Threshold

This was the cover of The New Yorker magazine the week I was born. It appears to be the spot where the New Haven line commuter train from Connecticut goes underground right before the station in Harlem, New York or, conversely, right where it reappears from under the city on its way from Grand Central Station on its trek back to New Haven, CT.To me, it is an iconic threshold between the light and the dark, the journey and the destination, between the heaven and the earth, above and below, the womb and the tomb... the metaphors are endless.  It often reminds me of Plato's cave, when the trains would pass each other coming and going into The Big Apple at this metropolitan locale.  What's missing from this wide image is only the trains themselves, leaving room for the mystery.  The tracks are merely fixed traces of the comings and goings of the traveler.I rode the MetroNorth commuter train to H.B. Studios in Greenwich Village where I took acting, dancing and playwriting classes.  I would ride into Grand Central Station, take the subway shuttle into Times Square and then take the A or C train south and walk to Water Street.  I stopped going when I broke my leg and didn't feel safe hobbling through the city streets to get to my classes.  The trains (or subways) could only take the traveler so far before they went on their predetermined way and I went on my own.