It's not enough to listen, or to think about it for a year, or read, or blog. I try to play it, too. I finally figured out how "Johnny B. Goode" really begins, and how to play the rhythm guitar on "Nadine," and I'm getting better at "Maybellene." And I think I've figured out his instructions for the "turnaround."
And every 10 or 15 years, like the clockwork of his convictions, I take out the acrylics and try to make a painting.
My skills have not improved much since kindergarten, but that doesn't stop me.
This one is still in the sketch phase-- but I got past the part that scared me-- getting CB himself roughed into the picture within the picture. I modeled it from memory of the shots on the back of "Back Home."
Two of my favorite things are Italian gothic and Chuck Berry. So I put them together. (It occurs to me now that I should have put a nighttime scene outside the door, and a sky full of stars. The triumvirate would be complete.) Someday soon I'll light some of the candles on that table.
Why, I don't know. Too much time on my hands, I guess.
P.S. Suddenly the mind is buzzing. Jacob Lawrence did a whole series telling the history of the Haitian General Toussaint l'Ouverture. I may do a series to the song cycle of Chuck Berry. Maybellene waiving from the top of the hill. Alone in a wee little room. Johnny by the railroad tracks. The long legs of Nadine disappearing into a yellow cab. Johnny's mother at the kitchen door. Tulane jumping the counter. The view from 903.