🌿 Emily’s 2nd Act: Mexico, Murals, and the Way Back
Dear Emily,
I was scared.
Not the quiet kind of scared you can ignore — the kind that sits in your chest and says: move, or everything falls apart.
I knew I had to act.
If I didn’t, I could have ended up on the street.
So I did something that didn’t make perfect sense — but felt right.
I went to Mexico 🇲🇽 for three months.
And somehow… everything came together.
Two flights for under $1000 ✈️
My old room waiting for me 🏡
A place to land, breathe, and begin again
It wasn’t luxury.
It was survival — and something more.
I painted almost every day 🎨
Signs for my amigos.
Touching up old signs weathered by sun and salt.
Then murals.
And then… cardboard.
There was something freeing about cardboard.
No pressure. No perfection. Just paint and movement.
I started painting women — beautiful Mexican women in huipiles, surrounded by calla lilies 🌸
Soft strength. Quiet dignity. Color and presence.
It was so hot some days I could barely leave my room ☀️
So I painted there too — sweat, stillness, and color blending together.
When it was time to leave, I didn’t sell the paintings.
I gifted them to my Mexican family 💛
I told them:
Keep them. And if you ever need something for the little boy… sell one.
It felt right to leave them there.
Like the work belonged to that place, not to me.
And then something unexpected happened.
One of my murals got tagged.
At first — it felt sad.
Like something beautiful had been interrupted.
But then… a message.
Someone who walked their dog there all the time wrote to me.
They said it made them sad to see it damaged.
They asked if they could send money to help.
I told them:
I was grateful the mural lasted as long as it did.
But yes… money sounds good.
They sent $500 🤗🩷
I didn’t expect that.
Not the money — but the care.
Now I’m back in Vancouver 🌧️
Dog walking again.
Finding my footing.
Still in my second act.
I went back to that wall.
And I painted again.
This time — a big orca 🐋
Stronger. Bolder. Still moving.
People stopped.
They smiled.
They thanked me.
And for a moment — everything felt aligned.
It felt… wonderful.
Emily,
I think you would understand this kind of life.
The uncertainty.
The need to create anyway.
The strange, beautiful ways things come together when you don’t give up.
I was scared.
But I moved.
And something met me there.
With paint on my hands and salt still in my memory 🌊🖌️
Tina / Zipolita
Emily’s 2nd Act
