incarcerated artists incarcerated artists at Indiana Women’s Prison
Editors’ Note
We are very thankful to all the artists who contributed to “More Than A Number.” A lot of the women whose work is included in these pages expressed their interest in our zine because of the spirit of sharing. Instead of being judged in competitions, our zine encouraged an open submission policy. We accepted all that was offered to us. It gives us such pleasure to help others express their underlying artistic skills, to showcase the talent that flourishes behind these broken brick walls and fences of IWP. People often are not aware of the depths of others’ hearts and imaginations. It is very important to be able to present all these different works of art. Being incarcerated we are very limited to the exposure of our talents; we are deeply grateful to have this opportunity to share our work and the work of our fellow artists on a bigger scale than we thought possible. This truly has been a blessing. Some of these creations were made from places of pain. Nonetheless, there is a great deal of light that is hidden behind these walls, this light sparks a desire to learn and grow. Our choices and mistakes don’t define who we are. This place can make or break you; it is what you make of it. But just because you’re in prison does not mean you have to be sad all the time. Just because we are incarcerated does not mean that we do not have hope and joy to keep moving forward. We are all more than just numbers. We are mothers. We are women. We are students. We are poets. We are dancers. We are singers. We are designers. We are chefs. We are artists. Inspired by Sarah Haley, who writes about incarcerated women who, “dream of meaningful life so vivid that they transcended bars and borders, altered lifescapes, and created relationships and realities,” art offers us a kind of freedom. Moreover, in the way that Jordan Camp suggests, the works included in “More Than A Number” add to the alternative archive that can help us understand the roots of injustice in our society, reminding us that “alternative outcomes have been and continue to be possible.” Avrie | Kendra | Mia | Michelle | Nzingha | Samantha
>Samantha Angel of Mine Dear daughter of mine I love you more than you know I wish you were here with me All the things you could’ve seen But didn’t get the chance You and I are still a team Everything to me you mean Wonderful little angel you’ve been Forever in my heart You’ll always be No one can take you from me You’re in heaven, I’ve seen Always you were meant to be The lovely little girl I miss Throughout time, you’ll still be That Angel of mine
>Brittany D Whether I’m here or whether I’m there I find myself feeling like Jordin Sparks No Air. A painted on face, so pristine, representing a vessel that only wants to be clean. Just another confused soul with a number and a picture; stuck with a bunk, a few books and some scripture. Surrounded by peons so simple-minded, although they have eyes they’re still so blinded. Outside these walls are the ones we miss, longing only for a hug and a kiss. Lonely, discourages, faded and hollow, Today’s just yesterday’s tomorrow. Sleeping awake, choking on a dream, listening loudly to a silent scream. Call my mind, the number’s unlisted, lost in someone so warped and twisted. 3/18/17
>Anissa
>Amy So You Think You Know Me Don’t You So you think you know me don’t you You think you can see inside me You think you know my secrets Do you think I care if you like me Yeah I know I can’t erase that horrible mistake And no I’ll never forget that day Each day I’m filled with sorrow and regret Knowing now you should give what you want to get Each day I sit and look at what has become of my life Forever offender or felon, instead of mother or wife No little white house, no white picket fence All because of stupidity and lack of common sense I try not to hang my head low but I am ashamed of what I did I was all he had and I let down my kid I should have protected my angels from any harm But I was too busy on my back or with a needle in my arm Now before you go judging or talking your bit Tell me how many times you could take being hit How many “Baby I’m sorry” or “I’m going to kill you” How far could you walk if you were in my shoes? I left my home, my kids, everything I had I thought it was okay leaving them with their dad Call me a chicken because I punked out and ran I didn’t know I left them with a devil dressed as a man I shouldn’t have trusted, that was a given If I had not, my baby might still be living He’d be running, playing, and screaming real loud Doing great in school, making me so proud So I drop to my knees and beg to be forgiven Until that day comes, the real me is hidden
>Tonya C Power of the She Little girls, young ladies, middle aged chicks, funky grey haired grannies each of us full of sass. Tall/ Short/ Skinny/ Curvy & vivacious no boobs/ bam bam boom chest, flat rump on big booty ass. We are bitches cranky, grouchy & always ready for a cat fight. We are lovers sly, kinky, full of sensuality all day & every night. We are children squirted by fathers birthed by mothers but all of us a miracle by God. We are mothers carrying new life in our wombs, stretching out to the max our sexy bod. We are sinners drug dealers, addicts, adulterers, murderers, & thieves, bad girls to the bone. We are saints forgiven for ALL our sins & guaranteed to see the big man upstairs upon his majestic throne. We are dreams dreams of freedom, love & laughter, free inside ourselves while fenced in an IDOC hell. We are beautiful in our own way learning to be comfy outside of our own skill.
