Inside Knowledge Exhibition

Watercolor
10”x14”
A woman sitting in a prison library.

Bio:
I'm a novice painter, less than 4 years. I have lived in Panama, Maisal Islands, Hawaii and a small farm in Kansas. I'm an acupuncturist, and old, 77. Still love life and love to paint.

Acrylic on cotton tee shirt bought at prison commissary
19"x23"
Access to information fuels an agile imagination. An agile imagination can conceive more solutions. More solutions produce greater hope and hope is the foundation for change. I know institutionalization can be educated out of a person—but you need books and information to have the dreams about change.

Bio:
I maintain my assertion of innocence per my conviction. In the meantime I make convincing one-sided arguments with art.

Acrylic, pen & sharpie on canvas
12”x36”
Colorful Fish in a Sea of Books

Bio: 
Prison is like being a small fish in a sea of sharks. Books and art are all that keep you sane in a system that is insane. Books and art are also the 2 things here that are the least funded and accessible.

Oil and gouache on canvas board 
16”x20” 
This writing would not be possible without books in a prison. 
I was arrested at 18 and sentenced to death at 19 while my brain was still developing and thirsty for information. Despite my troubles leading to the tragic loss of the lives of two of my community members, I was and remain curious about life. I wanted to understand how it worked and know where my place in it was. But at the time, I was confused and rather bookless, having dropped out after school became unbearable. Yet when I found myself at the age of 20, thrust into the man-made sensory and information desert that Texas death row is, my thirst for knowledge didn't abate but became acute. I desperately needed to understand how my life in a cage, under sentence of death, could be possible when I (along with many in my community) didn't see me as a rabid human suitable only for euthanasia. I wanted to articulate this outrage and tell the country the truth about me: I was a lost kid who they could find if only they looked for me in my eyes and not in wild-eyed caricatures conjured by the prosecution. So when a fellow condemned brother gave me a beat up dictionary, missing many pages, I read it daily, studying words I'd never known and discovering in them ideas that began to help me give shape to my thoughts and resonance to my feelings. And then to craft a map for the public away from the frightening caricatures I'd been made out of—to the truth at the heart of my humanity. 

And that, along with books like Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, is how this writing is possible. Now, if I make it to August this year, I'll be 43. It'll be my 24th birthday in solitary. For all these years, some form of reading material has been a key source of my education in a place where I'm seen as a waste to educate. Why? Because why educate when the plan is to execute goes against my state's sad logic. Of course, books have also been therapeutic and pleasure portals out of this place for brief periods. Think erotic anthologies. But most memorable is the autumn of 2009, when my friend Reggie was executed. During those terrifying, cold, and what felt like friendless months, I took up residence in Tolkien's Middle Earth, making friends with Frodo and Gandalf the Gray. And by night, Jung helped me make constructive meaning of the drama of my dreams. Months prior, in adjacent recreation cages, Reggie had given me my first yoga instructions and then loaned me his copy of The Yoga Bible, a compilation of yoga poses that I'd practice in my cell. And still do. No such books were to be found in the prison's library. Nor were the books by S.N. Goenka sent to me by a friend who'd attended a 10-Vipassana retreat in 2016, a time when the sanity threads that held the already tottering world together seemed to be fraying. The books she had the resources to order and have shipped to me were what I based my learning of the ancient method of Vipassana on at that trying time of guards giving Nazi salutes. 

In the years since, staffing shortages have swept across the Great American Carceralverse, leaving many in prison stranded in deeper levels of hell for not being allowed out for recreation time. As of this writing (the last week of May 2024), I have only been allowed five days out of the cell, at two hours a day, for the entire month of May. The lack of fresh air and exercise has impacted my mental health. For all these decades, I've never suffered suicidal ideation until the COVID era. 

However, one of the tools that helps me discern skillful from unskillful thoughts (in this case, those that will help me to my 43rd year from those that won't) is my Buddhist practice, which sits on a daily Vipassana meditation practice. 

