Part diary, part field journal of a somewhat modern girl. books. art. movies. politics. pop culture. travel.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
My life as a movie
As I stepped off of the frenzied train and closer to the reality of my day, I let my mind wander back to last night, dreaming a little of that photo. The escalator brought me steps closer to solid ground and a lone trumpet wove a melodious soundtrack that carried me along the city's streets. The background music of my morning set, it occured to me how much I get from DC's street musicians. They romanticize my life, give me hope for a better day or simply put a smile on my face. Thank you Mr. Gospel Guitarist at Courthouse, who puts a spring in my step. Thank you Mr. Beautiful Dread Saxophonist who plays away my pain. Mr. Asian Instrument Man, you transport me to another time and era. And, finally, thank you Mr. Romantic Trumpet, who made me feel like a movie star.
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I love street musicians... If I had talent, I'd be one. Hell, even if didn't have talent but could play an instrument I would be one. You think there's interest in a disheveled kazoo player?
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