Here I was walking towards the Verdi Cine to see Mustang. I highly recommend it. I highly recommend walking in Gracia, especially at Easter. There are people, some tourists, it’s crowded, but not overcrowded. You can see things and hear things and get up close.
The graffiti grabbed me.
Ed! Ed! Who is Ed?
The heart says it all.
The lady folksinger had the voice of a bird.
I listened, she was sweet, but I was drawn to another voice right up the street.
I never heard Flamenco like this.
Right in front of me! Songs of pain and bliss.
I leaned back against the wall.
Why wasn’t everyone as stunned as me?
How could they talk? How could they stroll by? Didn’t they know what they missed?
Didn’t they hear that miracle?
The cry, the wail, the notes this singer sang!
I had goosebumps, I was thrilled, I was honored to be in their midst.
Not famous. Not digital. Not electronic.
Pure. Chilling. Essential. Spiritual—this!
They sang for you and me, for Easter Sunday, for all of us.
And they were a gift.
Artists on the street.