And Today We Clapped for Ourselves.

Being a street musician is great. I mean, we're in Paris eating Nutella crepes and drinking wine under the lights of the Eiffel Tower. We would love to make you believe that it is all picture perfect all the time...But then we remember...

- Blisters galore.

- Owners kicking us away as soon as we open our cases...5 times in a row

- Clapping for ourselves because no one seems to care. i.e. Performing a rousing version of a Paginini Caprice and...silence.

- Playing on a random street corner, in the baking sun, next to a pile of dog poop, with flies buzzing. Why? Because no one wanted us anywhere else.

- Playing a 45 minute set in front of the breathtaking Sacre Coeur and receiving the incredible amount of!! Oh yea, nothing.

- Trying to find a good spot to play but winding up walking miles just to discover there is nowhere for us to play in that area and we should just go home (again, the blisters)

- Being totally parched from performing for hours and having NOWHERE to find water. Oh yea, and no bathrooms anywhere. So we're thirsty and have to pee, and are playing with blisters on our feet. And clapping for ourselves. Next to a pile of dog poop.

All in all, the life of a street musician is a continual adventure - a roller coaster of ups and downs.

After a bad day of playing, walking forever, and getting stuck at a train station for an unnecessarily long time.

Trying to sit. Fail.