We are never to feel embarrassed of how God helps us change each & every day. We are embracing our inspirations, creations & our past for these made us what we are today. Power of the She, She, She, Her, You, & Me! Thanks to all the ladies for helping each other be all we can be!
>Quilting
>Mia N The judge set my date A man-made date And in the back of my mind I could only think About being late… late… late… Late for my nieces being born, late for comfort and care of others Late on missing out on my life, dang I’m missing out on life Digging deep I figure I’d sit back, do my time and that someone would miss me But in the process of my thought process all they did was diss me for an Excuse that I won’t accept because only a fool could pardon the facts of reality See, once you’re out of sight you’re out of mind. Nobody misses you. Nobody thinks about you. Who me? Who you foolin’ Me once --- shame on you, fool me twice well shame on me But is it really? Well if I expect you to be obligated to what’s not pre-destined in your walk to be in my walk How can I realistically mode my face or allow you to control my emotions that don’t belong to you but me. Am I being selfish? Because I expect you to do for me what I would for you? You see I’m late because if I knew better I’d do better, I’d think better, Seems as if I better get a grip or get gripped, Gripped when my only wish is to become equipped with God’s instruction. They say all you need to do is invite him into your heart and ask for forgiveness, But how do you ask for something you don’t feel like you deserve? See I never knew love, peace, joy, and the mercy he had put to the side with my name on it. He said whenever you’re ready, and please don’t rush I’ll always be here So take your time, I’m very patient. But still back there, You know in my mind I thought “What a joke?” What makes him any different? Not yet developed and immature, still thinking with a sinner’s motive
The coast was clear and the door was open, Open for days of self-destruction or open for route of construction You see what sounds good to the ears isn’t always good for the soul And what sparks a twinkle in my eye wasn’t anything I could stomach You see I wanted change, but I didn’t want to change what kind of mess is that? So you mean to tell I can’t have my cake and eat it too? That although I’m free I got to choose? (throws a fit, and pouts) But… But I see people all the time play both sides and nothing happens to them Why am I so different? This internal battle between myself and myself I can’t seem to win for losing I am under circumstances not chosen by me. I am being tested, and find myself underestimating my strength and ability to get through a situation I know is temporary. Being strong feels like a burden I’m carrying or an expectation I just cannot meet? There are days where I feel my circumstances are hopeless and serve no purpose, but difficulties are not caused by others; they are the result of my own previous thoughts and actions which give rise to my future experiences. Things that are here today will be gone tomorrow. And no matter how bad something is I’m constantly reminding myself that it won’t last long, that tough times don’t last people do. One day, yes one day I’ll sit back and reflect on how I made it through. But when is one day? Until then I guess I must humble myself, making the most of what comes and the least that goes. Using what I know to accept responsibility for the harm I’ve caused others and never letting myself forget the things I’ve done using those experiences to help others understand where they lead. Learning to find the blessings in the things you complain about. You see the judge set a date A man-made date and in all just reality I’m not even late I’m right on time.
>Michelle Could She Be Any More Than This? (A Historical Tribute to African-American Women) To clamor in the darkness for ones just due And fight the wrongs and sufferings others imbue To fashion with delicate hands the garments of the world And wave a banner of righteousness, a victory to unfurl To be the light for an unseeing land And explain the dangers of their misguided plan To nurture the seed that ultimately strikes And love a country known for its vicious bites To be the matriarch with the lowest significance And birth a community of growing prominence To be considered nothing, not anything at all And be the foundation, the stud in the wall To love the unlovable, hug the unhuggable And be a mother to nations innumerable To hold it all together, make it stand aright And be the forgotten, the invisible, the sprite To go unthanked, unsung, and unrewarded And be the very cradle where civilization started To excel in the devotion of men who protect us And be their quiet security when times are rough To trail blaze, set the stage, and be the standard And back break, heartache, and endure the slander To be an involuntary receptacle for the fluids of man And experience the birth of a new clan To see the potential, and desire the best And struggle with little, no voice, failed tests To reach out and embrace all with unfailing love And pull back a scathed, scarred, and bloodied nub To let loose, sing her song, rap along, and step in time And be the total embodiment of refinement and design To be everything to everybody white, black, green and brown And expect respect, even where hatred is found To crane the neck aloft with prestige And push the children towards upward mobility To be the champion, and user in a new day And gather the children, on their knees at night to pray Could she be any more than this? Malikia 11/2003
>Amber B Almost This repetitive rhetoric is simplistic, My head is splitting; forget that Speaking technically—my patience is a wreck. But let’s not debate the expectation Of my fate. A simplification, instead, Of my overflowing plate. Outta the gate, I guess, you could Say I was perplexed about the idea Of me not failing. So, derailing became my best bet and yet—here I am, not a complete pile of ash— with a few burning embers underneath an almost fatal crash.
