MUSINGS FROM MY YOGA MAT

I want to change all that I wrote yesterday about this Paris experience. Earlier on today, in the thick of what I thought was a hard day - and it was in a lot of ways - I could focus only on the bad points - the heat, the fast pace of the passers by, the expense and apparent non-vegan-ness of everything... I even came back to this haven of a hotel room and lay on my mat to write it all out before this thunderstorm came and thankfully washed the negativity out of me. And now its like an instant RECHARGE, and I'm glad.

So here's my day in brief - the impressions, the images, the overall feeling.

Hot Parisien streets. Tooo many people and a SUN thats stretched tight over so much touristic mayhem. Passers by not so appreciative of the notes I play, or perhaps I've just gotten used to the Irish love of music - I certainly miss the response I got there that's for sure, they are memories I carry deep within. Also I know that, because I'm determined to make back the thirty Euro's I 'lost' yesterday at Dublin airport, there's possibly a sense of desperation in my sound. I play long and hard, callouses on my fingers deepening, my voice breaking and remaking itself. It's hard work today and I realise this as a stranger leaves me the following note after sitting and watching on a dirty park bench for a while:

'You deserve to be listened to more carefully. I wish you luck. Adrienne'

I meet VINCENT , my angel of Chatelet who brings me cold water and cool fruits, and hangs around to make sure I don't get any hassle from the drunks, though I feel I don't need protecting - I'm getting tougher by the day, inside and out. Skin brown from this European summer. Biceps not quite rippling (god no...), but strong nevetheless from lugging my case around everywhere. Conversation-wise, I'm just not willing to engage with the myraid of sleazy men around; one tries to tell me how boring he found New Zealand to be when he went there, obviously ding his best to egg me on and evoke a reaction. I just smile, teeth clenched inside, and make for the nearest Metro station with an 'Au Revoir!' and a raise eyebrow. Later indeed, my opportunistic friend...

So now that another day is over, I look back and see how my clinging to money only made me miss the small beauties I appreciate now... the Mexican band on the subway that had hands clapping and feet a-lifting even in the midst of the throng to and from the Chatelet line. Terrance, the young (16 yrs?) Christian from Virginia, U.S.A who bought my CD and whose heart sank at the thought of leaving Paris in a week, the city he loves and has studied in for the past year. Beautiful snapshots I capture in word alone, now that my digital camera has gone bust and I'm too busy wielding my case around to see any sights.

But now, on my yoga mat, I'm happy with my minimalistic Parisien lifestyle. Loadsa fruit to eat, and not much else due to the heat - maybe a falafel if they have good tahini. I'm always paying for things out of little plastic baggies of coins these days, and I'm quite used to the looks I'm getting from the shopkeepers - but what to do? This is busking for you...

Cars pass outside, I love the sound their wheels make in the puddles still forming on the noisy streets of Montmartre. I sleep early (again) and look forward to whatever tomorrow brings...