In 2006, 29-year-old Berthet I was in prison, serving a 10-year sentence for robbery.

He was struggling. The days were long and repetitive.

To take his mind off of things, he took up an old hobby, doodling.

As a kid, he loved to draw. It was his own little bubble.

When I was a child, I drew a lot, I loved that. I spent hours of my field, all alone, and I drew.

I invented stories. So when I was only in prison, I drew myself well. It made me more calm.

One day, Berthet was lying on his prison bed quietly listening to music and doodling.

When a guard, a guardian, came into his cell for the daily security check.

The guard glanced over Berthet's shoulder, noticed his drawing, and yelled.

That's amazing! You've got golden fingers!

He was so strong, he was scared of me. But I didn't want to argue with the guards.

I wanted to be alone. But the guards continued to talk to me.

And he asked me if I could make him a lesson.

Berthet ignored his request. Drawing was something private.

But the following week, the guard asked again. And again, Berthet ignored him.

This went on for weeks. Until one day, the guard said the last thing that Berthet wanted to hear.

He said, I'm tired of gifted guys like you who waste their talent.

Berthet was irritated, so he used his drawing to retaliate.

He drew a caricature of a face-off. Berthet's standing proud pumping his chest,

and the guard on his knees, a genu begging.

On the drawing, the guard was a genu.

He said, if you like Berthet, do me a draw. When I gave the drawing to the guard, I thought he would be a coller.

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