The first time I went to New York for work I was at a loose end and made several walks into and around Central Park as some were like pilgrimages I needed to make. To go to the Guggenheim Museum as it featured in the work of Richard Hamilton (the subject of my collegiate thesis) but first to go and stand at the Dakota Building to pay my respects to where John Lennon lived, worked and was taken from us and I walked across the road from the park and stood in the doorway as near to the entrance gates as I could.
I couldn't stay for long as it was too intense suddenly being impacted by how much this was exactly where he died was so heavy to say the least and surprised as to how much it hit me but I stood for a moment and hung my head thinking about what John meant to me. I had a hanging tooth threatening to come out on the plane over and as I stood by the park and looked back at the building where John was murdered, I ripped the tooth (a big back molar) and the piece of hanging bloody flesh still holding it in place and pulled, casting the bloody vestige of my tooth containing my DNA into the foliage of the trees and shrubs nearest to the Dakota! Somehow a piece of my own DNA cast out into the park land brought me comfort and I walked back to my hotel in silence.
I wonder if Yoko was at home?