For several reasons, I wrote this approximately 3 weeks ago, but I haven't been able to post it until now. To be read in the context of mid-to-late August. I'll write soon about the up-to-present. And how I saw the writer from "Stahnding Room Only" (February) again last week.
After a job interview, my new boss suggested I check out St. John the Divine. “Have you been there?” “No .” “It’s the largest cathedral in North America.”
I walked up Amsterdam to 110th . I like cathedrals – it’s a
place to commune, to be quiet. I like the stone and cold, windows and dark
light. In Paris, it’s Notre Dame (however clichéd) and everywhere else. Here,
it’s…
I went in,
similar feeling, similar, except not nearly as cold. Quiet. Leaving, I walked
up the street to discover more of my new New York. Next to the cathedral, there
is a hospital. Pause. Ridiculous – no – nothing to do there – to see whom?
Pause, but there's a small pull and I walk towards the main
entrance. It’s unfamiliar (but I’ve worked in 7). It’s private (never done
that) and there’s a guard at the desk.
