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Totally vacant. Soundless. I absorbed it, sketched the view. I’d sneaked in with a motorcycle club that was meeting in the building. I’d written a play, RUE PICASSO, about Picasso under the Nazi Occupation. It became a screenplay that I once handed in to Pacino who I thought then could play him…

Tourist at an art museum, I took an elevator alone to a random floor and blithely stepped out to this. It stopped all movement the elevator door almost caught my coat, closing. Exactly the feeling of the sudden explosion of war.