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UPDATE: I deleted my original post because it contained information and links to a story I came across that was so ugly and upsetting I just didn’t want to anything to proliferate the story. So the following is an edited down version.

When I was researching The Restless Sleep I came across a case of a little boy who went missing in the 1930’s. Just looking at his picture on the NYPD website got to me. It was from another time. It was obvious that his case will never be solved, and everyone who ever knew him is now dead. It’s over. Done. I thought of him again because of this new book about Etan Patz, a famous missing child case here in NYC.

The picture of the boy I remembered is no longer on the NYPD website, but I found him on the Doe Network. Joseph Rodriguez, 4 years old, went missing on September 6, 1936 from New York City. The information about him is scant.

“Rodriguez was last seen outside of his family’s home at 1637 Park Avenue in Spanish Harlem (Manhattan), NY on September 6, 1936. He has never been seen again. On September 12, the boy’s aunt, Pauline Rodriguez, received a telegram that suggested Joe may have been injured. It read: “Dear Pauline: Joseph will be back on Wednesday. Doctor will not let me move him.” But Wednesday came and went, without any trace of the missing child.”

This is the garden behind the Jefferson Market where Miranda and Steve (Sex and the City) got married. Our concert last night was okay, by the way.  I’m not sure it was a complete success.  I wish we could do it again.  I think there were a couple of problems that we could have fixed.  It’s a little frustrating.  You work so hard and then it’s not perfect!

I told Will I wanted something a little shorter and flippier and I walked out with the best cut EVER of all time.

<———Check it out.  I do not lie.

If you want great hair too, I go to Will at Whistle, (212) 477-0631, 267 East 10th Street, except they’re moving next door, so I think it will be 265 East 10th.

So now I can go to the performance tonight with that “I feel pretty, oh so pretty” spring in my step.

Now I have to practice the bits I messed up last night.

Thank you, Denver!  A friend spotted this and took a picture.  Woohoo!  I’m so happy it’s still on the shelves and in at least one store it was given the honor of a staff recommendation.  (Although being next to Kazuo Ishiguro gives me an “I am not worthy” feel!)

I saw this photograph by August Sander a couple of weeks ago.  I mean, right away, it hits you in the face. Some people point a camera at a couple of kids and you get faces so anonymous it’s like you’re not even looking at anyone.

But Sander shoots a couple of kids and we get this.  I stare and stare and stare. Talent feels like magic to me sometimes. How do they do that??

I am so happy Kris is in the final two. (American Idol. It’s a tv thing.)  I remember at the beginning of the season he was such a mystery.  He hadn’t been introduced to us in the audition process, not that I could remember anyway, and he seemed so light weight.  But it turns out he was smoldering and subtle.

Tonight we rehearse the Missa Solemnis with the orchestra.  We’ll go all the way inside of Beethoven’s head for the first time.  We’ll hear everything he heard, and be completely enveloped by whatever he was feeling.  

It will be like a musical seance, and the once living breathing heart of Beethoven will come back to life and speak to us again, through the choir and the orchestra, his mediums.