Think Differently. Solve the Impossible.

Prologue

It began when I saw an interview of Donovan in Guitar Magazine. Towards the end, Donovan said he would teach seven wannabes, a Master Class in guitar and song composition. The criteria for applying was you had to submit a video of yourself performing a self-penned song on an acoustic guitar. No gimmicks, computer magic or other people playing with you.

I thought what the heck. I have a better chance with this than with contests that are based on how many Facebook likes you get.

With the deadline approaching I desperately tried to figure out which song to play; which was the best to present to Donovan; which would sound best solo. I had thoughts about what I should wear, where I should film it and how.

One day I said to myself, “I’ve got to make this video!” and just did it. Three takes. I forced myself to smile and not be serious. It had a physiological effect. The more takes I did, the giddier I became. I tried to take down the wardrobe in the background of my furnished apartment in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It was nailed to the wall. I wonder if Donovan noticed and if so what he thought about the spiritual, native American garb.

I sent my video off to Donovan with a note and link.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

Dear Donovan,

I would like to submit for your Master Class on a Bahamian Island.
Or anywhere else for that matter :)
Here is a link to a video of me on acoustic guitar playing a self-penned song.
Thanks for listening.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

I was a bit surprised when I received an email from Angelique, Donovan’s assistant:

Dear Daniel,

Thank you for your video. 
You have been accepted as one of the 7 students. 
The location in the Bahamas is in an exclusive resort.

We will give you the name and link for the location of the luxury resort later. 
This is to protect privacy.

Angelique

〰〰〰〰〰〰

My first thought was, “ I knew it!” 

Then excitement turned to doubt. Why me? It seemed too good to be true. It did not help that Angelique, not Donovan, contacted me and that the exact location was a secret. It did not help that Angelique said, “There is no need for you to contact the resort as all questions you can ask of us.” It sounded fishy. My brother suggested it was a scam. My mom emailed me:

HOW CAN YOU BE SURE THIS IS THE REAL MAN? 

THIS GUY I MET YESTERDAY SAID... ANYONE COULD USE HIS EMAIL OR REGISTER AN EMAIL.

I needed to buy a ticket to the Bahamas. I did’t want to get there and find no one waiting. 
 

I wrote the Editor at Guitar :

In your May issue I read about the class Donovan is offering. The good news is I appear to have been chosen! The bad news is I am a bit stressed. I received an email signed by Angelique, not Donovan. I guess maybe I can't believe...not that my song isn't good but gosh...getting personal lessons from Donovan! 
I was wondering if you could contact Donovan and verify.
 

〰〰〰〰〰〰

Guitar magazine replied:

Hi Daniel…we'll see if we can forward  your note to Donovan's people. 

I'm pretty sure you're on safe ground with everything, 

I wouldn't worry too much.

Congratulations!
Managing Editor

〰〰〰〰〰〰
Then I received an email from Angelique:

Dear Daniel,

I forwarded your mail to Donovan and we are waiting for his reply.

Angelique 
for
Donovan

PS: Please can you send us your phone number?

〰〰〰〰〰〰
Then I received an email:

Dear Daniel

Of course you need the word from me its really Donovan.

I am the same person.

Give us your telephone number + a day next week and a time and the country you live in, I will call you personally.

Yours Musically,
Donovan
 〰〰〰〰〰〰

A few days later I was hanging out and saw my phone ring. It was the weekend and I almost didn’t answer. When I looked at the number displayed there were lots of digits, a country code and all that. So I answered it.

“Hello?” 

“Daniel?”

“Yes.” 

“This is Donovan.”

It turned out Donovan didn’t realize there might be scams about this kind of stuff. He said he would contact the other students as well and let them know.

Is there a plan?

I know most might be happy just to meet Donovan. I’m not a beach person so a week with nothing to do made me wonder, just what did Donovan have in mind? I mean, he’s a rock star. He could just show up. Maybe. For a day. Maybe two. When? Am I supposed to just sit on the beach and wait around till that happens? I felt bad for asking and hoped I was not offending him. I wrote back:

〰〰〰〰〰〰

Dear Angelique,

Is there a schedule you can send?

Your email said not to contact the hotel.

Thank you.

Daniel

〰〰〰〰〰〰

I received a reply:

Hi  Daniel,

Class will consist of 7 full days 10 AM to 5 PM.

The Donovan Finger Style that The Beatles studied with Donovan and resulted in much of the style of The White Album.

Also Donovan will teach the unique chord structures which he has used in hundreds of his own successful compositions.

How to create the circumstances for melodies to appear...

〰〰〰〰〰〰

Now we’re talking. It seemed like a lot of time to spend with Donovan. He is a generous man. I started making plans...

Making Plans

Donovan, I imagined had some mysterious way of getting to the Bahamas. A private jet? I asked Angelique for help about which airline I should take. She sent me a link to an airline that had gone out of business six years ago.

I found a real airline to book travel on but wasn’t sure what day to arrive. I wanted to get there early enough to have time to go find or buy another guitar should something happen to mine or if the airline lost my luggage. I thought about sending another guitar to the hotel, but that was still a secret. I booked travel with an extra day on each side of the class.

In December, I received a questionnaire from Donovan. He was really prepared and interested in teaching what he knows. It also included, esoteric questions like, “Where were you born?, what is your birth date and time of birth?” Donovan and Linda are really into numerology, tarot and those types of things. And of course, the email said to bring sun lotion, a hat and swimming trunks :)

〰〰〰〰〰〰

From Angelique:

Hi Daniel,

Donovan would like to know some more about your aspirations as a songwriter.

Are your parents musicians or artists?

Please confirm you will bring only an acoustic guitar not electric.

Please confirm you will bring a Guitar Capo, Donovan recommends the one called KYSER.

Donovan is looking forward to meeting you and helping  you with your songwriting and guitar style.

Angelique
For
Donovan
 〰〰〰〰〰〰

I replied and attached two more of my own songs.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

Angelique replied:

Hello Daniel,

Thanks for your informative replies, this is most helpful.

One last question:

Who are your favorite songwriters at least two .

You can include Donovan. List at least 2 other song makers and at least 2 of their songs that you have played and played and played .

Angelique

〰〰〰〰〰〰

I replied:

Dear Donovan,

I've probably come about this differently than most. I started on piano when I was young. ABBA was my favorite band. I couldn't write a song. Fast-forward many years. While playing bass in a rock band, my girlfriend decided she wanted to learn to play the guitar. She was trying to play some song she liked, Me and Bobby McGee I think. She took some lessons but was having trouble. Since I knew piano and played the bass, it wasn't that difficult for me to look at the guitar tabs and help her figure out the fingerings.

She soon gave it up but I became hooked [I still have her guitars :) In attempting to learn certain chord shapes I had seen in books or magazines, I'd make mistakes and accidentally be playing different rhythms that would lead me to develop songs of my own. My lack of understanding of how to play the instrument became a useful way to write songs.

Now a days the cover songs I play and play and play are ones that people request. So I figure it's best to learn them. Below is an abbreviated version of my set list. Atlantis is on there! Took me a long time to play it live because it took so long to memorize all the words! :)

OK. two other songwriters and songs:

Bob Dylan: Blowing in the Wind / Knock’n on Heaven's Door

The Beatles/John Lennon: She Loves You / Imagine

〰〰〰〰〰〰

The other student, Larry, chimed in....

“When traveling on commercial airlines it is advisable to de-tune [loosen the strings on] your guitar. If guitar strings get really cold they can shrink enough to damage the bridge or headstock and render the guitar useless. I thought I'd mention this because students may not have travelled with their guitar. Perhaps run this by Donovan to get his opinion whether to suggest this care measure to students.”
 

It did not make sense to me that air travel (altitude or cold temperatures) could break a guitar. Cold loosens strings. One time when I was traveling from New York to Santa Fe in the middle of the winter, the airline made me check my guitar. When I got off the plane I immediately opened the case. There was white frost on the body of my guitar. Was is broken? No. The cold caused the strings to loosen, detuning the guitar one-quarter of a note. Cold loosens strings; not tightens them.

Why did the other student and most airlines recommend loosening strings? Guitars get damaged when baggage handlers throw them. When there is tension on the strings a guitar is more likely to get damaged. But loosening the strings is bad for a guitar. A guitar is designed to have strings under tension. For you guitar players, the best thing to do is carry your guitar on. Don't check it.

We never got Donovan’s opinion. I didn’t see him re-tightening his strings when we got there.
 

