Coming back to Wayne’s shop after 12 years was no less magical than the first venture. When we got there nothing had changed. Wayne’s a little older, of course, but the quiet beauty and simplicity of the place remains – he looked up from his small chair as though he could have been sitting there since 2007.
“How are you all,” he said in his quiet manner. “Good to see you.”
We talked briefly before the door opened behind us. It was an unannounced gentleman from Maryland. He had just driven 8 hours to watch Wayne work as Johnny had all those years ago.
“Make yourself at home,” Wayne said.
And we did.
Over the course of the next two hours we were once again mesmerized by the peaceful ease in which Wayne brought together all the various and intricate processes and pieces of a guitar. “Number 784,” he said.
And I think I have figured out the magic.
Time stands still in that little cinderblock shop because there is no such thing as an “interruption” – Wayne takes everything as it comes – every visitor, every question, every seemingly perfect – as well as clearly imperfect – moment.
And he lets it have its way.
It is a simple and humble and holy pace.
It is – God’s time.
And I am convinced THAT is the reason his guitars come out the way they do.
Each note simple and true.
Born of humility and trust.
Thank you Wayne.