>Samantha
>Cynthia A Who Overstands Broken rights due to being born into Poverty. Twisted truths Reacting from generational curses Unjust commands Stemming from being materialistic Whoever understands Self-worth mixed with lost human rights Everyone has a demand Untrustworthy violations That insecurities can’t withstand Who Overstands
>Michelle W The Message Dear Daughter: this message is for you I know you are sitting here lost and confused Locked behind these walls wondering what’s next for you. The road has been rough and so much has been lost, The scars on your heart are only half the cost. You’ve been beaten, battered broken and repeatedly abused, So many couldn’t even walk a mile in your shoes Your heart’s been torn and trust completely shattered, You’ve lost everyone and everything that mattered. Along the way, you hurt people, too, let them down, Burned some bridges and hopefully learned some lessons, too. My child if you could only see, This is why I gave my son to atone for thee The pain, the suffering, grief and sorrow Look up cuz I promise a better tomorrow. I’ve seen you fall to your knees and heard you cry out to me Now it is time to rebuild your life and walk in victory. For I know the plans I have for you You are loved, chosen, and worthy too You are redeemed, forgiven, the righteousness of Christ There is no more walking in your old life The light of the Lord in you has been restored A life with Christ is your reward Daughter, beloved, child of mine, will you accept a love divine To be set free, to walk with me through this life to eternity? Love, Abba Father
>ReAnna C
>Bobby C I Pray for Angels I pray for Angels to guide and guard you with love and grace. to place kisses, I can’t upon your Face. I pray for Angels to hold you tight to wake you each day with the morning’s light. I pray for Angels to bless your life to give you strength through all your strife. To grant you courage through this thing called life. I pray for Angels to help you through each day while I’m away. To keep you safe until I come home and we will be together, no longer alone.
>Leah What They Said The judge said that we was convicted but they got us twisted Because our sentence doesn’t exclude being gifted They say we are lions And society the sheeps They claim us as predators Who prey on the weak They call us castaways Never described as meek We’ve been investigated, subjected, prodded, and poked We’ve been swabbed, denied jobs, and caught up the most They claim we’ve either sold dope, used dope or just couldn’t cope but Damn..... What about just losing hope? It doesn’t matter our crimes Or if we suffered our time My P.S.I. didn’t even mention I was divine. They don’t ask what’s been done Or what abuse we come from It’s all just speculation Never a courtesy or kind consideration It’s judgment drawn to conclusion It’s all just based on biased intrusion What they don’t see is the reality of their illusion They don’t see that we are overcomers, caring, and roaring mothers That once were broken but now are under construction They don’t know we are warriors And got past our own self destruction They don’t know we are determined to bring our pains, shackled chains, and strains on our brains to an end You see.... These are the women that I call friends What they’ll never know is that behind these walls women stand tall despite the ghosts that haunt us all to fall They’ll never know I sit amongst Presidents, future medical residents Scientists, who will discover the cure for cancer I sit amongst praise dancers Women who aren’t selfish, that when they find the cure t hey’ll end the suffering and raise people to endure I sit amongst Muslims, Christians, Hindus, and Wiccans I sit amongst queens
Who are too complicated to be disrespected Because the world is too caught up in their ignorance Never taking the chance Or the thought to grasp That we live for perseverance So when they think we just sit and waste inside this prison They’re wrong Because our survival is strong That our determination is long And if they look hard enough or wait to see In each of us we are already free
>Quilting
>Brenda Damaged We are all damaged or we wouldn’t be here. You may not admit it but to me it is clear. So please take this time to heal what is wrong You have been hurt so deeply and it has lasted too long The judge made the sentence but God let it be Please use this time wisely, I hope you will see We bury it deep and think it won’t show But its roots are internal and eventually grow It started as a weed but now becomes a tree Its nutrients are bitterness, hate, and misery Just try for once, take that chip off your shoulder I’ve carried it years and just become older. If you look in my eyes we are much the same Except I’ve decided my demons to tame I replaced that chip on my shoulder to my heart on my sleeve I’m breaking the chains my heart feels relief How many times have you been here, my friend? If you don’t fix what’s broken, the cycle won’t end.
>Emily B The Fray In the dead of night, it comes like a thief Bones aching, body shaking, I crawl beneath sweat-soaked sheets. Trying to hide from myself, my disease. Its constant reminder in every breath that I breathe I’ve become something I no longer recognize These hands, this face, these lips aren’t mine The green and gold of once vibrant eyes Hide behind shadows under overcast skies What has become of that small, innocent child With her features soft and her manners so mild I look deep down desperately trying to find The me I used to be before the world got inside And the search becomes a journey, the journey becomes my quest Until I fulfill my purpose I won’t stop, I won’t rest It’s not about forgetting it’s about trying my best To learn from what life decides to hand me next. I refuse to accept that this is the end I’ve got too much to fix, relationships to mend Life, for me, is just starting to begin My newfound strength has come from within So today I step into the great unknown With my father beside me I’m no longer alone From behind these walls the world will be shown Just exactly how much I’ve grown I embrace my future with arms open wide Behind drawn shades I no longer hide It doesn’t matter how many tears I’ve cried And it’s not about failures, what matters Is I’ve tried I’ve placed all my hope and trust in Jesus Christ So how can I lose if I’ve got God on my side?