Pre-assignment #1

Before the trip, Donovan (Angelique) emailed me an exercise. Donovan gave us a traditional, old folk song and asked us to write new lyrics to it.

I was extremely proud of the new lyrics I came up with. No pressure  right? Don’t let the master down. What was the rough draft about? I don’t remember. After a full day working on it I threw it away. Then I looked out the window and saw a bird.

I said to the bird, “O’ Birdie, will you give me a song to sing? I need a song to sing.” I had the chorus written in a few minutes (O’Birdie).

I was proud of the song and couldn’t wait to play it for Donovan. As a student you just wait and follow. When would he ask to hear it?

Flash-forward to when he got around to it in class... instead of asking to listen to what we had written, he gave us a new first verse and asked us to finish the song based on the verse he gave us. So I have two songs around this one.
 

Pre-assignment #2 -  The claw-hammer

Before we left for the trip, Donovan emailed us another bit of home work. This one was regarding the secret “claw-hammer”, a way of finger picking. Donovan sent us a picture of his hand on the guitar, “clawing” it, and asked us to practice the maneuver.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

Angelique emailed:

Donovan wishes you a Merry Solstice and a Happy New Year .

In preparation for the Master Class, it is important you can form a Bar Chord with your thumb over the neck as Donovan's teaching is all  around this Thumb Chording. See the 3 Chord Shapes attached below.

Donovan has decided to only give the class to two students. You Daniel and Larry. This means you will each have a full half day, one on one, with Master Donovan in the middle of the 7 days.

 〰〰〰〰〰〰

Cool. Less students. When we got there Donovan explained this was the first time he’s done something like this. He wasn’t sure if he could handle seven people.

I can’t show you the picture of the claw hammer or tell you how it’s done. Donovan asked that we only show it to those we want to pass it on to. As the story goes (Guitarist Acoustic, Summer 2015) Dirty Hugh taught Donovan the claw hammer and told him to pass it on. Which Donovan did - to the Beatles.

There’s a bit of mystery surrounding it. Some think the claw-hammer is based on Maybelle Carter’s picking techniques. Donovan mentioned the Carter family and Maybelle Carter, or Mother Maybelle; that in the twenties, she transposed a banjo-picking style to guitar so there would be a walking bass on the guitar. But Donovan’s “claw” is not Maybelle’s picking. And there’s a syncopation to it. He doesn’t play it straight.

In Donovan’s autobiography, Donovan said Dirty Hugh taught it to him over three days. And that he, Donovan, taught it to John Lennon over two. Who were we not to follow the same practice? This is the way it’s done: learn from the masters the way they were taught, the way they wish to teach you. Donovan would teach it to us over three days.

Back to the photo - I couldn’t do it. Panicking, I showed the picture to my mom.

“You can do that,” She said, “Look here, you can do that.”

I couldn’t. I practiced. I stretched my fingers.

“Look,” she said, “You’re trying too hard. His thumb is not that far over the neck. It’s barely touching the strings. You can do that!”

Ya, try playing a chord with the claw and moving it to a different chord quickly. Everything was sounding bad. My fingers kept touching strings they weren’t supposed to. The strings buzzed. I practiced every day. Fake it til you make it. Would the master notice?

Meanwhile, it was winter in Santa Fe and my pipes froze. Fortunately a few hours into the morning, water started to flow again. The pipes were not broken. The next night they froze again. A trip to the Bahamans was looking good.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

On January 3, Donovan texted:

Dear Students

Please text me hello.

011 353 xxx xxx xxx

Donovan

Happy New Year !  

 〰〰〰〰〰〰

Then Donovan sent another text:

 I look forward to passing you the knowledge

D

 〰〰〰〰〰〰

I was so excited!

One week before the trip, Donovan emailed:

THE WEEK AHEAD

Each day will have a Donovan led Chord Jam loosening up in the various Forms of Songs through the  Ages.

(Yes, we jammed with Donovan daily :)

Catch any ideas from this Jam and make a song before bed.

(That was hard to do. I know people who write a new song everyday. But are they ones you want Donovan to hear?)

Each Morning Student on waking to grab Notebook and Pen and walk the entire beach alone recalling any dream or thoughts along the way… before Breakfast. Can do this at Sunset also if want to.

(That was the fun part. I didn’t take a note book, just some scraps of paper and a pen in case an idea struck me. I often waded into the water.)

Have either of you meditated in any method?

This one is simple and uses breath

(Donovan prefers Transcendental Meditation.)

I  will ask you to play and sing your latest song during the week  so I see your basic playing style and key you like to sing in.

Please remind me to put timer on for each unit .

(Donovan was really prepared. I was ready as I’d ever be.)

Off I went.

DAY 1 - Getting There

         
Everyone’s thinking of the destination.
Tthe journey is the destination. 
Why would you keep waiting for it to get there? 
When you can enjoy the space to get there.
Because maybe once you get there it’s boring…
Maybe it’s the end.
Just getting there is the wonderful part.

- DONOVAN
 

Getting to the Island

My plane was scheduled to depart 10:15 PM, the late flight from San Diego to Miami. I would sleep on the plane and land in Miami at 6 AM. From Miami I would take another jet to Nassau, the main Bahaman island. From Nassau I would take a propeller airplane to a smaller island.

There are only two flights a day to the secret island. I was scheduled to take the evening one. I would like to take the morning flight but my flight from Miami would not land in time to get through customs. I wondered if I could make it if I didn’t check luggage and ran. What did I really need but a guitar and carry on? Shorts, sunglasses, guitar picks…

I landed in Nassau at 8:30 AM. I jumped off carrying my guitar and carry on and ran through the long maze of corridors to customs. The airport was nearly empty and there were few people in line. I thought I was going to make it when suddenly time seemed to have stopped for the customs officials. In the early morning hour they were not so quick to see me through. They didn’t think I would make it. I told them I came to play guitar with the great Donovan and needed to get on my way. They gave a look over before letting me go.

Again I ran, getting lost as I tried to find the commuter terminal. I had to go outside then come back into another building and could not figure out which way to go.

I eventually found my gate. People were sitting around, quiet and waiting. I thought I had missed my flight. Eventually I realized I was early and took a seat. I was digging through my stuff when I looked over and saw him. Donovan. He was on the same flight!

When we landed on the secret island, we got off toting only our carry-ons. We had to check the guitars. They were in the back of the plane.

Turbo-prop planes are a bit dangerous. They put orange cones out in the front of the engine propellers and the course you’re supposed to walk to get off the runway. The cones are to make sure you don’t veer off and get your head whacked off by a propeller. Just a few orange cones. Got to pay attention and not look at the scenery.

We walked off the tarmac and waited behind a chain link fence next to the runway. The airplane was about 100 yards away. I watched them unloading the luggage, like a hawk, for our guitars. The guitars were not on the luggage cart when the driver started towards us.

The plane was getting ready to take off. I yelled to the driver that we needed our guitars. When he didn’t respond I walked out on the tarmac and waved my hands. That got his attention. The driver yelled to get back behind the fence. Fortunately, the driver understood and drove back to the plane to get our guitars.

Relieved to have our guitars, we left the airport and headed off in separate cars to the hotel. Larry, the other student, his wife and I in one car; Donovan and Linda in another. Donovan was staying at a house down the beach from the hotel. The plan was for us to meet in the morning, down the beach from the hotel where the hotel would set up for us, three chairs under a cabana by the sea.

We were in good hands at the hotel. My room had a private patio that was one hundred steps from the beach. Simple, cozy and efficient. I’m not a big swimmer but I figured I might as well go in. I would be too busy later. The shower was outside. It was January!

DAY 2 - First Day of Class

I don’t know what they are. 
Just lines.
Some came to me yesterday

- DONOVAN

The hotel had a nice buffet breakfast. You could eat inside but I preferred the the table outside, closest to the water. Not many people were staying at the hotel as it was off-season. The sky and ocean were clear and perfect blue. The sand was clean, without foot prints.

Each day Donovan had us starting at ten AM. Donovan and the Bohemians share the same time zone as Santa Fe, New Mexico -  Manana doesn’t mean tomorrow. This allowed time for breakfast and practice before going to class. I was always early.

What do you wear to a guitar lesson with Donovan? We were on the beach in the Bahamas. Shorts seemed appropriate. Me, I can’t do Rock n’ Roll unless I’m wearing jeans. What does Jimmy Buffet wear? I wore jeans the first day. Later I wore shorts. Donovan usually wore long, flowy pants and a blue shirt that matched his eyes.

