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...when I was being tortured... #11 — Description
a variation of metatron's "flower of life" design. coinciding with my capture and torture was the news on the radio of the capture and torture of people in Israel and Palestine as well as war and murders. there was one inmate in the jail that spoke Arabic and I would show him my artworks as he was interested in seeing them. he was very energetic and friendly and told me to call for him if any other inmates attacked me. I told him I was not interested in trying to choose sides or become part of this group or that group in the jail, but that I appreciated the offer of protection. he also wanted my powdered, "vitamin juice mix" that was served with every meal that I didn't drink because of the artificial ingredients. for awhile I would slip the packet under his door as I returned my tray after meals. I was not supposed to share food in that way. he also spoke English, supported military and had an america flag symbol in his cell and told me he was from California. I asked if he had family or friends in the warring areas and he said that he did, so I told him I'm sorry all of that horribleness was happening and i wished for peace and not the horribleness for all the people and groups involved in the war. I didn't pretend to know who was affiliated with which group or gang in the jail and when I spoke with him in the "day room" I would say that I was trying to be neutral and not have conflict with anyone or any group inside the jail. he was friendly to me and would stop by my cell to chat and see the art and i would give him some food like a chocolate, protein powder drink that i didn't care for. i also gave him some colored pencils after i received my set since i had extra from the gift another inmate had given me. there is a culture of slipping other inmates things under their door when they were locked inside or vice versa. there were also Spanish speaking men in the jail and I would occasionally use some basic Spanish to talk with them. one of my neighbors wanted la pan, sliced bread, that was served to me at almost every meal, twice a day, that I didn't eat unless there was peanut butter or something else to eat with it. i would give it to him even though we weren't supposed to share food. i was repremanded verbally by a guard once for sharing food. other inmates explained to me that it depended on the guard on duty or to try to be sneaky about it; which is the kind of rules, enforcement and behaviors that i despise.
they served me hummus that I couldn't eat because it would give me "sharts" and I tried to message the guards and nurses about that, but they continued to serve me that hummus and other foods I couldn't eat despite my dietary needs. I lost weight while I was in jail from being under nourished from the food; not from exercise. the guards offered to move me to a different "pod" where there were more amenities for doing "pod work" and offered me a role as a "pod worker" in exchange for more "day room" time, but I declined because I didn't have the food energy to do any extra work in the jail. we all cleaned our own cells almost everyday.
this artowork I created while I was in what I call, "dungeon level 3," which was after I was moved downstairs to the first floor and after I finally ordered some extra food from the "canteen." level 1, upstairs; level 2, downstairs under the stairwell and starving; level 3, downstairs with extra, personal food stuffs; level 4, after release from the dungeon and under the legal mandates of the deferred sentencing agreement (currently.) level 1 and 2 were horrible.
I put this artowork in the window of the door of my cell and displayed it outwardly into the "day room." it contains symbols and writings of many things that sustain life that were absent inside the jail and that I was missing.