I had three days, from 10:00 a.m.- 3:30 p.m., to paint the mural and at least twenty women participating. It was a large wall, an insane pace and devastating in a way that I couldn’t really recognize at the moment. For me, I had the combined experiences of getting to know these women, understanding in some small way their circumstances, playing with their children and feeling their desperation to express themselves, to work, to hope and to feel love. To see that these women have been judged for life, for perhaps what was their most difficult moment was devastating. To then consider so many of our own country’s leaders, the greatest purveyor’s of global violence and greed, governing with impunity, was sobering. To paint, surrounded by the quiet conversation of different languages, women seated and weaving, their kids playing all around, forced me to consider again the multitude of ways our world is so deeply broken, and who pays the price. And then after all was said and done, the wall painted, to leave. To go home while they are there with their mural, every day prison life etching away at so much of what makes us human. I left with an overwhelming feeling that prison, among so many other things, is the greatest waste of human spirit that I have ever witnessed.