This painting, Concrete Crucifix, attempts to dramatize the excruciating psychological anguish of being held in a concrete box for any length of time, let alone two decades plus. The painting also strives to communicate the daily triumph over that suffering in part by standing-- equanimously --on my Buddhist practice. A practice that wouldn't be possible without books in prison.

Bio:
I'm a mixed-media artist rooted primarily in the longevity and vibrancy of oil paint as a resistance to existential threats that have long dogged my life. I work with large and small format paintings that depict the concrete and steel philosophical infrastructure of the criminal legal system as it captures and aspires to extinguish life from the margins. The often rough treatment in the development of my deeply autobiographical earthy figures are their testimonies against and in defiance of the violent obscurity of the prison and death chamber. Simply put: my figures have clawed their way into view.” 

A desperation for life, to be seen and rallied behind are the chief causes for my work. 

The death penalty, and prison as we know it today, is a collective trauma response in the American unconscious. I illuminate and seek to critique these dim regions with works like No-Touch Torture and My African-American Stuck Dream. And as a smelling salt dissenting the unconscious trauma response, such works as Underground Scholar, Get Up Stand Up and Friday Afternoon wake us up to the will to live, love and create--all qualities of human dignity which exist in the barren and decaying solitary cell with me. A cell which I conceptualize as a historical site in a future where human rights are truly affirmed. I also often deploy themes and iconography from my Buddhist practice to dramatize the literal survival work of my figures. 

Although my painting finds familiarity in the cannon aside the legacy of resistance art exemplified by South African artists who fought to end apartheid, I'm always looking toward someone like Ai Weiwei and asking myself how to can I provoke and perhaps activate empathy in a wider audience. For this reason my efforts in film making and teaching alongside university professors allow me an opportunity to explore the creativity of social interactions between someone like me who has been largely silenced by the muzzle of a death sentence and a public still yet with the power of their voice. I operate from the understanding explained by Angela Y. Davis that art can "begin to make us feel what we don't necessarily understand." 

Ultimately my work aspires to speak with the conviction of the Great American Orators of Abolition and Desegregation. And it is executed with the urgency of contemporary movements demanding a new imagining of justice.

Watercolor
15”x20”
When the physical is confined, immersing in the pursuit of knowledge can take you places even the physical hasn't endeavored to reach.

Bio:
Would like to thank JAC for the privilege of being seen by our future. Please check out my coloring books now on Amazon, "Medusagram", a coloring book to unleash the beauty within the serpent's eyes.

Graphite and pen on paper
18”x24”
Library is one of two drops of happiness in my miserable existence on death row. I wish it will be better than it is, as well as more often accessible for inmates on federal death row.

Bio:
I am a Lithuanian citizen under a sentence of death for crimes I did not commit as the result of an unfair trial replete with false testimony and misleading arguments. My case is currently on appeal. I am the only citizen of any European Union nation to be on U.S. federal death row. 

Prior to my incarceration, I was a musician; I played in a few bands as a drummer. But, once behind bars, I had to find an alternative for my creativity, so I took up drawing and painting. I would be mentally starving without an outlet for my artistry. It is my art that keeps me grounded and sane. 

It is difficult to say from where I draw my inspiration when I draw or paint. I live all day long in a 7-foot wide by 10-foot long prison cell. My window is frosted over so that, although I can tell when the sun rises and sets, I am unable to actually gaze upon these natural events. By and large, my only interaction with the outside world comes by way of a small television. Still, while my physical world is limited, my mental world has no borders or walls. 

I never know from month to month what types of art supplies I will be able to obtain. Since 2015, there has been a 30% mark-up on the arts supplies available for purchase, and the prices increase each year. What I am able to purchase one time, I may not be able to purchase the next. Both the lack of materials and uncertainty affect the art I create. 

