Creeping Death

Sometimes I just can't resist using Metallica song titles.
The departure clock ticks down, though I'm not sure if anything will happen come H-hour.
Dec. 14 remains my flight date, but the arrival of my special passport and visa may or may not precede the flight. if it don't, other measures will have to be entertained.

Let's think positive though. Yesterday I filled in my Life insurance policy. See below:

I'm feeling confident enough that I wrote to a friend in Kabul and told him I was coming. He's been at it long enough to know that even though I say, and am told, I'm coming,  there ain't no guarantees.

With self-serving interest I've been reading of the recent bomb attacks in Afghanistan. Skipping my sadness at the loss of human life, this is what I'm thinking:
"Hmm, some amount of action/carnage would be great, would make my trip feel "legitimate" but at the same time, if things are too hairy, CEFCOM might pull the plug." What I'm looking for, if I can be completely ruthless, is the right amount of violence.

The outrage you might feel towards me for typing the above is obviously justified, but if nothing else I'm trying to be honest. Segueing into talk of exhibitions, so far I have three venues confirmed for this project and am, accordingly, trying to get a handle on what these shows will look and read like.

If there's one constant in most of my practice it is an attempt to contextualize the gap between markers. Whether it be civvie and soldier or painting and photograph, it is the naming of a void that compels me.

So when I write about seeking the perfect amount of violence, see that such a statement manifesting the gap between what some find terrible and others find sublime.

And finally, I'm having a small going away party. If you've read down this far and can make it, please come out to Magpie in Toronto, Dec. 12 @1900hrs. If possible I'll get the bar to play The Pogues.