For some reason, I think my mother's illness and old age, I needed to go up to my old Massachusetts home. This was 16 years ago in April, and the Iraqi War was raging. Night after night we were shown scenes of bombings and battles and flaring lights and, by day, the Iraqi's looting and destroying their country. We Americans watched as a mob of Iraqi's (with our help) pulled down the bronze statue of the tyrant Saddam Hussein. They would welcome us with open arms and dances of joy, said our leaders. The Iraqi's kept on looting and vandalizing, and the officials said they were just "letting off some steam." Saddam himself was on the run and we would find him and bring him to justice. There was justice in the world in those days, and we were thrilled as the jets flew and the fires burned.
The TV with the statue removal is in the rear, the endlessly blatting flickering TV that was on all the time and which I couldn't turn away from. "Goodbye Saddam" it says. In front is a large round table which was in the center of the living room and was completely covered with dusty knick-knacks. No house cleaning had gone on for years and there was at least one mouse in the house, actually a lot more than one.
Black tech pen on sketchbook page, 7 1/2" x 4 1/2", April 9, 2003.