Baker, a sculptor, artist, cartoonist and whatever comes his way, has no cell phone and no computer. He's not political and he won't make any money from the project. He did it because in a visceral way it hit him like a sudden burst of wind - his attempt, at once large and small, to make sense of and to honor the sacrifice people make in battle.
He said when he began, he looked, as usual, for reasons not to do this one. How about, he was asked hypothetically, the notion that many people won't be able to think of it apart from the passions surrounding the war in Iraq?
"My thought processes never went there," he said. "Not one time did that enter my mind. I look for things - aesthetic, personal, artistic, technical - that draw me. What I'm concerned with is my craft and doing this as if it's the last time I'll ever have a chance to."
One thing he loved about the Indian Larry project, he said, was how Desmedt's friends and family came to the site, and then walked it as if touching his spirit in the furrowed fields.
Baker hopes that happens even more this time - no simple answers or message, just a chance for people to silently traverse a country field to pay tribute, to give thanks, to contemplate heroism, to find peace.