Most often, the medium I employ is graphite and colored pencils because they are easiest for me to obtain, and when I paint, I use acrylics because I am not allowed to use oil-based paints. I also work in water-soluble wax pastels. When I cannot obtain canvas, I work with paper. 

Every time I begin a new piece, the colors and layout are dictated by what I am experiencing at the time. I utilize both the positive and negative elements of my being, from my hopes and dreams to my pain and uncertainty. I place my mood on the tip of my pencil or brush and just let my mood flow freely and allow it to transfer to the paper or canvas. If I had to imagine it in terms of musical genre, it would be, hands down, jazz. Mostly, my artwork is simple truth, without comment, conclusions, or logic. It is like jazz – either you get it, or you don’t. 

Some of my favorite artistic experiences have been the result of collaboration with other artists. I have collaborated with artists in Lithuania, Great Britain, Australia and the United States, as well as with some of my fellow prisoners.

Acrylic and colored pencil on paper
14”x17” 
The Hummingbird to me represents Freedom, Freedom to be who you want to be, Freedom to go where you want to go, Freedom to write stories, Freedom to create art, Freedom to read books and magazines, Freedom to watch what you want to watch, Freedom to learn, Freedom to express oneself. Freedom is the key to true happiness, without Freedom we are restricted to darkness. Thus, Night Flight shows even in the darkness of night, the Hummingbird has Freedom. 

Blue-J was created out of the beauty of such a beautiful bird, the wonderful blue color that God gave this amazing animal. The name of this piece was not the bird, but for those people who are just kickin back, enjoying the beauty of this beautiful bird. God created some amazing creatures, don't you all think so? Let's all respect life. Whether animals or human beings. Look into the eye of the bird. He is looking back. 

Bio:
John W. Zenc, AKA, Prison Picasso, August 67', US Army in 1972 and again in 1974. Both honorable discharges. Been an artist most of my life. My first 3 pieces of art were sold to John Lennon of the Beatles six months before his death. My art has made the cover of Iron City Magazine. My art has been featured in Spotlight on Recovery magazine out of Brooklyn, NY and others. Been in prison for 47 years, suffer from Parkinson's and Dementia.

Watercolor on hot press paper
10 3/16”x14 3/16”
A barn owl symbolizing wisdom is the center attraction. The owl is standing on the second hand of an exposed clock. The colors are a mix of ultramarine blue, Alz. crimson, yellow, yellow ochre and burnt umber. 

Bio:
Self-taught watercolor artist. I have been painting since 2020 and drawing since 2015. JAC has helped me in a tremendous way and has given me the confidence to send my artwork out to the public.

Coffee, graphite, watercolor on board
Like a snapshot of a bygone era, this work symbolizes the beauty, freedom, life and knowledge that hangs like fruit from the tree of knowledge. Books are our window into the worlds we love that haven been taken from us, by poor choices or in my case, by an impotent legal system that has little time to care. I hope you can see…
Bio:
I have traveled 52 complete rotations around the sun in my lifetime, and my heart’s cry is to live a life of passion not perfection. I want my last breath in this life to be one of satisfaction for a life well lived, and poured out for a world that can be painful and desperate, and to inspire that in others. A lot of my artwork revolves around the theme of romantic love, and the messy beauty that is life. I try to ignore a lot of the rules about art and believe we each have to find the heart of life that speaks to us. So, break some rules, find your heart, and remember to be kind to yourself. A life well lived isn't found in perfection, but in the passion! 

Sean Fox has sold thousands of works of art and reproductions around the world, has designed decorative works for retailers like Neiman Marcus and Anthropologie, and has had his work featured on HGTV and in Home Accents Today.

