How Art Connects Us To Each Other
I was pretty much broken when I got to Washington Corrections Center for Women. I was traumatized by the situation that I was charged for, and the process of getting from cuffed to prison. When I had been on the Medium Security Unit of WCCW for a few days, I noticed this one person with really spicy energy. They were bad and bold and their makeup was fierce. They walked around with the strongest sense of self-possession I had seen in the place. I watched them interact with others. They laughed loud and long, and seemed to get along with anyone and everyone, just living it up and having the time of their life! I decided I had to find a way to talk to them.
About a week later, I spied them in the dayroom leaned over the table. Their hair was up in buns and they had drawn a lightning streak down one cheek. They tapped their pen against their lips, then continued what they were doing. I took a deep breath, and gave it a shot.
“Wow, this looks sick! I love graffiti.”
They looked up and smiled. “I do a lot of it. This one’s a card for Lil Mama’s birthday.”
I looked closer…. I saw the contrasting complements of their color choices and the complexity of the linework; the beauty of the piece, even unfinished, washed over me. Art has a way of nourishing my soul and giving me strength. That fortitude is something I really had to draw on to make it through hate from other residents and the innate violence of incarceration.
“Nice. I’m Evie.”
They didn’t look up, but their attention was clearly on me. “puppet. How long have you been in MSU?”
“A couple weeks. I’ve seen you around.”
They nodded. “Did you see me in the kitchen, too?”
“Mostly in the yard and here. Can I sit down?”
They pointed to a seat. We were the only ones at the table.
“So do you do graffiti?”
“No, just a fan of it. My art is different.”
They stopped and looked up. “What do you do?”
“Abstract geometric stuff. I am also a decent poet, though I haven’t written in a long time.”
Their eyes lit up. “I’m writing a poetry book!”
I smiled. “I would love to read some pieces if you don’t mind sharing. I need to start writing again and it could be great inspiration.”
A look of delight crossed their face. “I’ve been wanting to do a writing group here in MSU, we could write together!”
And we did. We pulled in this guy named Kyle, who shared these amazing short stories. They were dark and brilliant and I hope he keeps writing forever and makes a million doing it. Eventually, I also discovered that he was great at drawing, contouring, and electronics. He told me stories from the machine shop he will go back to whenever he goes home and showed me blueprints he had drawn for something he was inventing.
As we gathered for our writing circles, it became more than that. We became friends. We told each other stories about our lives. Eventually I started painting and I would sit next to puppet while they created their latest piece, some of them being sent to the Solidarity Art Collective for reprints and sales! Eventually puppet connected me to SAC too, and I sent some art in for the shows.
April 8, 2026, I left WCCW to participate in the Graduated Reentry program. I have also joined puppet in organizing SAC membership; them from behind bars, me out here on the street. I’m hoping to make inroads in more incarceration environments—Western State Hospital, in particular, is on my heart. I know there have to be some epic artists in there, sitting isolated and forgotten. I want to bring their names and works to light and let them know that people out here still care.
To the Future! <(^_^)>
Evie (Evelyn McMurray, #447957)
We love art, everything about it. Saying nothing so loud that its silent. I'm a reflection in this world, leaving space between words I'll never say.
Curve / 2026 / Graphite and Watercolor on Paper/ 4” x 6”
Six overlapping French curve shapes in different colors in an abstracted arrangement, deliberately showing both order and chaos.
