I often think about...

What is the line between ignorance and survival and how do you tread it without dehumanising others?

War does not wait for the week to start.
It doesn’t wait for dark or overcast.

War takes place on warm days,
days that would be perfect lounging on the beach,
tending your garden,
cooking slow meals.

There is no dramatic soundtrack when soldiers come to kill, no drums,
just shouts against the lap of the waves.

They drop bombs on children on lovely mornings when the sky is pink,
maim innocents when the water is warm and inviting,
people scream in terror on Saturdays at 11am,
see their loved ones die brutally on clear days with not a cloud in the sky.

The worst moments of peoples lives, the most terrifying, horrific, fearful moments of their lives, can take place when nature is at its most beautiful. Nature doesn’t dictate the bombs or the soldiers.

Does it scare you?
It scares me constantly.