Last night I went to poet, Roddy Lumsden's launch of his latest book, Not All Honey at the the Betsey Trotwood in Farringdon during which time I had a number of inspiring conversations with fellow poets. This probably explains why my head was full of poetic lines on the tube to Oxford Circus pitch #2 this morning (I've written some of my best work whilst travelling on the tube).
Instantly, I was presented with a £5 note and consequently tried to make every note count as my bow chopped across the violin. An Indian woman whose head was bound in swathes and swathes of white material, three skateboarders and a man who shouted, "Whoo!" as he simultaneously put money in my case: I find joy in observing such characters from this position of busker on the periphery of society.
The book, What Does The Bible Really Teach? was a donation from a sniggering boy I didn't receive so gratefully. Sporadically I encounter Christians who take it upon themselves to attempt to 'save' me from this pitiful existence I lead of begging for money on the street / Underground. I politely (as I can muster) respond to such blind ignorance, "I'm happy earning an honest living doing what I love."
Business was a lot slower at Knightsbridge as people drifted by laden with Harrods bags, but a bride-to-be asked if I could play at her wedding in a Hampshire barn and a woman stuck her tongue out at me (something I've never experienced in nine and a half years of busking)!