>Amber B Rehabilitation Humiliation No words to describe it but here I sit – Gritting my teeth I fear, underneath, I’m not quite built for this kind…of life learning to rewind the year trying to find – the knife to the wounds, that wound me up in here… Astounding Atmospheres Surround my eyes & ears that pierce my now-doubting mind Is the time gonna do me? Instead of the other way around? Profound is my shame – I’m to blame, Hands down
>Cosmetology
by Kelsey, LaRitha, Tiara
>Lisa V Beauty is Heart Deep What is a perfect body? I look down and see a scar where my breast used to be. I fear being stared at, different, unsexy, I want to hide under a cocoon until I can get surgery to make me worthy of love again. But then I sit and contemplate. Shut out the conversations, opinions, and fears. I am beautiful. To the core. Every moment in pain that wasn’t managed every doctor appointment and chemo in shackles and chains, the strength to go on every second (I could only do second by second). Waking up in pain, in chains, without the breast that I fed my children from. Grief and anger but somehow grace. Am I going to die and how have I lived my life… I’m D&J’s mom, the chains disappear. I learned who I am and love what I found. I’ve lived my dreams. My happy place is violin concertos and Coldplay. I don’t need a man or woman to validate me. Bald and green, puking and weak, great body or not, breast cancer revealed I’m beautiful. My scar symbolizes the strength, the pain… The beauty in a scar is amazing. Yeah it’s awkward but it’s also beautiful.
>Char’Dae You Can’t Tell Me You can’t tell me that you’re better than me because you wear a badge. You can’t tell me that I should change the color of my skin because of the kind of day you had This year it has been 68 police officers and 100 or so citizens killed So please don’t argue the fact that America needs to be healed You can’t tell me that his or her life is more valuable because they’re supposed to protect us When they kill us during a traffic stop tell me who can we trust Now you may never understand because your skin has no color There is no way any family should have to lose another black brother You can’t tell me that when I walk the streets I should feel protected by you You can’t tell me that you would feel safe if you walked in just one of my shoes You can’t tell me that you don’t understand the rage that I must feel when I pick up this pistol and I bust to kill Aiming straight for the heart I thought I told you I’d finish what you start You can’t tell me that if I fight violence with violence I’ll win
But what you can tell me is, where did it all begin You can’t tell me that this life is meant to be You can’t tell me that this gun violence should be our destiny My solution to you not only love but a voice that speaks over your gunfire Because I’ll love you even when blood is my whole at fire.
>Samantha
>Mary R Why I cry??? December 12, 2008 Why I cry??? Damn that’s a good question. To keep it real I don’t even think I cry for me. I cry sooooo much for my mother who has been dead for the past 3 yrs now, but yet I cry for her. I cry for her because she never knew how much her baby girl loved her before she died… at least I don’t believe she knew. I cry because she was the best mother God put on this earth. The world’s greatest mother, sister, auntie, niece, and friend. I cry so much at night because I’ll always long for this lady’s touch and kiss. I cry because I know that even though she never told me I disappointed her I know I did. I cry because all she ever wanted for me was the best but I guess I wanted something else. I cry because she raised me the best way she knew how, but I still did not appreciate her. I cry so much more because she never had a real good man before she died, so she never got to enjoy his love he had for her. I cry because she’s finally resting in peace somewhere she needs to be instead of living in this fucked up world. I cry because I miss her so damn much and some days I don’t believe she’s really gone. I miss her bad. I cry because I want to be loved the way my mother loved me and I loved her. I cry because I know deep down inside I’ll never find that love. I cry because is this penitentiary the end for me??? I cry because I put all this pain on myself and no matter how much I want to blame someone else for my mistakes I can only blame me. Why I cry??? The night is March 13, 2009. Friday the 13th. Since the age of 13 my luck in life has been hell. I can’t win at life as I write this down on paper I cry, I cry because my life has never been shit. Too dumb to learn because my attention span is so short. My sisters and my brothers half liked me and to this very day I’m still trying to figure out – why not. Every time I looked up I was fighting, because I wanted to be loved by someone. At the age of 16, is when I decided I wanted a baby. I tried for almost 3 yrs before I gave up. All I wanted was to be loved by someone and I knew that a kid would always love and respect their mother. Friend after friend I had, but just life friend after friend it was burn after burn. Everyone only seem to love themselves. No one has loyalty who can you trust? No matter what people would say about my mother would love
