Days on Sixth Street in Austin, Texas are like the writing of a new song, beginning with a beat defined by the tempo of your day, or the clop clop of hooves on cobbles. Lyrics ooze from these storied streets like oil from the ground; an enigmatic word left over from the day before, a long shadow on the brick wall, a dog’s growl, even the smell of strong black coffee, a hint of perfume and the flash of sweetness or sorrow it recalls.

As the day gets warmer, words grow into lines stitched together by rhyme. Melody sets it all in motion. Not every line has the pluck to make it to the finished song but those that do are the pure distillate of a life lived out loud.

Then as the sun falls from the sky, footlights come up and the mics are tested “one-two-three, you’re on.” It’s the measure of a good day when hands come together and glasses are raised in honor of what happens on Sixth Street every day.