The first thing we did each morning was to meditate. Nothing difficult or contrived. This reminded me of a Kenny Loggins book, ‘Lessons Learned on the Path of Love’. During a marriage crisis Loggins went off to Hawaii to ponder things. He tried to give readers wisdom about the situation, as if everyone can go off on an island vacation to ponder what life throws at them. Trust me, I felt blessed and did not take anything for granted. I saw every grain of sand on the beach, every flower on every bush and I do not think you have to go to the Bahamas to write songs. Like I said in my introductory letter to Donovan - I’d go anywhere to take lessons from him.

Back to the meditation…

Donovan sat, hands gently folded in the center of his lap. I followed.

Donovan set the timer for ten minutes. We sat there, eyes closed. No mantra. Just breathing.

I had brought Donovan a small gift, what is called a spider capo. It’s a gadget you clamp over the strings of your guitar to make them sound different; a type of capo that allows you to capo, clamp each string separately. I figured with all ways Donovan has of making songs, he would be into the creative potential. I did not get exactly how to use it. I’m not sure he got it either. You needed an instruction manual to know what tuning you were in. Perhaps the idea is to not know. The other student, Larry, a luthier (he builds guitars) understood it. We fiddled a bit with it before giving up and moving on to Donovan’s first lesson.

The Claw Hammer

Our first lesson was around the claw hammer, the assignment Donovan gave us to do before class. By now I had practiced enough to give it a good hearted attempt. But first Donovan told a story:

“The story of the Claw Hammer is that it was taken from a banjo style by Maybelle Carter in the 1920’s, 25-26,” Donovan began. “Maybelle Carter was part of the family of what you would call the royal family of folk music. They were poor. I guess from Appalachia with roots in Scotland. It was kind of a dynasty down the line with June Carter who married John Cash.

“When you go back to the 1928 recordings made by the Carters and Jimmy Rodgers and a bunch of other fiddle players, they were called string bands. Maybelle was the mother of the kids.  And they’d all play. What she realized they didn’t have a bass. Nobody could afford any instruments and they started making instruments in Appalachia you know,” Donovan laughed. “Out of cigar boxes. Out of fruit boxes. Anything they could find. ‘Cause they just couldn’t afford real guitars. Some of them had real guitars. Maybelle Carter had one.

“She saw what the banjo pickers were doing,” Donovan said as he started picking and playing his guitar.  “This is where a banjo started. It’s called frailing.”

“Now the banjo was an African, the black boys played them. So there’d be a lot of syncopation. So when she was trying to play it on the guitar, it didn’t quite work out. But what they wanted was this...” Donovan said, humming and strumming. “This kind of bass thing that was going. See that?”

“So the pattern was, the Africans who were playing the banjo, had the tempos going. Fiddle players from Scotland and Ireland, they knew about that. ‘Cause the big link between Scotland and North Africa...And Ireland. Because the water ways. They were trading for three thousand years out of the Mediterranean up to the Ireland and Scotland.”

“And in Ireland they have a thing called the bodhrán, the round drum”, Donovan said as he started tapping on his guitar like a drum. “And they got the same drum in Arabia as well, so there’s a mix.”

“So there was that,” Donovan said as he played a riff on his guitar. “And she transposed the guitar picking from a banjo to a guitar. She thought, if we could get a pattern going...,” Donovan said as he started playing something.

“This might be her original song but it might be an old folk song.” Donovan started singing, quite beautifully and in Donovan character, merging pieces of lyrics from the original folk tune, I'll Twine 'Mid the Ringlets, with lyrics from the Carter Family's rendition of it, Wildwood Flower:

 “I will twine with my mingles of my raven black hair.

O with the roses so red and the lilies so fair.

O the myrtle so bright with it’s bright emerald hue.

The pale the leader with eyes of bright blue.”

Then, playing the same chords, Donovan switched to singing the lyrics for, Won’t You Take My Sunshine Away, a song that uses the same chords and melody as the traditional song:

“La la la la ....you make me happy when skies are gray. Won’t you take my sunshine away.”

Donovan, laughing, stopped playing.

“So the basic one that she seemed to have picked up was this one,”  Donovan said as he played something on his guitar again. “They say she invented this one. Because they used to play at dances as well. The banjo was always preferred. Because it was so fuck’n loud. Where as guitars...[Acoustic guitars were too quiet for live music until the electric guitar was invented.] And then somebody invented that guitar with the pan in it. [The resonator]. The metal pan.”

Donovan went back to playing again, this time simpler and slower…

“There’s no doubt she developed it much faster than I’m teaching it,” he said if pondering something mysterious, “because she was just listening to the banjo on an E minor.”

Donovan started playing something else.

“There’s a famous tune in the Appalachians called the The Cuckoo!” Donovan yelled out above the music from his guitar. “Now I play it with a pick,” he said as he went into playing and singing something faster, his recorded version of, The Cuckoo:

 “Well, the cuckoo she's a pretty bird and she warble as she fly

And she never warble cuckoo till the fourth day of July

Well, I’ve gambled in London and I’ve gambled in Spain

And I bet you, my silver saddle, that I’ll beat your next game.”

-from Cuckoo
By Donovan

Ending with a laugh, Donovan said, “All that stuff, mountain music they call it. That all comes from this. And when you take it way back, it’s that Irish dance where they had shoes with metal underneath. Have you seen an Irishmen dance? Well there were two or three million Irish arrived in America. And they used to do this clicky click thing ya know. And the boys would try to out do the other boys you know, ‘I can do it better than you can.’

“And because they were so dirt poor, the Irish and the Scotts, the Irish were maybe one notch about the slave communities, the blacks communities, and they were all freed by now, the slave communities, black communities. They all congregated in New Orleans. They all ran for the factory towns. The Southerners ran for New Orleans. And then they took the boats up to St. Louie, Chicago. That’s how that electric blues happened. But the others trailed down into the Delta, New Orleans. In both places, they ran into the Irish!

“So the poor boy Irish and the poor boy black boys hung the corn out to make a buck. They’d start dancing. The black boys would sing and do this other thing, the soft shoe thing with sand, do you remember that thing? The boys started clicking their heals together. The black boys picked up on that and they started having battles. You know...for money...pride or prestige. It became tap dancing. So all these that go...”

We were interrupted by Donovan’s timer going off.

Donovan finished the story:

“I think that’s not only Irish. I think people have been playing with those, ‘I can dance better than you,’ rhythms for a long while.” Donovan made some noises emulating the rhythm.

“And then that became Rockabilly through the blue grass,” Donovan said, making noises to emulate the sound. “And then they started playing it on the electric guitar,” Donovan said as he made electric guitar sounds with his voice. “And now we’re in Memphis and we’ve got Elvis and we’ve got Buddy Holly. And we got Buddy Knocks and then you’ve got how Rock and Roll sort of forms and all that.”

“But roots is what we’re talking about. Because you can’t write a song unless you’ve got chords. And you can’t write an interesting one unless you’ve got interesting chords. And they’re all just chords. But you know that...” Donovan ended softly as he started to slowly pick with the claw pattern again, which was what he was showing us to begin with.

“Look at this. Remember that chord?” He said excited. “The strange chord. That can be used in picking wonderfully. Your three finger picking can develop into a two finger. And your fingers will tell you. And melodies. The beauty of the picking is melody,” He said before singing, “La la la la la”.

“Sometimes the fingers tell me what the melodies should be. Of course my Jennifer, all the melody is picked by the strings.” Donovan started to play and sing his song, Jennifer.

“See it’s a variation of picking the melody then picking the pattern.  I’m doing a two finger pattern. And your fingers will tell you. This Claw Hammer is wonderful. Goes many places. You have to live with it. You’ve got the pattern. You’ve got it in your head. It’s just the fingers that don’t have it.”

--------------

Each day from 12:30 to 2 PM was down for lunch and a swim. But who had time to swim? Donovan usually gave an assignment before lunch. I usually ordered lunch and went to my room to practice, then came back to the dining room to eat when it was served. The other student, Larry, was usually already in the dining room, eating with his wife. I don’t see how he had time to practice. He probably didn’t need it as much as I.

Tea break was cool. Most of that time I just wandered over to the edge of the water. Sometimes I went in up to my knees. I enjoyed the tea, beach breaks.

------------------------

Let’s just do this for a little bit. 
You’ll get your fingers used to playing that chord. 
If I give you too many parts at once it kind of boggles the mind.

-  DONOVAN
 

DAY 3 - Second Day of Class

It’s what’s left out, not what’s in.
The silence is sometimes loude
Than the words or what we hear.

