Artist's commentary
My Poisoned Chalice, My Mask
I wore a mask so I could fight, sing, and love my nation from the bottom of my heart, just like any other soldier.
But my nation was a capricious one, and like a spoiled child, it toyed with my loyalty.
And this is how I met my end.
It was a cocktail of regret, despair, grief, sweetness and bitterness...and I drank from that poisoned chalice and downed it all.
The instantaneous pain and agony was no more painful than the knowledge that my loyalty was shred to pieces.
If a nation was like a child, I would have raised them sternly like any parent would.
But then again...
A child truly doesn't understand that their parents have their best interest in mind, now do they?