The next day we went to Ground Zero. It was a very emotional visit for both of us. We stayed there for quite awhile and I left a poem pinned to the fence that surrounds St. Paul’s Chapel (the church that withstood everything that day and had no damage despite being directly across from the WTC). That afternoon, I was able to meet one of my Gabriel Byrne Internet friends who lives on Staten Island. It was a great pleasure to meet her – felt that I knew her already. Mark was the perfect gentleman. I owe him big-time.

That night, we went to see “Into the Woods” starring Vanessa Williams. Very enjoyable. Meanwhile, I am already running over to Duane Reade (THE pharmacy in NYC) to buy band-aids for all the blisters that I already have on my feet from walking so much (and this is only day two!!). My feet look ridiculous but it’s either bandage them up or don’t walk, so I bandage – heavily. I am the walking wounded. But, will someone please tell me how you get blisters on the TOP of your toes when you have been wearing open-toed shoes the whole time?

On Thursday morning, I talk to Germany and Sotnos who arrived the night before and we decide to meet for lunch in Chinatown. Before we head out to meet them, however, Mark and I decide to walk over to the Robert Mann Gallery just so we can figure out where it is. The party is that night and we certainly don’t want to get lost then!! We are staying at a bed and breakfast in Chelsea – we had stayed there before and it was a no-brainer deciding to stay there again…especially when we learned that the Gallery was literally right around the corner. So, we walked over to the gallery, found it and just sort of stood on the outside, trying to decide what to do next. Finally, we decided that we might as well go on up and make sure that we knew EXACTLY where the gallery was (you can’t have TOO much information, can you?!!). So, up we went, to the 10th floor of the building. There was a sign that said “Robert Mann Gallery” and, on the closed and locked doors, another sign that had the info about Viggo’s exhibit and another sign that said “closed for installation”. There was a doorbell, also, but somehow I restrained myself and didn’t ring it.

We headed back to the elevator and waited for it to come up. The doors opened. And, there and then, stood Mark and Lynn face to face with Viggo and Pilar. Later, Mark said he wondered if I was going to say anything at all or just stand there like the grinning idiot I have become. I really hate to have my picture taken (and you can see why) but I wish that, at the moment the elevator opened, there could have been a snapshot of my face! It would have been the perfect picture of a woman losing all her marbles. Finally (well, maybe 2 seconds went by), I said, not “Viggo?” as you might have guessed but instead “Pilar?” (I had bought a photograph back in February and Pilar and I had kept up a slight correspondence – I’m sure she thinks I’m the goofiest person on earth!). Pilar said, “Lynn”? We chatted for a moment about being in NYC, about the fact that we had been able to find the gallery with no problems, etc. Meanwhile, Viggo and Mark are just standing there - both thinking, I’m sure, why am I even in this picture? Then, Pilar introduced Viggo to us. He shook Mark’s hand, then mine. Mark said, “nice to meet you” and I said something really inane like, “how are you doing?” I think he said the same back to me…I have no idea. My mind is a sieve at this point.

Then, Pilar said something about seeing us later that night and we said we’d be there. Then I got bold and asked if there was anyway we could walk into the gallery right then and get a preview. Pilar said that they weren’t finished installing the photos and paintings yet and that it probably wasn’t a good time. I said that that was fine but also said that I had something I wanted to give to her and Viggo (and, remember, Viggo is standing there the whole time this conversation is going on) and could I just go ahead and give it to them now instead of having to lug the gifts around from venue to venue. Then Pilar told us we could come on into the gallery. So, there we went. – all in a line – Pilar, Viggo, me, then Mark. We walked into the gallery. The all white walls were nearly blinding – many photos were already on the wall and I recognized many of them immediately. Pilar told us to look around. She needed to go put something up in the back room and she and Viggo disappeared for a few minutes. Mark and I walked around the room, me whispering to him about things I knew about the photos and paintings. Mark saying nothing because, at this point, the “I-owe-him” clock is ticking very loudly and we can’t hear over the sound of it.