Reading about Daniel Patrick Moynihan in the New Yorker inspires writing. He wrote as a politician intent on shaping the world about issues that concern everyone. His efforts will help restore Penn Station's glory, and the new Penn Station, invading like an alien utility into the interior of the massive 10001 post office, will bear his name.
I remember that post office as the place where Robert O'Connor's father worked. We would go to the local Blarney Stone nearby... A comparable building may be the Union Square Consolidated Edisons Building, tucked away.
In other news, preparing a production of A Question of Solitude, with a great ensemble, by the way, I'm lately getting in touch with my solitary self. That means evaluating, too, the possibility that my creative work is entirely personal and has little to offer others, let alone even improving my own life. But that is the challenge assumed by all artists. I'll continue to move forward.