 -  DONOVAN
 

Donovan asked us to walk the beach each morning, from one end to the other, writing down your thoughts. You could only walk the beach in each direction so far until the soft sand turned to sharp, jagged rock as the bay ended and met the island shore line. Half way down the beach there is a house where a dog greeted me each morning. We would walk the rest of the way together to the other end of the beach. He would stop on the way back where I picked him up.

Once in awhile a while a boat would throw anchor in the bay and visitors would come a shore. They didn’t stay in the hotel. They came in, had dinner and drinks, then headed back out to sleep on their boats. Some stayed a few days; some were gone in the morning.

There was a ton of gear on the beach at the hotel for guests to use. I often schemed of paddling a kayak out to one of several rock formations standing tall out in the ocean. I’m sure they were further out than they looked. Fortunately for my safety, I was usually too busy or lazy to take one out.

Aside from morning meditations, most of the “lessons” were all business. Each morning Donovan brought a new version of a syllabus. He would set the timer for each segment of it. He was serious about his craft but always kind and patient to his students.

I was always multi-tasking: enjoying listening to him play, watching his fingers, listening to what he was teaching, writing things down. He explained things as he played them. Where it got hard to keep up, was when I tried to take notes at the same time playing what he was showing us. It was a lot of going back and forth from pen in hand to pick in fingers. I’m self-taught so I finger some basic chords a different way. I had to work over time to keep up with learning the new ones he taught while re-learning basic ones with the fingerings that allowed me to play things the way he did.

Two Chord Songs

“It’s always a good lesson to try just writing [a song] with two chords,” Donovan said. “It’s so simple really you can’t go wrong,” he said as he hummed and strummed a two chord song on his guitar.

“Couldn’t get any simpler for putting words together,” he said as he sang, “La la da da da,” to the chords he was playing.

“Of course so many songs were written like this. You know, everybody’s got a song from two chords,” Donovan said. “What was that Neil Young one? He did on it on piano. It was a different tempo...

‘I dreamed I saw the knights in armor, saying something about the Queen’...and he descended as well”.

Donovan hummed the rest of the song then he stopped playing.

He continued with the lesson. “So you can vary the tempos. And there’s tons of songs you can write. They tend to be quite...what’s the word...epic. Large, deep stories. All these chords give you a wonderful, in painting, we call it palette. It gives you a great wide open palette. It kind of feels like the open plains or the wide open desert of Santa Fe. The mountain ranges. You can see forever with these chords. And it allows a lot of harmony, you know singing along.”

-------------------------------

Later we got around to the blues.

“It was called Angie,” Donovan began. “It must have been one of his girlfriends. It’s the way of the blues...and this is the key, this D9 is a big key chord. Without it, a lot of the great blues don’t make any sense. You know, Robert Johnson, Snooks Eaglin, any of the guys you think, even John Lee Hooker, the Blues guys seemed to use this chord.

“And when you use it, you know you’re in the right space. ‘Cause a D is one thing,” Donovan said strumming it, “but a D7 is another....ah, that’s the one.”

As Donovan was playing the Blues he kept explaining. “And is this the county blues or what? Cause Blind Larry David, blind, wrote a famous song, Cocaine. It’s a different Cocaine that Clapton recorded, because that’s the J. J. Cale, ‘She don’t like cocaine. da da da da’. What ever that is.”

“But this cocaine...you had to be quite smart to do this one. This is cocaine blues.” Donovan started playing it. “The trick with this one is this top string. It’s the walking bass and picking the melody.

“So if you could do the Cocaine Blues, you were in the secret club.” Then he added with a bit of nolstagic humor, “We didn’t have cocaine when I was young.”

Then as Donovan played and plucked on his guitar he started singing. “Yonder come my baby all dressed in white. Baby won’t you stay all night. Cocaine. All around my brain.”

“And this is the famous old Martyn”, he said, lowering his voice, “Hey baby won’t you come here quick, old cocaine is make’n me sick, cocaine all around my brain.”

Song Birds and Angel Fish

Before Lunch Donovan told another story:

“I was at the factory. I was sixteen. I couldn’t get into art school right away,” Donovan said, “And I never went to art school, just close to it. I didn’t need to. I could draw. I could pretty much do anything in the world of art. I wanted to get into art school. But I couldn’t get in.

“I took some jobs in the summer. In the factory. All these rough boys had an air gun. You know what an air gun is. And in the break, at the lunch time, they said they had this great game where they go out in the back of the factory. There were all these birds sitting on the fence and they would shoot them. I was so stupid and got way laid by them. And only once.

“One of the guys said, ‘Why don’t you have a go.’

“And I went, ‘Ok.’

I caught one right away.

“And they all looked and me and said, ‘Shit, you’re pretty good!’

“I went up and saw this bird and it was a song bird!” Donovan said with regret and sadness in his voice. “I said, ‘Shit, what have I done!’

“I’m not a hunter,” Donovan said firmly.

“And one day I went out to the island,” Donovan said as he looked out towards the ocean. “That first one. No, I think the second one. With my stepson Julian, Linda’s boy. Julian was fourteen and he was here and he was a young man. He was wanting to go out and spear the barracudas and see the sharks...So once again I was in the...” Donovan sighed, “Here I am.”

“Julian said, ‘Look, I found some spear guns!’

“And we took the boat out there. And we got some masks on.

“He said, ‘I’ll get us a lobster, I’ll get us a grouper!’ You know, he was really a fourteen year old.

“And I went down and he said, ‘You have to try it!’

“I went down and while we were down there,” Donovan said before he made the sound of fish swimming, “Bloo, bloo bloo...”

“He said, ‘That one there!’” Donovan made a spear sound.

“I caught this fish,” Donovan said. “And when I took it up on the boat, it wasn’t a grouper...,” Donovan said distraught, “It was like the song bird...It was an angel fish! And it was so beautiful and little and full of colors,” He said regretfully, “And I fuck’n killed it!”

Back to a normal, matter of fact voice, Donovan continued, “And Julian said, ‘We can’t eat that. It’s too small!”

“I said, ‘Ya, I know!’

“So it just reminded me...,” Donovan said as he drifted off thinking, “Looking out there...why I never went hunting again...for fish.”

“But you know, if somebody else kills it, I still eat a fish now and then.” He paused. “And sometimes a chicken... But I’m mostly a vegetarian. Mostly.

“But if a fish is fresh and it’s been caught in Ireland or someplace like this, I don’t mind so much. But if it’s a for the factory ship, thousands of fish are being killed...I don’t like that so much.”

I fiddled with my guitar, absent mindedly.

“My goodness! You’ve got the claw-hammer.” Donovan said. “That’s great!”
 

Sunshine Work’n Man

Next up in class is a latin groove thing, a technique I would later use to compose, Work’n Man. I never could play exactly what Donovan showed me, how he played it. Who can? He’s not just a poet and good song writer. His guitar playing, rhythms, the way he plays is tight. I did my best and ultimately came away playing things my own way. Which I think was his intention.

After showing us a bit of different things, Donovan said, “The one I think you guys liked,” as he played the rhythm on his guitar, “was this thing. You finally got the way to...[play it with style],” he said as he played it with syncopation.

“I don’t mind it down or up”, Donovan continued, referring to the way he picked and strummed up or down in rhythm. “It’s the same thing for me, up or down. So go real slow now.”

We began to practice it together.

“1..2..3..4...,” Donovan said.

“And you hear...I’m pushing the bass. It’s a push...not...,” Donovan said as he played the something it’s not. “They call it pushing the note just before. This is the real down. But pushing it right before it like..,” Donovan said as he played it. “Do you know what I mean?” He said, repeating it on his guitar.

We all played and kept repeating it over and over like Donovan liked us to do. Until you forget it the next day, like when you were in school and had to memorize stuff.

“Nice”. Donovan said. “You’ve got it!”

Still, we kept playing it over and over, getting louder as we got comfortable playing the groove together.

“Stop!” Donovan shouted out. “Make it a 7th! Ya man! You boys play!” Larry and I continued to play it as Donovan soloed over our playing.

When we stopped Donovan continued with his instruction. “So it’s the Latin thing. Use the pick.”

And then suddenly, like he often did during class, one moment he was showing us a groove that you wondered how you might make into a hit song, and the next he was playing one of his songs that used the groove. This time it was, Sunshine Superman.

“Everybody’s hustling. Just to have a little scene...And I say we’ll be cool, you know what I mean,” Donovan sang.

He stopped.

“So you know, all chords respond to that latin groove.