me unconditionally, she was the only one who did. So at the age of 20 I made the most horrible mistake I could’ve ever made. I shot and killed a man. It was the worst thing I could’ve ever done. Time after time I’ve messed up, but this time it was big. There was no turning back for me the damage was done. At this point I hated myself. I wanted to cut off my hands run and hide I was too hurt and ashamed of what I had done. Then once I was incarcerated 49 days later my mother passed away in her sleep. I blamed myself day and night for her death. At first I thought because of my case the stress killed her, but then I put two and two together and made it up in my mind that because I took a life God took a life from me. The only one who’s every loved me unconditionally. Sometimes I can’t stand to be in my own skin… This isn’t half of why I cry. You still wanna know? September 11, 2011 Why I cry??? Some days I wish I could go inside of one big ass shell and rot to death, because I’m tired of feeling sad, stressed out, and all alone. It’s so hard for me at times to find peace in my own mind. I’m sad, just sad and the sick part about it is, I could cry for days. Every time I think for just one second my life is getting better someone jumps up and let me know that it’s not. I wish it was true the saying that everyone says, “If you ask God something just wait and he’ll do it.” Because it’s not true – for the last months I’ve been asking God to take my life, because things are becoming too much for me to handle, but my prayers are always unanswered. I guess I must be someone he really likes, huh? What really gets me is his son Jesus was hated by soooooo many people and he claimed to have felt his son’s pain, well then why allow someone you love to go through some of the worst pain? Ugh… I’m sooooo BROKEN, I don’t understand how can anyone make sense of me. I hate myself, I want too much out of people when they are just as broken as I am. All I do is cry, cry, and cry some more. Nothing ever seems to get better, shit just seems to be okay, but NEVER better. I hate it when I cry because I can’t breathe but I’m so fucking emotional and that’s all I know how to do. Still Want To Know?
>Lisa K Time Flies By Tic Toc Tater Tot Mamma’s little man sitting in his little red chair labeled “Tots Spot.” They say if you want to see how fast time goes…watch your kids and see how fast they grow! Tic Toc watch the hands on the grandfather clock My little Tot now too big to sit in his spot Won’t you look at the clock Watch the pendulum swing What joy my son brings. Now he’s so big he is building his own clocks. I’m watching time fly by while sitting in a prison cell, for how long only time will tell. Time flies by out there you see. My son was only 11 now 17, do you see what I mean? He now has big man arms, no longer little spaghetti strings. To my heart, so much pain this brings! I can’t tell him these things! I just say keep on moving along son. It won’t be long, I will be home and we will no longer be using the phone! See Mom got this prison sentence and I know to your heard my son much pain this brings! It is very hard for me to talk about these sorts of things! So son let’s talk about the Power of a sentence! Did I mention that this is a very loaded sentence? Being as it is, it can mean several things! But to me it is 2 things. 1) is what words can do to you or me. 2) is the prisonsentence of 40 to 20 years that has been served to me. Either way…this “sentence” to me is very disturbing! These are both really heavy things! People don’t even realize what kind of impact it is, that any of these words bring! Do you ever stop to think about the words that you are delivering? And the thoughts or feelings it is that “words” create or bring? The power of any “sentence,” which one? The words that I am saying to you or the one I am living out in a prison cell? Torn and conflicted, I’m living life restricted in a couple of ways you see…
I can’t say the things that need to be said. I am expected to live in here as if I were dead. I believe for now enough has been said. For My Son Gavin
>Lisa Good-Bye Good-bye is a second chance Good–bye makes all the old things new But saying good–bye is the hardest thing to do. Life is hard. Life is unfair. Life takes everything you hold dear. The world knows your worst fear. What do you do when the world comes at you like a sawed off shotgun? You could cry. You could fight. You could run. But the simplest thing to do is say good–bye. What is wrong with good–bye? Some would say it is final. Some would say it’s a coward’s way out. But I think it’s a second chance. Everyone deserves a second chance. Why doesn’t it apply to me? I know, I have done too much, caused too much pain and grief. I get to suffer for the rest of my life. The world says that is fair. I think they, the world, should walk in my shoes, live my life, fight my demons, see why I made those choices then tell me why. Guess what world, here is my answer. Listen closely because I am only saying this once… AIM! PULL! FIRE! Good–bye!!!
>Samantha L
>April M
>Heather A
>Lifted! Lifted! evolved from the Sky’s the Limit (STL) youthful offender dance troupe. Started in 1999, STL was the first dance ministry at IWP. Organized through Religious Services and peer-facilitated by Michelle J, it ran until 2005, when youthful offender programming ended. Lifted! Liturgical Dance was established to expand dance ministry to the entire population. Organized in 2006, and officially named in 2008, Lifted! has continued to spread the message of God’s love for over 9 years. Over 70 women have counted membership in Lifted! as a part of their spiritual journeys.