Acrylic and ink
18"x12"
With this piece, I wanted to express the importance of reading and its power to ignite creativity. During my time in prison, I relied on books and magazines for references from the library to fuel my imagination and educate myself about influential figures who came before me. Without access to books and information, how can we expand our knowledge? I wanted to pay homage to those invaluable resources because they allowed me to bridge the gap between their world and mine. I named this piece "Master Class" because everything I know and envision stems from the teaching of these great individuals across various disciplines like visual arts, literature, poetry, photography, leadership, and abstract thinking. It was a thrilling experience to learn about these remarkable individuals, and I believe that as technology advances, we should strive to make this profoundly important information digitally accessible to those that's woven within the fabric of today's prison caste system. I hope you enjoy viewing this piece and that it transports you to another world, igniting your imagination. 

Bio:
Harry “HEC” Ellis was born and raised in the Nation’s Capital. Once entangled in the allure of the mean streets of DC, he conformed to a lifestyle that led to a lengthy prison sentence. Harry has spent part of his teens, most of his twenties, all of his thirties, and half of his forties, and if some miracle legislation isn’t passed, he may be incarcerated into his mid fifties. 

Since his incarceration, he chose to utilize artistic expression as a means of release. With no formal training he wondered why he was so intrigued and fascinated by art. And, after conducting a genealogical account of his family history, he discovered that he has traces of artistic ability in his lineage. Although he was aware that his grandmother was an artist, he was amazed to find out that her mother was as well. 

Harry’s core objective, with each subsequent rendition, is to ignite some form of an emotional response. His unorthodox style, is aimed to leave the viewer in a position to formulate an independent opinion whether for a deeper understanding, inspiration, or conveying the stark reality of our past and present in hopes to achieve a better future. 

His ultimate goal is to enrich the lives of the less fortunate by showing that anything is possible with a positive attitude, integrity, hard work, consistency, faith, and love.

Acrylic 12”x18”
The Library should be opened 5 days, one night a week. It is closed, a lack of staff (officers), at least 60% or more a week. Having overdue books that can't be returned for over a week. Tried to convey my frustration.

Bio:
Mostly self-taught painter. This kind of thing is out of my comfort zone, but I did it because I was invited to.

Mixed media
As an artist in prison, I've been using the San Francisco library to get information on everything I used to create my art, from old magazines pages, which I've used for backgrounds. To finding thejusticeartscoalition.org, to get this opportunity to show my art to you right now. I've been getting access to information from the San Francisco library since 2019. And I've learned how to find the right art supplies, to create my art, while learning how to create something that's stands out. Looking at other artist that existed before me, which shown me what haven't existed before. From this, I've created an art style to show the world my, VADER POPS, which is what you see now my, puppy pop puppy pop dub. Thank you San Francisco library for sending me everything, that's going to change my life to become an art god. The information you've given me has always been highly educational, thank you. 

Bio:
Hello, I'm Vince Vader, and I want to say thank you for this opportunity to be seen by you. This art style you're seeing is called Vader POPS, and the Vader Pop you're looking at is called: Puppy Pop Puppy Pop Bub. I'll be putting this inside my art book later, so you'll understand what you're looking at. Thank you for your time.

Acrylic
28”x23”
The what is and what could be at our prison education department/library.

Bio: 
Regardless of what I’m painting, I really hope the viewer is left with some sort of impact. Be it a prison themed work or free world subject. I attempt to make you see it a little differently, maybe even better than the original.

My favorite styles of work are both impressionism and pop art. Where I love the style of more impressionist art, I find the subject matter boring at times. The pop art genre I like because of the identifiable items, with the simplifying in technique, be it silks screens or brand name objects, and just the plain audacity of the genre. My favorite artist is Edward Hopper, not only because of the use of acrylic, but because of the light and dark play in most of his work, with the illusion of detail also in play.

Graphite and ballpoint pen on crescent cold press acid free 24 ply board
9.5"x12" 
Metaphorical self portrait; poor attempt to provide a visual image to represent not how I view myself, but my perception of how I'm viewed by others within a socio-spiritual paradigm. 

Over the course of my four and a half decades of confinement, 80% of that in maximum security facilities, I've been witness to how the availability of library-oriented services can impact the social strata that inevitably materialize in these places, both positively and negatively in their social paradigms. 

