Inspiration:

In the Powerful People program, one of the sayings was "The way out is back through." That is, in order to be free, you have to go back and face the devastation you caused with your crime, seek out the roots of that behavior and deal with them. Otherwise, like a weed, the criminal behavior will come back. This painting is a symbolic representation of that personal growth for me. The cell has no door - but it's not the way out. To get out, I have to face the ruins I created and climb the steps out into the sunlight. The book in the cell held the key to knowledge. Hidden in the ruins are the broken Web of Relationships, my lurking inner demons of my "shadow self," and a skull representing the murder I committed and have to find some way to make amends for.

What role does art play in your life?

Art is an outlet of creativity for me. A proper application of intelligence and will. It allows a unique communication with viewers and has helped me form and strengthen bonds with people. I am inspired many times by requests from others. Other times, I just want to show something from the fantasy, sci fi and horror genres of movies, comics and novels that I love. Something I think would be cool or funny or scary.

Artist statement:

About 2 or 3 years into my life sentence, I decided to try my hand at drawing. I saw the colored pencil display in the canteen window in St. Cloud prison and bought a few. I started drawing cartoons I saw on TV... badly. Slowly, I got better. I moved on to characters from comic books, which had undergone a revolution in artwork and coloring in the 90s. I learned to blend and gradiate colors. Finally, I tried painting. Acrylics intitally, then water-mixable oils. I evolved from simply reproducing others' artwork to designing my own characters and compositions.

Along my journey as an artist, I realized it was proof of a discovery I had made - that prior to my crime I had constructed imaginary rules about who I could and could not be. I'd never have believedd at 20 that I could be an artist. Or a small engine mechanic. Or a mentor to special needs inmates. Or a changemaker who helps write bills that might be made into laws. Yet, I am all that and more. I am not the same person who committed that horrible, sensless crime in 1991. My artwork is part of the proof of my growth as a human being. Eventually I hope to grow beyond my prison cell and do artwork that gives back directly to the larger community.