>Laura C
singer, minister in Lifted!
I’ve always been one to adapt well under any circumstance, but incarceration is in a different category. Prison to me is not being able to see or be with my family. I had been blessed to tackle most of the other aspects of prison in all my other years, until my health started to fail. I had a tumor/goiter in my neck which grew for 10 years. It grew tentacles and wrapped around the arteries of my heart, encompassed and destroyed my thyroid, and was millimeters from my spine. I couldn’t lay down or sleep because it cut my breathing off. Even though it was an 8 or 9 lb. tumor affecting even my physical appearance, I was skeptical about surgery because I am a singer. I live to sing. I sing to talk to God. I sing to live. The surgeon said there was a chance my vocal cords would be ruined. I prayed and trusted God and went ahead with the surgery. When I woke up, I tried to sing one of my favorite gospel songs and nothing came out. I had been taken to another prison because after my surgery they found thyroid cancer in my body. Not only did I have an ugly blood clot across my throat, I also had no voice and no one to comfort me. That’s when I had to call on God. This surgery had even affected my speaking voice. I prayed to God that if He would just use me and give me His voice to bless others through singing, I would be okay with my high “smurfette” voice! I trusted God and every day He has restored me. Recently He has been really using me with His voice and it has given me my hope back. Not even a year after my cancer, I had a total hip replacement because my hip had been broken for 10 years. I lost over 200 lbs. and ran and worked out every day. During surgery my blood pressure dropped, I lost so much blood that they had to give me 4 blood transfusions, they lost my heart-rate and then I woke up feeling my leg being cut open. But I made it. They told me I’d never run again but I run 2 times a week and it hasn’t even been a year. I minister in dance and I was ministering a month after my surgery. The darkness tried to take everything I loved and but God kept me. He is restoring me every day and renewing hope in me. It has not been easy, and I have failed in other parts of my life, but I know God is with me, Always.
>Anastazia Mix Master Sir-Viv-Her I am so much more than what I’ve done to me – Fight or flee, myself or thee? I’m a Sir-Viv-HER Girl Mix Master genie in a bottle – shake it up – Spinnin’ vibes and spittin’ game – risin’ up – livin’ up to my name – Re-sur-rec-tion - through injection, projection – screamin’ Love transcending rejection – E-jec-tion button – removing hate – never too late – Move beyond the mental masturbaaaaa-tion – over cum – emotional masochism makin’ me numb – no feel for what’s no longer real – So he’s the deal Sign & seal – I’m the Master of my fate – all powerful dynamic duo super hero great – Survived, I’m still alive – playin’ this soul mu-sick mix a drink – toast this glass – I’ve survived me kickin’ ass! Master mixologist – makin’ lemonade outta piss – the Master DJ in this mix of Life – groovin’ through pain & strife – stripped, torn & shattered – re-glued, reborn – Born to be wild – take a taste – a little sweet extra spicy never mild – precocious child – far too smart for her own good – alien scholar in this ‘hood-winked & bamboozled – Booze-led – Tippin’ back the bottle – goin’ full throttle – AK-47 & a pen anarchist super model – role model inmate – prison playmate – playin’ cops with cuffs for a whole different reason – Ended season – too late, last call – pub crawl hazy – double dippin’ double life livin’ crazy-horse warpath – battered rape survivor rath – dine & dash – after smokin’ way too much hash – bustin’ out cold hard cash – Smack & smash – bloody face train wreck crash-- & burn – engulfed in flames – light it up – soul fire – so much rage & fierce desire – hangin’ on electric needle live wire – Wired for sound – no longer bound – merry go round & round & round… addiction & affliction – never lost, only found – pound sign –
Sign, sealed, delivered – Deliver me from evil – E-VILLE – XTC Boulevard – house party in the yard – scarred from cigarette burned, broken bottle self-inflicted carve – SUICIDE – bleedin’ poetry – killin’ it in spoken word genocide – EX-PLO-DEAD – Rubbed right outta lamp – CHAMP-ion – Mix Master Life Sir-VivHER – beautiful disaster-zone – totally blown – out the water, off the charts – needles & darts --& I’m way too smart, to miss the mark – Spark it up & play me a song – don’t ya know I can dance all night – bong hit #1 – come on & sing Pump up the octave keys – kilo – Key West – Key Largo – keyed up – Get up & leave – nose bleed – I’ve survived way to much heat & this beat – It’s over – O.D.ed – O-V-Over & out – Raise the Dead Head Mix Master Sir-Viv-HER – lemme hear ya shout – “I’ve won, I’m free!” – cuz baby, I’m so much more than what’s been done to me….
