Prison Radio
Spoon Jackson

Can you imagine a world without artists? No composers, no painters, no actors, no writers, no sculptors, no singers, no musicians, no film makers, no dancers and no poets. What does a world without handheld hard-written letters and a natural barren landscape—but touch of lips instead of a kiss. People in prison might be the last letter writers in the world, like the Dead Poet’s Society or the lost ancient language.

Some folks in the free world have never received a letter: not a sad or happy letter, not a real love letter that touches hearts and souls. Some people have grown up without ever having written a letter or even knowing how to address an envelope. Because the art and the soul of letter creating has become truncated, abbreviated, and high-tech.

But you cannot replace the stars, the sun, or moon with a pin light, flashlight, or spotlight. Emails and text mails and whatever mails in space will vanish over the years, but the written word stands strong like a mountain. Letter writers create words in their own unique, beautiful and ugly way. The hand, heart and body language on paper.

The connection that each letter writer creates would be lost, like Atlantis or the Fountain of Youth. Letter writing like a delicious dance gifted from the goddesses may then be considered only a dark art practice by just a few people. The magic of the pen or pencil melting into a paper—embrace it. And your hand shows the tension and the depths of your spirit, shows how excited or relaxed you are.

Letters are the footprints of your soul, like no others. They are the body, heart, and spirit language showing the truth, of a happy or wounded soul. Words huddled together on paper, molding letters in one’s own way, in any language, is an art form that has been passed on from cave loving days. An art form as old as poetry and storytelling. Letter writing is vanishing like the polar bears and they’re melting homes. Prisoners may be the last letter writers, letter communities in the world.

I’ll start The Last Letter Writer’s Club, the last letter writers united in the struggle to keep letters alive. So, write someone and be a part of the Last Letter Writers. We are running out of people to write. There’s something freeing about creating letters—something that nourishes and replenishes even the most stubborn, harden, and often most unworthy hearts and spirit. Letter writing offers unity of the mind, body and soul, and sometimes give the shadow side of ourselves away, out of the darkness, away, to share the dark energy in a harmless and creative way. So, write a letter, and be a part of the community and the struggle of the Letter Writers United.

(Sound of a cell door closing.) These commentaries are recorded by Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio.