ABSTRACT
TRAFFIC RETURNED TO THE STREETS OF MY NEIGHBORHOOD TODAY AFTER THE CORDON WAS MOVED SOUTH TO CANAL STREET. It was the day of Bush’s tardy visit and the sky was filled with the futile darting of fighter jets, commanding anxious looks upward with every pass. I made my way through the police lines to my studio and sat around numbly for most of the day. Outgoing communication was down and I was unable to respond to dozens of e-mail and phone messages wondering if we were all alive.