Biographies Amber
| Amber B. of New Albany was born April 29, 1983, is a mother of a 13 year old daughter named Justice Nevaeh. She is a singer, song writer, poet, guitar player, and photographer. Life inspires my creativity... all blessings, all the little bumps in the road, & even the disasters… Music is my passion. Helping others along their path- is my purpose and my proudest creation is my beautiful angel. I believe unconditional love is the root of everything….or at least it should be…
Anissa
| I have been incarcerated for 11 years. Art has been my passion for years. I love to paint scenery of the different seasons, as well as portraits. I just taught myself how to draw with pencil doing portraits and other things. Since my incarceration art is relaxing and stress free. I love to just draw in my free time, sometimes I will draw for Black History month and other holidays for the prison. The art work that I have done for this project is of an ICAN dog named Truman. I have done a lot of art work for ICAN, paintings of dogs for ICAN’s fundraiser and for Decade of Dogs. Art is my passion. Thank you for letting me share.
April M | My name is April and I have been drawing for about three
years. I took a six-week art class that opened up a completely new world for me! What a discovery! I am a portrait artist and my favorite is drawing for my daughters, Riley, Regan and Faith. Riley collects monkeys and apes, so I really enjoyed creating these soulful creatures for her. I am sure she will share. Enjoy!
Bobby C | Hi, my name is Bobbie, I have written this for my mother Penney. I’m 41 and a mother of 4. I am growing each day to become a better me. I love to help people and make them smile.
Brianna P | I’m a mother of two beautiful children, although my
son passed away tragically. When I was home I worked three jobs: subbing at school, selling windows, and waitressing at a Mexican restaurant. I had plenty of jobs before that, I worked as a cashier at a grocery store and a hard-ware store. I sold insurance. I restored furniture. I worked in a nursing home as an activity assistant and I also did home health care. I have an Associate’s degree in
Occupation Therapy. I’m here and ready to learn as much as I can. I’m the only daughter and I have one brother. I love to learn. Since I’ve been here I’ve been an MMA (Medical Management Aid), which includes wheelchair pushing. I was a day/night shift dorm porter. I’ve been in several classes: math, reading, and creative expressions. Also in groups such as: Damaged Emotions, Catholicism, Yoga, and Work-out. I’ve also completed self-helps. My main goal is to get home to my daughter and not miss any more time with here than I have to. I’m planning on participating in many time cut programs, such as HouseKeeping DOL, which I’m currently in. Hoping for the best possible experience I can have since I’m already here. I’m also attending Catholic Mass every Sunday that I can.
Cynthia A
| Cynthia understands better than most. For the last fifteen years I’ve learned to reintroduce myself to myself. It’s been hard coming out of a young mind set being in a restricted, dehumanizing environment. I started out my incarceration young, uneducated, with a whole lot of kids, but one thing for certain my spirit has always been strong. I’ve fought to own the ability to have agendas and complete them. I’ve adapted to the thinking, thinking that anything I touch I want to leave it better than what I found it. Cosmetology is one of my passions, it gives me that feeling of helping. It’s almost like I’m a therapist behind the chair. My ultimate goal in this field isn’t just to do hair, but to become a hair care specialist. So far it is working in my favor. I have great culinary skills and that’s a feeling that I can embrace to start a small business. Cooking gives me a feeling of love and everyone loves to love. My point on writing this piece is to share with you readers that even through a storm you can find peace. By resting on the fact that everything happens with reason. All we must do is not let defeat control our mindful thinking. Ink and paper has been the most therapeutic therapy that comes without a restriction. A lot of times I’d rather write than speak. Attached to these are pictures and a poem that I hope you feel love coming off of these. Love is a common ground no matter our circumstance. One Love.
Emily B | My name is Emily B and I am 28 years old. I was born
and raised in Logansport, IN. For the past 8 years I have worked as a surgical technologist in the Indianapolis area. My battle with substance abuse and my faith in Jesus Christ inspires my creativity.
Kelsey W
| My name is Kelsey W. I am 25 years of age and I live in Evansville, Indiana. I am a licensed cosmetologist. I received my license through Ms. Shawheta Horton, at Westside Cosmetology School. Being a hair care specialist is more than a job for me, it’s a way of life. Doing hair and helping others feel better about themselves is my passion in life. Just seeing the joy I bring to others through my creations, keeps me motivated to continue to learn the newest trends and deliver them with originality to each and every one of my guests.
