This is a hard post to write because things have just hit me.
I read this the other day in the G&M. The last name was familiar but I didn't think much more about it.
Well tonight I found out that this young man was the son of a guy I grew up with. I truly don't know what to say. I am hoping to get to the funeral this week.
But it left me wondering. Where is the arts response to this war? I have at least 10 Theatre Creator's Reserve applications for people to deal with their inner angst and personal struggles. Frankly they bore me. When are we, as artists, going to get our heads out of our collective navels and look around the world and have an opinion?
I don't even care if it is an opinion I loathe at least it will be better than seeing how much lint can collect in one place of the human body and then writing endlessly about it.
I yearn for art that has some balls.
R.I.P. Pte Michael Freeman
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