Facilities that promote and budget their libraries, in my experience, see a markedly significant drop in overall violence and disruptive stress based behaviors. Isolating one's mind from the external input it needs to grow and expand the understanding one needs to navigate this realm's journey and move forward in life is directly related to the information one has available as a resource. 

As for me, the more I was able to learn about the world in general, the better I was able to see myself. All change and growth come from within and must originate from within. This natural drive to evolve and learn cannot occur if the information isn't available. 

There's never just one solution, but promoting library services has never impacted the incarcerative process in a negative way. Ever. 

As for this metaphorical self portrait tilted: Watch Me See You...See Me: It isn't so much how I see myself, but how I perceive myself being seen. This isn't in any way what that perception was even 10 years ago, and it's not for me to define how I'm seen; that's up to those doing the "seeing." 

Bio:
Self taught, works in ballpoint pen and graphite. Started drawing to develop some much needed patience. Support myself mainly doing portraits for other incarcerants from photos. Currently in the 45th consecutive year of imprisonment.

Paper collage
9”x12”
A paper mosaic of the image of pages being ripped out of a book. It symbolizes metaphorical pages torn out of the books of the lives of the incarcerated, as well as representing a frequent occurrence prison libraries experience—something just about any prison librarian can attest to—the vandalism of books by those the books are there to help.

Bio:
Sean J. White arrived in prison in 1997 at the age of nineteen. His work was hung in a number of juried exhibitions and published in various journals. He has had two solo shows and is the author of a nonsequential graphic novel. He is a writer as well as a visual artist.

Pen ink on fabric
14x15”
Little girl with wings drawing a tiger.

Bio:
The painter must paint.

Mixed
15x9.5"x7 1/4"
This is a look at my cell, or combinations of cells I've lived in, that is where I've always gone to read library books. But during the pandemic it actually became my library—and still is, even though it is a different cell now.

Bio:
I made this with my cell as the library it's become for me—especially during the pandemic. Currently residing at AHCC, 27 years served.

Images of acrylic mural on cinder block
10x30’
I was in county for almost 2 years fighting my case. For two years, I did not experience direct sunlight or even a slight breeze on my face. I am a person deeply connected to the earth, to land, to water, plants, and animals. In the struggle to keep my soul alive in the cement and steel I was confined within, the one source of light that fed my soul was books. The volunteers who came inside the jail were from the Arapahoe County Public Library. Every week my cell door would slide open, and shortly afterwards I would encounter their smiling faces and a cart full of an amazing variety of books, from Amor Towles' A Gentleman in Moscow to Arundhati Roy's The Ministry of Utmost Happiness. I was transported to faraway lands. I experienced emotions, romance, adventures, and all sorts of wisdom sourced from so many authors' splendid stories. When I was finally transported to prison and first stepped off of the prison bus, feeling the sunlight and wind on my face was a joy that's hard to describe. I bent down while in my shackles, put my hands in the grass, and felt the vibrations of the living earth against my fingertips. I allowed myself to feel a sense of peace at the moment, and later, when I first entered the Denver Women's Correctional Facility's library, that sense of peace was expanded. I worked there for 2 years before becoming the facility's resident muralist. I loved the joy in someone's eyes when they discovered an author or book they wanted and the library carried it, or they discovered a new author or dabbled into the magical realms of other genres they had not realized existed. The prison's library isn't the largest nor does it carry the most diverse materials, but there is good enough variety, and we are given the option to ask for interlibrary loans from other libraries across the state if we can't find the material we are seeking on the shelves. There are magazines, music, and movies, along with a wide range of up-to-date fiction and nonfiction books to choose from (personally, I am a fan of older and "antique" books, but I understand what is popular rules the day). 