LaRitha
| Merriam-Webster’s definition of a cosmetologist is one who gives beauty treatments. My definition is one who takes what God has already master-pieced and just refines it. Beauty is seen in so many ways, it’s truly in the eyes of the beholder. I’ve worked in several different fields and wasn’t happy with where I was. It wasn’t until I ended up in the Indiana Women’s Prison as an offender that I found my true calling. I graduated from Westside Beauty School with a 91% passing rate. I am currently enrolled in the instructor’s course. I enjoy enhancing people’s beauty by my styling, makeup, and/or chemically altering their hair or just haircuts. I am not taught one racial type of hair. I’m taught “hair”. I had an excellent educator, Ms. Shawneta Horton. She helped me discover my passion. Through her knowledge and professionalism, I have the tools and information that’s needed so I can be on the scene in a world that’s constantly revolving. So look for me in a salon near you…I’ll be coming soon.
Lisa K | When Gavin came to see me one day, I had reached over
to grab his arm. Tight then, I realized just how big my baby boy had come to be and just how fast time had just flew by! Since I am locked up, I have only time to think and no choice but to wait out the time/sentence that I have to do. This is my way of telling my son just how much he is loved! I can’t wait to come home and make new memories with my son and our family. Gavin has turned out to be a very good young man and I am so very proud of him! I wrote this while I was enrolled in a writing class that was actually called “Power of a Sentence.” My boy is now 19 years old and I’m still waiting to come home.
Lisa V | I am 31, diagnosed with aggressive stage 3 breast cancer
at 28. I am in cosmetology, loving it. I have talented well-mannered funny sons DeAndre and Jayden. I have been through a wide variety of life changing circumstances. My mission is to help
other women understand they’re not alone. I love writing, reading, drawing, crafts, singing, piano, and painting.
Mary R
| My name is Mary, I’m 32 years old. I’m a Leo. I’ve been incarcerated for almost 12 years now. I’m a people person, I love kids. One day I would love to have 3 of my own. I have a little over 5 more years to serve. In my spare time I enjoy writing. It takes me to a place far away. My favorite color is purple. I love dogs. I’m also a dog trainer.
Michelle
| Michelle is a peer facilitator and choreographer of the liturgical praise dance ensemble, Lifted! and a vocalist in the ensemble and prison choir. She was one of the original members of the One Net-One Life Mosquito Net Project, a prison-based community outreach program that manufactures mosquito nets free-of-charge for communities battling malaria throughout Africa and South America. She is an artist of the visual, literary and performing arts and seeks her artistry with her academic pursuits.
ReAnna C | My name is ReAnna C; I am 33 from Greenfield IN. I
believe my sobriety motivates me more than anything with my art does. The further I went into my addiction the further away I went from the arts. I am happy to say that today I dance, sing, write and draw again. My addiction does not run my life anymore, and I am well on my way to find who I truly am. Thank you for letting me share and hopefully inspire.
Rochelle G | I have crocheted for Community Outreach for about
four or five years. I have made scarves and hats for the homeless, Teacher’s Treasures, and other organizations. For the most part of my life I hurt others and really wasn’t a good person. Being able to give back to my community I feel as if some of the bad things I have done have been forgiven. I do not get paid for what I do, however God has blessed me in several areas of my life. For example, my oldest son and I have been reunited. I haven’t seen him since he was seven years old, and I lost my parental rights. So it has been 13 years since last time I saw him. He is 21 years old, and I have a granddaughter.
Samantha
| My name is Samantha, I am mother of 4, 1 girl, identical twin boys, and another boy. I have been able to draw and paint since I was a toddler and I got more skills the older I got. My biological father taught me how to draw and paint (I prefer to oil paint more than anything). I learned how to crochet on the inside of these fences and have learned to make anything you can possibly think of. I have always written poetry and song lyrics. I am also a cosmetologist, and when I was younger I was a dancer, a cheerleader, and loved to play softball, (now I love volleyball). I love to hunt, fish, be out in the woods, and listen to music. But most of all I love my children, grandma, brothers, and mom. Family is the most important thing to me. They inspire me to do all these things I do. My daughter passed away in 2012 and the poem along with the drawing and blanket are a tribute to her.
Samantha L | I’ve always loved the more creative side of life. My
mother is a very talented artist and I will never be able to produce the level of art she reveals. I still love to try. I hope it’s something that my kids pick up as well.
Tiara
| My name is Tiara S, I’m 24 years old and I’m in training to become a licensed hair care specialist. Being at Westside Cosmetology has given me life lessons and skills that I know I wouldn’t receive at any other school. I’m able to use all my training in my field and outside of it. There’s a sense of deep gratification and accomplishment when I finish up with a guest and they have pure joy on their face. I absolutely love being in this field. I know that when I’m released from IWP I’ll be able to provide a good life for me and my family and I have Westside Cosmetology and Ms. Shawneta Horton to thank for all of it.
Tonya | My name is Tonya C and I am a 45-year-old free spirit. A
group called “Power of a Sentence” is what brought me out of my shell and got me to writing again. I have 3 children, 1 grandson & 2 granddogs. I am a peace seeking, mud loving, tree hugging hippy soul who loves all things.