“But they tend to want to be...” His voice trailed off.

“The D [chord] is difficult. It’s too pure. But the D7...,” Donovan strummed the chord again for Sunshine Superman.

“The Latin groove and the 7th chords, you can do a lot of things with the flat pick. See I’m not even playing a chord, just..,” he said as he muted the strings while strumming the chords for Sunshine.

“Bit’s like that.”

--------------------

Willow (she's tall and bendy) is friend of mine. Just a friend now, if you know what I mean. She sang on a few songs on my first album.

It was Willow who told me about Donovan. She would often paint to his music. Willow told me to tell Donovan, “It's ridiculous he was only inducted into the hall of rock and roll fame a few years ago”.

I told Willow could she come on this trip if she wanted to. Donovan said I could bring someone: a friend, partner, whom ever.

Willow did not come. Her boy friend probably didn’t allow it. After all, there was only one bed in my room.

Willow would however, like me to show one of her paintings to Donovan, a painting called, Atlantean Seafoam.

She emailed me about her past life in Atlantis:

.....AND DONT FORGET TO TELL HIM I CARRIED A STAFF AND WAS ABLE TO SHOOT LIGHTNING OUT OF IT :) IM SERIOUS!  THANKS!

DAY 4 - We are Learning

Who’s watching the time,
The one that can just sit and wait.
Time doesn’t have to be as long or short as you think it should be.
When is now?
The only time you know
Is when you are dead.

 -  DONOVAN

One day while walking the beach to class I found a giant sand dollar. Donovan was on his way to class too, walking down the beach behind me. He came over and asked if it was broken or whole. It made no difference, I was like a kid in a candy store. I had never found a sand dollar on a beach before. It was whole and complete and of an interesting color. I packed it away safely and walked to the cabana where we had our lessons.

As part of class, Larry and I each got a half day, one on one, with Donovan. We could do anything we wanted: go over guitar patterns Donovan showed us, play him songs we are working on, anything legal, which is pretty much anything on a small Bahamian island.

I was a bit concerned about my personal time with Donovan coming at the beginning of the week. I would have preferred it at the end. Larry asked me if he could go second, meaning I go first, to which I didn’t object. Now I wished I could buy some time - to practice, to have more songs ready.

The morning’s class...on the beach under the cabana...

“Do you need any top offs on the descents?” Donovan asked, referring to what he showed us yesterday. “I think you would enjoy this,” he suggested as he played something. “When you take it back, I’d like you to send me one [a song]. And see what you can come with up with an epic,” Donovan said with a laugh, “an epic song. Will you remember that?”

I laughed as I replied, “I wrote it down.”

Donovan: “I’m borrowing your pick. Is that OK?”

Me: “Of course”. As if I’d say no.

Donovan played his guitar, fiddling with the some more patterns. “It could go there...Or you could take it...This seems nicer to me.”

Larry and I joined in. For a little while we kept repeating the same pattern, over and over. No words were spoken except for Donovan occasionally shouting out chord changes.

“Do you like this one or the other one?” Donovan said referring to patterns he was showing us.

“I like this one,” I replied, regarding what we were playing.

“I like this one my self too,” Donovan said. “You know why?” he asked as he played the other pattern. "Up here, it’s stranger,” Donovan said, “It’s very weird. It’s another Galaxy...This galaxy I quite like.”

Donovan hummed for a moment than said, “So I’d be temped to say you should [try writing a song with the other pattern].”

And when Donovan was through he accidentally dropped my guitar pick.

I let Larry have it.

On Dear Prudence

We took a break. As typical, Donovan went into a bit of story telling. This one about how John Lennon used some of what Donovan taught him in India to write Dear Prudence.

“He liked the whole idea of it being electric as well,” Donovan said.

Donovan started singing, “One thing you can’t hide. When your cripple inside.”

He stopped singing.

“Get it?” he asked referring to the chords and fingerpicking.

“But when he was playing...” Donovan said as he started to play the chords for Dear Prudence, “...He was still using three fingers. I didn’t teach him that, he realized it. It starts with that. But he realized he had to let the fingers find their way. So he was using the bass for...” Donovan started singing and playing Dear Prudence.

“See, there’s a slight variation. And then he...,” Donovan said as he played what John did, “He used another chord. At, ‘Come out’. We can find it on the internet, what he did,” Donovan said with a laugh.

Waiting For You

Next up was my turn to play the guys what I had been working on. That would be my first presentation of, Waiting for You. I played it once through for Donovan and Larry.

“Don’t be shy,” Donovan said, referring to the nervous way I was singing. “You can repeat the same verse. You don’t have to...‘Oh here comes another verse,’” Donovan said referring to his method of repeating the first verse till you get it right.

“Just check verse one, two or three times in a row,” Donovan said. “That’s the only way you can tell if it’s working,” he said laughing a bit. “Repeat the first verse”.

I sang it again. As I sang it, Donovan, in a Yoda like voice said, “Searching for a melody he is this one...”

The next verse didn’t sound right so I stopped. Quite honestly, listening to the playback, it could have worked. I am glad I changed it. But there’s another melody in that first draft, one I’ll use in another song.

“Now, would you say the song begins there?” Donovan asked me as he played something on his guitar. “Do you begin on that chord?”

“Yes,” I replied, “That’s it.”

“Can you give me the melody, just the first line?” Donovan asked, suggesting I sing it acappella.

For some songwriters writing the lyrics are the hardest part, for some the melody. Except for Paul McCartney. I think the saying goes something like, “If he fell and bumped his head he’d get up an have another melody”. James Taylor, when talking about his recent album, said he had loads of ideas on the guitar but that lyrics and the melody still had yet to come. His strategy was to go into the studio and record the music while he worked on the words.

I have lyrics. I have words and chords. I only need to sing them.

There is a lot of guitar picking going on as I try to peck the melody out on the guitar as if it were a piano.

“You don’t have to play it,” Donovan said. “Just sing it and I’ll catch it.”

I began singing the first verse again, “When I first met you...”

“Ok, stop.” Donovan said.

He sang it back to me, “When I first met you...”

“Ok, get that one Larry,” Donovan said to Larry, asking him to pluck the melody on his guitar.

Then, as he picked the strings on his guitar, Donovan said, “Was that it? Does that sound like it? I’m going to repeat it again. I’m just getting the phrasing. The phrasing is very important,” he said as he picked the melody on the strings while singing it.

I continued, “When I first met you. When I first saw you...”

We kept repeating and singing the same first two lines. Because although you might have a good melody, the chords may not go with it. Or maybe you find chords that almost work, but you’ve got to change what you are singing a bit. And if you’ve got a great melody you do not want to change it.

“The notes you are playing work with this chord,” Donovan said, playing a different chord. “You can’t sing it with that chord. I think you are singing this...”

“No, that won’t work,” I said. “That’s not the melody I want to sing.”

Saved by the timer going off.

Then again…

“What’s the last note?” Donovan asked.

I sang it again, just the ending.

“It’s very nice,” Donovan said, “I like it. But what we’re trying to do is find what chords should be played.”

I think they can feel my frustration. Donovan is kind and patient, but I’m still shy. I’m like a deer in the headlights trying to work my song out on the spot.

Donovan spoke up. “Right. We shouldn’t really push too hard. He needs more time.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll work on it. Give me time!” I said to myself.

“It’s very nice what I heard you singing”, Donovan said. “You just have to make the guitar do it.” He hummed it. “I quite like that. It’s very nice. I think we’re going to leave you with this one.”

Then he give me a greatest compliment ever. “The words are very cooool... I love those words.”

Donovan continued with class. “Because we’re on the D tuning, I might just have to send you off with what I did in the tunings.”

For those of you non-guitar players, “D” tuning does not refer to Donovan tuning. It is a way you tune all the strings so if you play all the strings at once without any fingering, you get a D chord. It’s easier than playing a normal chord which requires fingering. It allows slide guitar players to slide on the strings using a bottle they put on their finger. One can change chords simply by moving one finger. It’s what Dolly Parton used when she didn’t want to cut her nails to make regular chords. And when you’re smart like Donovan, when you add in some finger picking, you really get going.

Back to Donovan…

“This is my second single. And it went to number three. People call it a country song but it ain’t really country,” Donovan said light hearted, tapping twice on the body of his guitar. “I call ‘em celtic cowboy.”

Donovan started picking and strumming the introduction. He was going to play, Colours.

“Yellow is the color of my true love’s hair

in the mornin’’

in the mornin’ when we rise

That’s the time

That’s the time

I love the best.”

