Cue the music. Claude Debussy Arabesque in C sharp Minor. Hi, my name is Greta Beleskaite and I play the piano. My fingers glide over the the keys, while the neighbor's overweight cat is being chased by restless children across the canal de saint Martin in Paris. My imagination shifts as I float through a story told by distant harmonies reverberating in my living room. Ideas flow like silent movies projected on the sheets of music. Little notes start dancing on the worn out pieces of paper, when suddenly the neighbours start stomping on the ceiling. Arguing about something truly irrelevant, interrupting the creative play. I take of my headphones and look at the drawing I made, putting the pencil down. This city is quite far away from Paris and the line between fantasy and reality has gotten quite thin, but one thing’s for sure, I’m Greta Beleskaite and I don’t just create unique work. I play the piano. So let’s make music together.
Cue the music. Claude Debussy Arabesque in C sharp Minor. Hi, my name is Greta Beleskaite and I play the piano. My fingers glide over the the keys, while the neighbor's overweight cat is being chased by restless children across the canal de saint Martin in Paris. My imagination shifts as I float through a story told by distant harmonies reverberating in my living room. Ideas flow like silent movies projected on the sheets of music. Little notes start dancing on the worn out pieces of paper, when suddenly the neighbours start stomping on the ceiling. Arguing about something truly irrelevant, interrupting the creative play. I take of my headphones and look at the drawing I made, putting the pencil down. This city is quite far away from Paris and the line between fantasy and reality has gotten quite thin, but one thing’s for sure, I’m Greta Beleskaite and I don’t just create unique work. I play the piano. So let’s make music together.
Cue the music. Claude Debussy Arabesque in C sharp Minor. Hi, my name is Greta Beleskaite and I play the piano. My fingers glide over the the keys, while the neighbor's overweight cat is being chased by restless children across the canal de saint Martin in Paris. My imagination shifts as I float through a story told by distant harmonies reverberating in my living room. Ideas flow like silent movies projected on the sheets of music. Little notes start dancing on the worn out pieces of paper, when suddenly the neighbours start stomping on the ceiling. Arguing about something truly irrelevant, interrupting the creative play. I take of my headphones and look at the drawing I made, putting the pencil down. This city is quite far away from Paris and the line between fantasy and reality has gotten quite thin, but one thing’s for sure, I’m Greta Beleskaite and I don’t just create unique work. I play the piano. So let’s make music together.