Art Saved My Life in Maximum Security

I spent a total of 13 years of my life going in and out of prison because I always took short cuts. It wasn’t until I was sent to a maximum-security prison that my whole world came crashing down on me. With over two stabbings a week and a murder a month in this particular prison, I was slowly losing myself to the violence of prison politics. There were so many gang wars and race riots that the prison would lockdown for months at a time and I missed three summers in a row.

As a young boy, I use to love to draw but gave up the passion as I grew up. It was a peculiar nudge within me that brought me back to art in prison. While on lockdown, we could not come out of our cell except to shower three times a week, so in this time of silence, while all the inmates were sharpening their knives, I chose to draw.

At first, my brain could only handle about 30 minutes a day, but as time went on that time increased until I found myself drawing for eight hours a day. The weeks turned into months and at certain points in my sentence I was drawing 10 hours a day and even a few times I was drawing 15 hours a day. I began to fall in love not only with the art I was producing, but especially with the process itself. All my life, I’d never worked for anything and instead took short cuts. Whether it was with money, grades, or even my delusional viewpoints of success, I never worked for it. But through my art, I began to understand that if one skips the process of working for what they truly want in life there is no room for growth.

As I sat in my cell, day after day, working on my art I noticed something very beautiful. All the art I would do one month that I felt was amazing, six months later when I looked back at it, I began to notice so many errors. This cycle would repeat over and over again, and I absolutely appreciated these moments, because what was happening was I had surpassed my original skill set. When one creates art, they do it to the best of their ability with the skill set they have in the moment. If they could see their errors then, of course, they would fix them, but the problem is they can’t. They hold the art up and nod approvingly knowing that it’s the best work they ever produced. But, if this same artist continues to practice every day at art, it won’t be but a few months before their skills advance and they look back at their old work and realize that in fact it wasn’t as amazing as they thought.

Consistent effort day in and day out produces growth and results. Two years later, I was named one of the best artists on the compound and was even requested by the prison to paint a mural. When inmates would come into my cell, they would see art everywhere, and they would always say the same thing to me every time, “You have a natural gift, I wish I could do that.” Thank you was always the answer but in my heart, I just want to tell them, “Oh, but you can.” Only I know how many hours I put in, how many art books I read, how many references I studied, how many sketches I practiced, in order to get to the place to produce those results.

As my art progressed, it soon became an outlet. I no longer drew for the sake of art, but instead I would pour out my journey, my pain, my failures, and outlet them through my pencil onto the paper. The truth about all prisoners is that we are in pain, but I chose not to project my pain through violence but instead through art. The simple choice to draw saved my life in that maximum-security prison. It taught me that hard and honest work pays off. No matter what I pursue now in life I always remember to work consistently and honestly, and when difficult emotions arise, I know there are healthier options for an outlet. I can look at any of my drawings hanging in my house right now and remember the years of practice, pain, and patience it took to get there, and nobody can ever take that away from me, and that my friend, is a very beautiful feeling.

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