-From Colours
  By Donovan
 

When he finished playing, Donovan stopped with a quiet applause from me.

“So that was me doing what would be picking the melody out,” he said as he kept fiddling on his guitar. “And then of course...,” Donovan said as he strummed the chord that makes the song so recognizable.

“When people were trying to learn to play Colours it was driving them crazy. They could never play it. And then finally, people would meet me and say, ‘You’ve got to tell me, I’m trying to do it but it doesn’t work,” Donovan said in a pleading voice.

“And I said, it doesn’t work because you’ve got to be in a tuning. And this one,” Donovan said, as he started strumming the clear and distinctive chords for Mellow Yellow. [For those of you guitar players out there, the secret to playing these Donovan hits is that they are both are in open D tuning].

Donovan began to play and sing, “I’m just mad about Saffron. Saffron’s mad about me. I’m just mad about Saffron. She’s just mad about me. They call me Mellow Yellow.”

At the end Donovan made horn sounds, “Ba ba ba  da da  da da”.

Then he stopped playing.

“So you can vamp with it as well,” Donovan said.

Remembering something as he strummed the same chords yet a different way he said, “Oh, this little thing here, I showed you that, didn’t I? And when you’re on the bars,” Donovan said, playing bar chords, “It works there as well.” He played something that sounded like the Rolling Stones, Brown Sugar.

“And since the Rolling Stones began all those years ago, playing with tunings,” Donovan said. “Brain Jones I suppose started them all off,” he said in a nostalgic way. “People can’t really sound like the Stones unless they get into tunings.” Donovan played something that sounded like Start Me Up.

“And when it’s electric, it Huuuge!”, he said with a smile.

“There are tunings that are not all the way D. You come up with this one now,” Donovan said as he tuned just one of the strings on his guitar a bit different. By ear. No electric tuner. He’s got perfect pitch.

“I’m going to show you something up in tuning,” Donovan said. “This is the half-D. This one is real fun.”

He started strumming, then picking with a walking bass line.

“You get riffs going!” Donovan said as he started singing Codine, an original of his on a 1964 demo tape which was finally released in 1992 on the album, Troubadour – The Definitive Collection 1964-1976.

“Got an achin’ in my belly.
Got a shakin’ in my head.
Feel like I’m dyin’ and I wish I were dead
If I lived till tomorrow gonna be a long time.
Well I’ll reel and I’ll fall and rise on codine.
An’ it’s real, an’ it’s real, one more time.”

From Codine
By Donovan
 

“So what you do is you don’t put [tune] everything down to D [tuning],” Donovan said has he kept playing, “Just the top and the bottom [strings]...And I got Cosmic Wheels [out of that]:

“God is playing marbles with his planets and his stars. 
Creating havoc through my life with his influence on Mars. 
And I'm stumbling down this highway on my boots of steel. 
Boot’s of steel. Celestial wheels. Cosmic wheels.”

From Cosmic Wheel
By Donovan
 

Donovan, still playing his guitar, yelled out, “This is big stuff. It’s good!”

Then Donovan went into something else, still strumming.

“I’ve got the pirate song,” he said referring to Henry Martin, another Donovan original.

“There were three brothers in merry Scotland.
In merry Scotland there were three.
They did cast lots which of them should go.
Should go should go should go aye.
And to turn pirate along the salt sea.”

From Henry Martin
By Donovan

Donovan stopped playing. “For adventure songs, that’s great.” Donovan said as a completion to his demonstration.

“Alright boys. That’s it.

“Early start tomorrow.”

    ------------------------------------

I emailed Willow:

He's a great poet and songwriter too. Obviously he has hits but to see him in action is the real deal. He got invited to a private party on the island and he's taking us with him. They said to bring the guitars of course. imagine...jamming at a party with Donovan. So far i've just been working my ass off. My song is called "Waiting for You". I told you we would write a song about you...like when is she coming. 

My email might sound fine but I sat in my cabana and cried. I was up til one AM, trying to peck at my guitar and not be heard in the room next door. Eventually I gave up. I thought I had a melody, a new song, but I didn’t think it was good enough. I had homework, new guitar techniques to learn, and I had to practice. Double time, because the other student is a great guitar player.  All I’ve got are my songs. And I was not writing as many of them as I thought I should. Actually I hadn’t finished any on the island thus far. They were all bits and pieces.

I imagine a man like Donovan can write a song out of nowhere and finish it in an hour. As he probably did while hanging out with John Lennon and Jimi Hendrix. I was not as fast at least not at the moment.  I didn’t bring my note book with ideas for lyrics. I tried to save weight and pack light. I figured I’d start new with what I came up with during the trip. I was not going to be able to show the master any new works. Not tomorrow. I might as well just go to sleep.

DAY 5 - Private Lessons

I guess the words are voicing. When you’re voicing chords, and voicing harmonies and things, there’s something distinctive. It’s the same chords. But there’s something distinctive about certain songwriters’ music behind them. And while it’s not often we realize it, it’s probably the unconventional combinations of chords that gave the songwriter this, ‘What’s going on there?’ It helps make things interesting.

 -  DONOVAN

Day four was my half day, alone with him. It came too soon.

When it came time to meet Donovan it started to rain; a hard, tropical, windy rain. I was supposed to walk down the beach to the cabana which was not far. I was waiting until the last minute for a break in the storm. I was going to be late.

I was still practicing in my room when the maid knocked on the door and announced that Donovan would meet me in the lounge of the hotel because he couldn't get to our meeting location either. I grabbed my guitar and rushed through the rain from my room to the hotel lobby.

For my half day with Donovan I decided on recording a demo of my song, Waiting For You. Donovan and I instantly had the same idea: why go to the cabana when we could do it there, in the hotel lobby.

We sat down on the couches in the lounge and made ourselves at home. Two couches and a table in between us on which I placed two pocket recorders and my draft of the lyrics.

Speaking into one of my recorders, Donovan said, “You’ve got to hear the vocal. This is a test. Ok. 1, 2, 3, 4...”

Donovan started singing a few phrases from the chorus.

He stopped.

“Test it,” he said, “to see if we’ve got it on the recorder.”

I played it back.

“Yep, it’s good,” I said.

“You have vocal? You have guitar?” Donovan asked. “Let me hear it. Play it.”

I rewound the recorder and hit play.

“It should be playing,” I said.

“I can’t hear a thing,” Donovan said.

I fiddled with the recorder.

“Can you hear it now?” I asked.

“Maybe that one would be better?” Donovan suggested, pointing to the smaller, pocket sized recorder. “Forget the big one,” he said, “Let’s do the little one.”

I should have brought more batteries. That’s the trouble with the big recorder. I have already changed the batteries twice. The hotel doesn’t sell batteries. Lucky for me I brought two recorders. The smaller one still had power.

“But the little one doesn’t have an end,” Donovan said concerned, referring to the external microphone sticking out of the bigger recorder. Then he noticed the smaller recorder had an external microphone.

“Oh, it does. Let’s do it on here,” Donovan said feeling better about the smaller one, “because I think,” referring to the bigger recorder, “this is too complex.”

I played the song. And recorded it using the big one.

Then Donovan played it. Donovan’s was almost to the end when he stopped singing, kept strumming and yelled out, “It’s like the Beatles! The Beatles did these tempos,” he said as he continued to play, “That were like...,” strumming his guitar, “I don’t know sort of... she was just seventeen.

Donovan stopped playing. “You know all that rock stuff.”

“So this tempo is really cool,” Donovan said. “And I think it works with your song. Wanna try that?” Donovan asked. “I want you to go around ten times doing that. So it becomes like a drug for you.”

I started playing and singing. Donovan clapped to keep tempo.

“Repeat. Keep repeating it. Ten times. Again,” Donovan instructed, clapping his hands softly. “Repeat is everything,” he said, encouraging me while tapping on something to keep tempo.

“Again.”

I played it again.

We stopped and paused.

“So you see where we’re going with this?”, Donovan asked. “I don’t know what the lyrics are. So bring them out.”

I got the lyrics out from my note book.

I started playing again.

“Strum it big!” Donovan said enthusiastically.

“You’ve got a great song here,” Donovan said as he tapped on the table to keep tempo while I played and sang. We only had one guitar.

The rain was coming down harder now. It was really pouring as we sat sheltered on the couches in the hotel lobby.

I finished playing.

“I’ll show you what you’ve got,” Donovan said, preparing to play for me now, the song as he heard it. I handed him my guitar.

“You ready to record it again?” Donovan asked.