Information sourced from library book pages has been vital to the transformation, rehabilitation, and evolution I have witnessed in myself and so many others here over the years. Not only have these books liberated so many minds and hearts, but they have also provided so much inspiration fundamental to incorporating change through the painting of murals I have been blessed to install even in the darkest recesses of this prison, liberating one wall at a time. Books and creating art have been the best possible medicine for me. There are also people here who may never experience much of what the world has to offer because of lack of accessibility, educational and economic limitations, and because some have life sentences; they will die here, or old age and health conditions limit their mobility. Not only do I get to breathe life, vitality, and color into this prison, but through the visual representation of ideas, education, and culture from all over the planet, I am bringing the world they cannot reach to them. My Education is Liberation mural is in the vestibule passing into the part of the prison containing the law library, chaplain's library, facility library, as well as case managers offices; a point of entrance all staff and inmates must travel through at some point during their visit here daily. The intention is to inspire people to learn, to educate themselves, and to read books. Education is Liberation. The mural covers both walls of the vestibule. On the right side are 6 of my favorite beloved women who have made amazing contributions to this world. I painted them in black and white with "antique" golden frames to try to convey a sense of timelessness. Underneath their portraits is a brief description of who they were and of their legacy. I want people to read more about them and others like them, and also to leave the women here with some great role models. Many never had any. Above them are inspirational quotes. On the left side, Education is Liberation is written in 10 different languages, with every duality of wisdom emanating forth from the book the girl sitting under the tree is opening to read. There are many layers within the dimensions. Stepping out over the atlas of the world, over Africa, is the God of Apothecary, carrying the criterion of wisdom, his anatomy on display, depicting the herbs associated with the health of these parts of the body. There are ayurvedic chakras, representations of amazing architecture from an ancient Greek monastery, the Ortakoy Mosque in Turkey, to the New York City Skyline, the architectural perfection implicit in a snowflake, Melendav's Periodic Table of Elements under constellations, the moon, a rocketship, symbols of sacred geometry, Copernicus's astrology chart, the pyramids of Giza, and the formulaic equation incorporated in their construction. There is a monarch (Tsar Nikolas on horseback) in red, symbolizing the bloody colonizers/imperialists, the Mayflower sailing to the Caribbean, and in the background (hard to see because of poor resolution photocopies) are images of the disappearing Incas in the purple sky, where the blood of the fallen martyrs water the ranunculus flower (an old Persian legend). Inside is the Fibonacci sequence—divine proportion—the blueprint for all of creation. There are endangered species—the swallowtail butterfly, a monarch caterpillar, bees that pollinate the fruits of the earth, a bowhead whale, a look at the inside anatomy of a sperm whale, seahorses and seadragons, jellyfish, a goblin fish from the deepest reaches of the sea, airplanes, and birds of flight trailed by music notes. I tried to incorporate a little bit of everything while surrounding the girl in a world teeming with life and plush with living creatures—elements we are surely missing inside prison but which may be sampled from the pages of books if one only seeks them out. 

People make comments that because I am in prison, my talent is somehow wasted, but I believe for now that my murals are exactly where they need to be, shedding light and love in an otherwise dark place. I do want to share them with the world beyond prison and also the story behind their creation because I offer this message in solidarity to all of those within the Belly of the Beast: It is possible to uplift, educate, and liberate yourself via whatever means available—although materials may be limited, make good use of the cards you are dealt. Every book, every thought, and idea; every invitation is an opportunity to expand your potential and exceed all possibilities. You are worthy. You deserve love, beauty, and knowledge; sometimes it's up to you to discover it. 

Bio:
Humbly, I am an artist, poet, activist, abolitionist, lover of freedom, the earth and all of creation; citizen of the universe. My hope is that I may succeed in continuously creating beginnings where others see endings, opportunities to better my own state of being and those I encounter. May I become a light in a dark place and offer solidarity and strength by giving of myself to those caught up in the struggle to remain compassionate and human despite circumstances that may pressure us to become otherwise. Art is life.