the senses of the guitar maker

Clear air, bright with the light of morning. Our footsteps on the road, all around us, an immense silence. We come to the door of the guitar maker’s workshop, a small door at the head of three high steps. We’re peering into another world – a world of warm light, objects and movement.
We enter.
We are surrounded by a subtle but persistent smell of wood, almost a mixture of the voices of woodland and sky, vague yet rich reminiscences awakened from some unsuspected corner of the memory.
All around, on the walls, ready cut wood, metal templates, tools, traces of patient and minutely detailed labour.
Our gaze is still held captive by the wealth of details so that a deep sound, soft and dense, takes us by surprise – the sound of a guitar...