As I was walking through the park one cold January day in Colorado, possibly in an attempt to remove myself from the conditions, my mind traveled to warmer times. I went, as inexplicably as memory will sometimes do, to Saudi Arabia, of all places. I should start by explaining that I am a U.S. Marine. I was in an anti-terrorism security team and on my first mission. We were was in Bahrain, an island off the coast of Saudi Arabia, and a strategic staging area for the U.S. Navy. Amongst other objectives, in 1996 before he became the famous conductor of the attacks on 9/11, we were hunting for Bin Laden.

But, as memory will do it vanished before my eyes and I was back in 2005 in beautiful Boulder Colorado. I was on the bus. I am now hearing an ongoing conversation in the seats next to mine. Although I cannot quote, the paraphrase would go something like, “And he said… and she said… I can’t believe what that girl is wearing, and she thinks she’s so…” and so on.

The troubling aspect of this observation was not the conversation. I have endured, and at times participated in idiotic banter in far more inappropriate venues than a bus to be put off by these harmless Boulderites.

Suddenly, I recall walking into St. Peter’s Basilica in The Vatican and being moved to tears, only to have two teenagers “going off” about how “hot” their new cell phone ring tones are.

What is bothering me, as we continue hurtling through stoplight after stoplight, is the realization that I had no intention of thinking, that day, about the fact that there were young teenage Americans, who are much like my fellow bus passengers, in a very different situation than we. There were those who would likely die tonight.

We are at war. Even as I write this essay, in a hip coffee shop, listening to great music and drinking an imported Chimay Ale from Belgium, we are at war. Now, do not think that my expressions are ones of scorn towards the American populace. Nor do I feel that the public does not care about the nameless soldier; I simply mean to express that there are very few who consider this on even a daily basis. This is not surprising, as the huge majority of us, around 85%, have no family or true loved ones who are in harms way.

The preceding thoughts are the beginnings of the concepts for my installation, and of course, I am aware of the multitude of political statements that could be inferred; however, this does not weigh heavily upon my mind. I simply wish to bring awareness, for those who do not have direct reason to, toward our service men and women who are “over there.” As in any work of art, the audience will infer what it will. At the risk of seeming heavy-handed, I am simply depicting the subject of war as it has been revealed to me, in a very real, shocking, and life changing way. I felt that direct impression of a mood served this purpose best. I wished to create a situation, which would most powerfully move the viewer to try to reflect on events, which are occurring daily, as we go on with our normal lives.

As a side note I wish to say to all those who have entered public service, you are appreciated. Politicians, firemen, police, armed forces, librarians, little league coaches, even lawyers and certainly not least teachers, in times of peace, war, affluence, and poverty, you are the foundation of our society.

Thank You