When my son was deployed while serving in the U.S. Air Force this year, war suddenly felt less distant and more personal. It led me to question the seemingly endless cycle of conflict we inherit, normalize, and pass from one generation to the next.

As children, many of us are handed miniature soldiers as toys, rehearsing ideas of battle, victory and survival long before we understand their consequences. As adults, the battlegrounds change, but the casualties remain. We wage wars over land, borders, religion, power and access to resources, but also within our own communities—through poverty, drugs, displacement, violence and the struggle simply to survive.

Fuck War confronts that conditioning. The toy soldiers embedded throughout the work become both symbols of childhood innocence and reminders of the human lives concealed behind the language of conflict.  Beneath the politics, territories and ideologies are always people—and someone is always left carrying the loss.

At its core, the work asks a deceptively simple question: When will enough finally be enough?

And beyond that: Can we imagine a human experience in which war is no longer something we accept as inevitable?