the back and sides—everything—was white.
The trim, bone threads, mother-of-pearl inlay,
everything was solid white, but the inside was
trimmed out with this Brazilian rosewood that
I’ve had for 20 years. I’m almost done with that
instrument, and that’s the next guitar I’m going
to give Jimmy. That’s the one I really wanted to
make him from day one, and it’s going to be a
spectacular instrument.
Why are you calling the instrument the
White Mare?
It’s a line from the Zeppelin song “Going to
California”—“Ride a white mare in the footsteps of dawn.”
You’re clearly interested in the esoteric—and
you’ve said you’re obsessed with the number
333, even going as far as assigning serial
instruments in conjunction with it. How have
these threads of the arcane and a strong
sense of purpose guided your life and work
to this point?
The number 333 is just a number that keeps
appearing in my life when things are going
good or something is about to go well. It’s just
everywhere—to the point where it’s ridiculous.
I went to someone professionally and said,
“What the hell does this mean? Am I losing my
mind?” And they said that it just means I’m on
the right path. For some reason I’m just more
attuned to it, and it definitely guides the direction of my instruments and the way I conduct
my business. I’ll never forget pulling up to the
Beverly Wilshire hotel in the back of a cab when
I was getting ready to go to Jimmy’s hotel room
and give him the guitar. That was definitely a
very powerful, surreal moment when I sat back
and reflected. I was very conscious of where
I was and where this whole journey has taken
me. I looked at the car in front of us and the
license plate began with “333.” Some people
just aren’t very conscious of things like that—
even though they may be all around them.
To continue doing what we’re doing and
improve and build slowly. I’ve had opportunities in the past where people have shown
up with money and they’ve said “Hey, we’re
going to do this and that and have your guitar
manufactured over here.” I’ve always resisted
that—I’ve been very stubborn with my vision of
creating a really unique, small guitar company
that produces some real sick stuff. I’m very
passionate about what I do or I wouldn’t have
been fighting for the last 15 years. Sure, I’ve
always been in tune and aware of life’s “spooky
stuff,” but I also believe in the science of business, in the science of hard work. Hard work is
the key. You have to believe. I go through these
periods where I’m so deep in my work that I
start questioning—I feel like I’m treading water.
But always, at the end, hard work prevails and
something good comes of it.
What do you see in the next five years for
Parsons Guitars?
