CRAFTING IN THE CLINK

My beloved late sister Ang would frequently threaten her children that she was going to commit a slightly heinous crime to get a much needed and well deserved break in prison.  So, somehow in one of our many random and brilliantly thought provoking conversations we somehow arrived at the conclusion that she may have been onto something.  Clearly, the biggest road block in the crafting world is free time.  You see where I am going... don’t you?  The fabrication of many creative license plates adds merit to this school of thought. I am thinking it needs to be taken to the next level.  Consider this for a moment.  Acquiring the skill of using mundane everyday objects to make something useful and beautiful requires a great amount of innovation and some willingness to let things that actually need to be done get moved to the tomorrow list once again. Nothing like some solitary confinement to give the brain the space it needs.  To be honest, I do question my ability to get myself into solitary confinement.  I was born to be a good girl. My unfortunate compulsion to follow rules with exactness, however, may be a be a blessing in disguise. I could be rewarded with greater access to the above mentioned everyday objects.  With time and good behavior I may even get clearance for brief supervised scissor visits.  Give me some slightly greying  white sheets, standard prison issued orange jumpsuit, and my place would sing with spring time! Martha Stewart’s cell would have nothin on my pad! 

ROB DOG

BLOCK 11 CELL 15

Don’t get me wrong I do believe there is clear evidence supporting the ideology that Prison could be a very productive place to craft.  I undeniably feel  a little solitary confinement could possibly induce a plethora of creative neurons firing into action.  The idea of being sentenced to 5-10 years of uninterrupted crafting is a no brainer.  Meals fully prepared, free internet, and large tables just yearning for glue, glitter, and gadgets makes for a  solid case.  I surely would have no problem trading  gum for glue sticks.  However,  the lack of sharp objects poses a conundrum in and of its self.  Unlike Robby, I am pretty sure I will not earn the coveted scissor time.  I also question the strength of my teeth to gnaw through prison issued textiles. The 50 thread count sheets, maybe, but have you seen those jumpsuits? I am pretty sure they are made from rough canvas.  I am also sure my mother would not be happy if I knowingly damaged my pearly whites that she invested a substantial chunk of money into.  Not only do I  without a doubt do my best work in stretchy pants, but orange is nowhere near my color pallet.  I do also have some concern as to how long before my inner monologue became my outer monologue, and eventually ending in a yard fight.   Productivity for sure would suffer with my eye swollen shut and a bruised hand.  But hey, you should she the other gal. 

 So, I have to say I am straddling the fence on this one. 

 But, not a the prison fence... that would for sure hurt.

BRIDGE DOG

BLOCK HIGH SECURITY

CELL  SOLITARY CONFINEMENT (AGAIN)