In 1965, ten years before I was born, my father faked his death in a scuba diving accident on the north coast of Wales, in order to abscond from the British Royal Air Force and fly helicopters for clandestine CIA operations in the Congo. He left behind a wife, two daughters, parents, and siblings in pursuit of something numinous that has become clouded by time and narrative. Heroism? Indispensability? Running from, or running towards? This is a video that I made with producer Jodi Darby, reenacting the morning of his fateful departure. If you want to read more about my father and his story, there’s a book (unfortunately only at Amazon), or you could read the artist statement from my show at PNCA in November of 2014 here.