Description The body parts of the dead displaced in the streets.Their painful expressions haunt even the most resilient psyche. The explosive scorched earth smells of gunpowder and blood. You can taste the blood of the dead upon your lips. We are joined now, united by this strange twilight in fate. The face has been completely removed and lay on the ground of a suicide bomber. It is as a mask a mere flap of skin that is folded over. A soon to be martyr is exalted just as those before him. His picture is taken in that certain way that superimposes the grandiosity of his wake. All will praise him because he is great. His eyes drift upward looking to Allah. He is as a prophet-holy. The young man at the bottom emanates dark thought forms from his mind as he prowls about for a good place to fit his next exercise in death upon the young American blood.
I have been absorbed with the subject of war since my deployment to Iraq in 2004. There, I patrolled the streets of Mosul as a medic in an infantry battalion. The tale of that year is one of tragedy and triumph - of sadness and joy, for which I have a lifetime to reflect on the things I witnessed. The images are still vivid. The ferocity of war imprinted upon my mind. I will never forget the twisted steel mixed with fleshy carnage. My heart sinks when I recall a decimated group of children while a mother looks on in horror. The memory bleeds straight through me. In my efforts to find a meaning, I use my art to honor the greatest triumph of the human spirit of these grave moments. This is my role as an artist. My art reveals the cast of characters caught in the drama of war. The tyrants, heroes, villains and the innocent are characters of a drama whose tragic moments ripple throughout my eternity. The motifs of my work share expressions of these experiences. Some are good and some are bad, some deserve honor and must be celebrated.