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8/30/09 Snapshot: Sevilla Street Music

From my conveniently-pocket-sized-journal:

It must be past 10, but I haven't noticed the bells lately, so don't know the actual time. I'm reclining against a column on the stairs of some government building that faces The Cathedral. The buildings reach towards each other as the street narrows here, creating a man-made canyon, an acoustic playground that a flamenco guitar artist is exploiting to the joy of the dozen of us sitting on these steps like the risers at a concert.

The humidity I noticed earlier - not a bath like Houston or a sauna like St. Louis, but still noticeable to someone who has spent a year and a half in mountains and deserts - keeps the night air warm. It's probably 80ish, warm enough that I'm glad to be sleeveless, but not hot enough to be uncomfortable. Rather perfect, really, especially now that a faint breeze has skipped in to toss the hairs that escaped from my ponytail.

The guitarist's fingers dance over the strings, quicker than ballet, rhythmic and dynamic and forceful and subtle and decisive and suggestive and stubborn and teasing and cajoling...

While enjoying the multihued bliss of my dinner, I compared it to a symphony. Now I'm comparing music to wine (the way wine snobs write about it, anyway)...

The music drew me here from my post-dinner perambulations. The acoustics of this smooth-walled chasm amplify his music far beyond the electronic amplifier he also uses. I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a concert in the park so much.

But now he's putting away his instrument, so I'll put away my pen and see what else is stirring the Sevilla air tonight...

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