“Take your time,” I said in a panic, multitasking with my brain, “The batteries went out.” I dropped the batteries onto the table. I thought to myself, “Change the batteries fast man, change the freaking batteries. Donovan is going sing your song!”

“Remember when you started the song here?,” Donovan asked as he played the intro guitar chords. “I remember that was so cool. It made all the sense in the world.”

He started playing and singing. Half way though, still playing he yelled out, “It’s a great song man!”

I started singing it too. We sang together as Donovan played guitar.

“It’s cool!” Donovan said between singing.

We stopped.

“We’re going to have to tighten this up now. So it’s less words,” Donovan said.

We went through it several more times singing and stopping, eliminating a few words.

“It’s even better.” Donovan said. “It’s your song. I’m building it up for you. It’s a great pop song, man,” he said with a laugh.

We stopped.

“And that’s the new hit from Daniel Isle Sky,” Donovan said into my tape recorder as if speaking to an audience.

“Sweet,” is all I could think of to say.

“Why now...” Donovan said, “Why don’t you just practice that bit, the verse. And do it a bit slower. Like I told you, do these things slow.”

I started singing. Donovan started in. We sang together, Donovan tapping on something, the table I think.

“Keep playing that one!” he shouted.

Towards the end of the song, Donovan said, “Now with a smile,” suggesting I smile when I sing this part of the song, “Still... waiting for you.”

We finished playing.

“You got a song,” Donovan said, proud of me, proud of his student.

He added, “Not only a song. You’ve got a good song. I didn’t write this melody because you went..,” he said as he hummed the melody. “You were smart,” Donovan said, “ ‘Cause this D tuning, most people start with the open chord. But you started with what we call the E first. And all it is is phrasing.”

“Check that recording,, Donovan said. “But you can’t play it back because you got no headphones, right?” he said referring to the small recorder.

“It has a speaker,” I said, wanting to hear it back while I was still with him.

“You can’t really hear it because of the wind,” Donovan said in his studio business manner. “Do you know if you’ve got it? Do you have it? Do you have headphones back in your room?”

“I do,” I replied.

“Why don’t you go back...,” Donovan said as he looked outside wondering if the weather was better. “Oh, it’s still pouring down rain. We can’t go.”

“Where’s the umbrella darling?” Donovan asked the woman at the front desk.

“Take the umbrella,” Donovan instructed me, “and the machine,” referring to the tape recorder, “leave the guitar, go back, and check that you’ve got it.”

Not wanting to go, I started playing it back to him. The woman at the front desk spoke up, “Right here.”

“Oh, can you hear it?” Donovan said, surprised that she had been listening. Not only was she listening, it turned out to be one of her favorite songs.

“Umbrella.” Donovan said to me in a first thing’s first voice.

“Ok.” I said, preparing to head off to my room to listen. But I will be back Mr. Donovan. I’m not through with you. I’m coming back as soon as I have had a listen.

“I need you to go back and listen to it on your own. I want you to hear it on headphones. I want you to tell me that all the words are there,” Donovan added before I head off.

Back in my room I listened. The recording sounded fine to me. I walked back through the rain to the hotel lobby. Donovan was still on the couch waiting. I wanted to get his opinion on another song, one that would become Sister Valerie.

Donovan looked at the chords I had written. He picked up my guitar and said, “2,3,4...” as he started playing the chords.

I sang. I forgot to bring the lyrics so I made some new ones up as I tried to remember the ones I had written. I ad-libbed and tried not to be distracted and nervous as I thought to myself, “I’m singing while Donovan plays guitar!”

It was a little rough. A few things were off pitch. But it seemed to be enough. Donovan seems to be satisfied.

“Ok.” He said, “I think you’ve got it. Me messing around with these lyrics - forget them. I think you’ve got it.”

Donovan put down my guitar. “Looks like I might actually brave my bicycle now...I think we had a great afternoon,” Donovan said as he sang a bit of Waiting for You.

“It’s a rock song...It’s called a rock ballad.” he said. “If you play this song in your live gigs, be prepared for girls to throw themselves at you.”

I laughed. I think he must have been remembering the 60’s, before he meet Linda. While he was waiting for her.

“Then you have to decide”, Donovan said in a, ‘It’s your choice’ kind of voice. “Or maybe that girl that you’re waiting for will be at that gig”, he said, “And she’ll go...”, emulating a girl’s voice, “And I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I don’t know”, Donovan says quizzically. “Life is a journey. They say that everybody’s thinking of the destination ya know. But, the journey is the destination. Why would you have to actually keep waiting for it to get there when you can enjoy the space to get there. Because once you get there maybe it’s boooooring, you know, maybe it’s the end. Who gives a...just getting there is the wonderful part.”

He paused then asked me in a serious voice, “Is there a Sister Valerie?”

“There is”, I replied in a short but firm breath, not sure if and how I want to explain what the song is about.

“You knew her before she took orders?” Donovan asked with a laugh.

“No. The Catholic nuns were mean to us as kids.” I said.

“Yep, yep.” Donovan got it.

“And then I asked myself”, I said to Donovan, “Why were they, why was she so mean? Who did that to her? How did she get to be a nun?”

Donovan interjected, “The chord structure means that it’s an epic song. It’s not just an, ‘I love you, Why’d you make me blue’. And you saw that. Therefore, when you said, ‘Sister Valerie, how’d you get put in here’, now you’re talking about a kind of a journey, like spirit.”

Donovan paused and then asked again, “And so, who is Sister Valerie?”

I laughed at his persistence. “When I was ten,” I said, ”She was one of my grade school teachers at a Catholic school.”

“Ah.” Donovan said. “Linda was brought up a Catholic. I wasn’t. My mother was a Catholic”, he says as if remembering something, “But she dropped it. Linda knows all about that sort of cowl and all that.”

“My father taught me humanism” Donovan continued, “But I learned later about the spiritual paths of the Catholics, the Hindus, the Dowist, the Zen, just down below the gulf here...,” his voice trailed off.

In a higher voice as if recalling other things, Donovan added, “And above, and into pagan, American indian, all that.”

Back to the song, Donovan said in a gentle, supportive voice, “You’ve got that man. And I don’t even need to look at this lyric. You have to build it, OK?

“So the last thing I’m going to say this afternoon,” he began, “Before I get on my bike,” he added in a brave the storm way, I know I’m going to get wet voice, “is quite simply...” He paused to chose his words carefully.

“What I’ve learned is...it’s difficult for you to actually...”

“Keep up.” I interjected, referring to me being able to play the guitar while singing at the same time

”And...”, Donovan added, making motions of guitar strumming. “Unless it’s jingo jang, real basic…

“So I would suggest” Donovan said, “If you are not to shy. Find someone that you don’t mind playing with. ‘Cause it’s not out of the question. Many vocalists, guitar players, song players had a side kick. And the side kick didn’t sing. He just played. So you don’t have to feel, ‘I’ve got to play and sing’, until you’ve actually learned it.”

We both laughed.

“Then you can do it all.” Donovan said.

“But that long descending is quite classical you know...” Donovan said. “And I saw you having to go...”, He made air guitar gestures.

I laughed to break the tension that I might be taking this too seriously.

“Even I,” Donovan added, “At the end, I have to look. I’m not perfect. When I get down there”, he said making the sound of bending guitar strings. “But I have experience. So I can fake it. I can fake it if I don’t know it.”

He’s probably just trying to humor me and make me feel better.

“We’ll it looks like the storm has passed us by,” Donovan said. 
So I think I’m going to go down to my cabana. So I’ll see you tomorrow. At eight AM.” He sang to himself softly as he walked out the door, “I’m waiting for you. I’m wait’n for you...”

------------------------------------

Now the way I recall it, we had just finished going over Sister Valerie. And while the song wasn’t perfect, I think Donovan felt a bit mission accomplished, proud of his student, it’s been a good day, why drag it out and make it more than it needs to be.

The way I remember it, he was sitting on the couch, playing my guitar while I sang. We finished and he said “You’ve got it.” Then abruptly something to the order of, “I feel like a beer”.

It may have been I that suggested we go outside to the bar. Or I  followed his lead. Either way, we went to the bar outside and cracked open two bottles of local beer. Not bad really. Similar to Corona.

There were a few locals, sitting and standing around. It was happy hour, out of season on a small, less visited island. It was not crowded. Just enough people to mingle with.

Donovan decided he wasn’t really in the mood for a beer so we switched to wine. I was giddy because I had two good songs underway and I had just sang a duet with the great Donovan playing my guitar. I was in celebratory mode. I am not a big drinker. But a glass of wine or two... I got a bottle and poured us each a glass.   

