One thing I have noticed more and more is the amount of
music that I see here in Paris. I have seen all kinds of instruments; guitars,
oboes, French horns, saxophones, violins, bass clarinets, accordions, people
singing, etc. It is really fun for me to see all of this musical talent and
variety of instruments because I was in a concert band for eight years and have
spent countless hours around these instruments. I think it is really fun to be
able to tell who is talented and who is not, and I thank my mom mentally every
time I see or hear a musician for forcing me to be in band all those years and
take all those music lessons and practice even when I didn’t want to (almost
always). Every Sunday morning Charlotte and I wake up and hear a man up the street
in Montmartre playing his accordion. Even though it seems incredibly cliché to
open the French doors in our tiny apartment on the sixth floor above a spiral
wooden staircase to our miniature balcony and see the terra cotta chimneys
scattered along the rooftops and hear a man playing French tunes on his creaky
accordion, I absolutely adore it. I love the idea of people who have grown up
playing an instrument going out into public and displaying their talents, not
because it is the only way to make money but because they love what they do and
want to show their talent off while making a few extra coins on the side. And
for those homeless people sitting on the floor of the metro playing for money,
I think there is no sweeter way to beg then to exchange the efforts and joys of
music for a few coins. Everywhere I go, weather it be laying on the grass below
Sacre Cur, taking the metro, walking down the street to get to class or a
museum, or picnicking under the Eiffel Tower, I feel like I am being serenaded.
This is something I am definitely going to miss when I am back in the U.S.
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