pages tagged CataloguePhilowixianhttp://www.columbia.edu/cu/philo/tags/Catalogue/Philowixianikiwiki2012-12-12T07:00:32ZSURGAM Spring 2011: "The new guitar"http://www.columbia.edu/cu/philo/phlog/2011/05/surgam-spring-2011-new-guitar/2011-05-29T01:17:00Z2011-05-29T01:17:00Z
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">Oops—took a bit of a sabbatical there. My </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">bel ami</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"> was in town (la!), so I suppose I was never really far from Phlogging, but maybe not in that way.</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">"But what's left from the semester?" you might wonder. Actually, nearly all of </span></span><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">Surgam</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">And so for the next few days I'll be regaling you with pieces and art from the Spring 2011 issue, just in case you missed picking up your very own beautiful copy. If you'd like one, however, never fear—we've more in the Halls, probably buried under Korean drums at this point but certainly accessible come September. Without further adieu, Jessica L. Johnson's brief and lovely piece "The new guitar."</span></span></span></span></i></b></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></span></span></i></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">—</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">The new guitar </span></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">Jessica L. Johnson </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span">CC'11</span></i></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">The neck knows my palm. To tune is to find the right vibrations between my thumb, thumb and forefinger, ear. The guitar string is a tightrope my fingers run across. I hang on its body. We’re hollow in the same places at times, though my insides aren’t so well carved out. I, too, am suspiciously held together by small metal screws; want only to be held at my side, wound and strummed, to sound. </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span></p> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div>