As we were talking and socializing I must have not been paying attention to how many glasses we had. It seemed like a few sips. It went by quickly. Donovan was getting ready to leave but he couldn’t because it was still raining. I kept topping his glass off because I thought he was going to leave any moment. I thought he was walking. I forgot he was riding his bicycle. I thought I would fill his glass so he would have some left over for when he got back to his house.

When he would tilt his glass for me to pour him more, he would tip it, bringing it up to the bottle, as if to say “That’s enough mate”. But I didn’t pick up on it. He was trying to keep his glass half full; I was trying to top it off for him to take back home.

Linda arrived. Daggers. She said to me, “I understand your pain.” I don’t think she knew I don’t drink very much.

She was cross and asked Donovan to leave.

Donovan wanted to stay. He’s a social, easy going guy.

Linda said to me, “Go. Just go”. The logic was if I left Donovan would leave.

Understanding this, I told everyone I had to go practice my guitar. I left and went to my room. I admit I felt a little tipsy. I might have had more to drink than I thought.

Fortunately Linda wasn’t cross with me the next morning. I guess she forgave any stupidity and careless thinking on my part. How often does one have a tremendous day, with a living legend, performing a self-penned song in a hotel lobby? I was a little out of my head, in never-never land.

-----------------------------

I emailed to Willow:

Well this was my big day. The afternoon alone with Donovan…

I was rather frustrated and sad preparing for it because I have a lyric but no matter how many hours (and days) I have tried working on the melody it wasn't there. I mean I thought it was great but you know Donovan is a master. Things were looking pretty grim. I spent the night working on loads of pages of drafts on lyrics for another new song, one put to chords Donovan taught me, ones I can barely play. I mean, I know there's good songs. The trouble is playing guitar at the same time.

To which I still had some time with him so I thought I'd try another song, one I wrote to play to the chords he gave us. But I hadn't practiced it as a song. I didn't' even had a structure for the song, just a summary of the best lyrics from pages of them.

Donovan didn't have his guitar so I gave him mine. With Donovan playing the guitar, I just sang, ad-libbed from the notes of my unfinished lyrics. It was beautiful. I felt his music and sang what I felt, picking parts of notes I had. The first take was it. I felt like one of the Beatles. It sounded good.

I'd say the whole trip was composing that one song on the spot with Donovan, one I sang to his guitar playing.

Donovan has come to the conclusion that it's best if I have someone else play guitar.

He gave me a huge compliment - that I'm a "lyricist". If only he knew that ten pages of re-writes went into that song and I still didn't have it when he started playing.. How many cups of coffee (he commented when he visited my cabana, seeing several coffee cups strewn about, that I must drink a lot of coffee). And that I stayed up till mid-night and still didn't actually have a song when he started playing his chords. I just sang what I felt. Later when he tried to help me "write" the proper song to what we just sang it didn't quite work out as good.

A very kind and gentle soul the D.

I think I got him (and myself) in trouble with Linda because, having finished our business early we started drinking. A good white wine. The view of the ocean and the beach from the outside bar at sunset in the rain is quite extraordinary. He couldn't ride his bike back to the house he's staying at and the cell and internet weren't working to call her because of the storms. I didn't realize how much we may have drank.

Such a happy soul that Donovan is :)  I understand he has a picture book autobiography that goes with all the stories he's been telling me. Got to pick up a copy.

Man, can you imagine..I just spent the afternoon writing songs with Donovan. and singing ad-lib. And then (don't tell anyone) getting myself half-drunk and listening to him tell stories about the old days, like when he was 16, before he got famous.

DAY 6 - Day Off

               But the turn
               The south part of the island
               The wild side, it’s wild down there
               Big rocks, sharks, barracuda
               And the people that go down there…
               A little bit wild

               Place goes back 40 years
               Never changed
               There’s a hotel
               Not like here
               Cold drink, couple of hours
               A look out over the ocean
               Take it as it comes
               Experience it.
               Just an experience.

               Have you ever been on your own
               In a funky rental car
               on a Bohemian island?
               It’s a 50’s diving hotel
               Pink and lime green
               If you meet someone down there
               Ask them
               This is soft and sandy
               Down there it’s rocky and wild

                -  DONOVAN

These are things Donovan said to me while preparing me for my day off with the rental car. It was my day off while Larry got his half day with Donovan.
 

The Irish Airman

In the morning, before I left with the car, Donovan gave me an assignment. He opened a book of poems, an old text by W.B. Yeats, A Terrible Beauty is Born. He must of have had it for years.

Inside it were two photo copies, copies of poems. He handed them to me. On the copies he had written, “Work up a song for Day 6 -  Any unit style of chords [that he had taught us]”. He wanted me to pick one of the poems to write a song to.

One of the poems was “An Irish Airman Foresees His Death”; the other, “The Pity of Love”. I chose the Irish Airman because Donovan’s father or grandfather, I can’t remember which, used to make fly wheels for the spitfires in the war. Donovan talked about how crazy it was: you just go up in a bucket of bolts. You didn’t care if it was built perfectly. They did not build them to last, just to get up in the air.

I took the poem and left on a journey to the other side of the island.

I had a good day on the island driving around, getting lost, going in circles. There were no street signs and few cars. Once when I was not sure if I was going to right way I flagged down a car. Everyone was friendly. Turned out I actually knew where I was going that time.

I went where Donovan told me to, the old divers club, tucked away in the middle of the island. The bar was closed. Out of season. There were still some boats docked. Some big, some small. I wondered where they all came from. Some of the larger ones had bicycles and go-carts people could use to get around the island. I had to wear a long sleeve shirt otherwise I’d get sunburn even though it’s winter time.

Mid-morning it rained heavy. I found shelter under a cabana at a small hotel on the edge of a rocky beach. Wearing my rain coat, holding my umbrella over my guitar, I rushed from car to cabana. I wondered if anyone in the hotel wondered who I was or why I crashed their beach cabana.

I was out there for quite a while, practicing, writing, and enjoying the beauty of the tropical thunder storm. The clouds, sunlight and ocean mixed to form an interesting pallet of changing colors.

When the rain stopped, I had written a new song, the one to the poem Donovan gave me. It has a couple of elements related to my time with Donovan. The intro and the verses have the descending chords that may sound familiar. Donovan taught them to the Beatles. And to that I added the claw-hammer.

Feeling good about my accomplishment, I went into the hotel and ordered lunch. Mid-way though some Texans showed up. Woo hoo! Two people. Rush hour!

When I was finished eating lunch I drove the car back to the rental company. They would give me a lift back to the hotel. I didn’t realize there was only one car, the one I was driving. The rental car company is also the local store. I didn’t want to leave my stuff out in front of the store so I lugged it all inside. They kindly laughed at me as if to say, “No one is going to steal your stuff.” Unlike the big island there’s no crime here.

Dinner at a Friend’s House

I would have been longer getting back but Donovan had us scheduled to have dinner with some friends. It was at a house on the beach they built themselves. Old hippies. We were going to drive over in Donovan’s car. It was just to be wine and snacks. Not a big party.

Donovan told us to bring our guitars. We somehow fit three guitars and five people into his car. It was not a far drive.

At the party, I can’t remember playing anything except the latin groove thing Donovan showed us. Donovan of course spontaneously went into story telling and playing a few of his songs.

While hanging out, Donovan asked who my favorite's were, bands that made me want to pick up the guitar and how I knew about him. At first I thought I’d keep to the typical story of having a band when you’re a teenager. Then I told him the truth. But it was kind of noisy and I don’t think he heard the last part.

Talking about the bands, I mentioned to Donovan I had been a bass player. To which Donovan asked, “Did you stand in one place or did you move around?”

I paused for a minute before replying, “I pretty much stand still”. In fact my bass teacher saw me once at a show, came up afterwards and with great urgency told me to come see him tomorrow. I thought he was going to show me something cool. Instead he sat me down and with a worried look on his face said that I literally do not move. And that we need to do something about that.

After I told Donovan I just stand there, Donovan told the story about the bass player of the Rolling Stones, Bill Wyman. Wyman was getting an award where the presenter showed a picture of Wyman playing bass in concert, standing still. And then he showed another picture, years later, of Wyman. Still standing still. And then Donovan talked about the Who and their bass player. Standing still. And then Donovan asked me, “Why do some of the great bass players not move around so much? What is it?”

So now I don’t feel conscientious about standing still when I played bass. I took it as a compliment.