If you don’t ask, you won’t receive. And also, the worst they can say is no, then insult your intelligence. Maybe.

Bologna was a city where if you asked, even in your head, you seemed to receive. Time was running out and we had two cities left- two more cities to find a cellist. Bologna obliged with a cellist playing the theme song to Game of Thrones and the Lord of the Rings soundtrack… I was in heaven and seeing him play on the streets made my heart happy. What made me happier was to see my friends listen with wonder as well. I didn’t get his name but he wa s living the dream. “I live in a motor home. One day I’ll be playing here… next week I could be in Florence for a week, then on to Sienna.” Life goals. Maybe?

If Bologna responded to the pleas of my mind, I wondered what my spoken requests would bring. Running low on cash, I hesitantly asked if one of the street vendors selling his drawings would draw in my moleskin for a handful of coins. *offering coins* “No parla italiano, will you please draw in my *points to notebook* ?” At first the gentleman refused the coins, then said he would take enough for a “cafe.” A few deft strokes later, three kitties with umbrellas floating from the sky were added to my moleskin; adding artistic flair that I lack.

A few steps to the right brought me another artist. I repeated my plea, gesturing timidly with my small pile of coins. He refused the money and to draw in my moleskin, however he pulled from his bag two book marks. The blue one portrayed a small church or house on a rainy day. The smoke curls up from the chimney, cutting through the fat raindrops with ease. The smaller, pink bookmark had a cat on a wall with the mountains in the distance. I clutched them to my chest, bursting with happiness at the gifts I had received.

I asked Bologna for music, and it gave me art as well.