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**I must prefice this post by telling you all that life works in mysterious ways. Life is much better today and I can’t wait to share with you what is happening now. Keep loving up on each other.. because PinkMoney is what makes the world go around.**

As I keep attempting to start this blog writing about how this was the worst day of my life, I think it’s more appropriate to describe all of the ways I have been shown grace.

In Sacramento, I sat with a man named Lucky. Upon further reflection I realize he was a white supremacist, though we had a great conversation about Norse mythology, oppositions and love. He said something so quote-able I made him pause as I scrambled for a pen. He said: “The worst thing a person can do is love someone so much they forget how to love themselves.” I read aloud to him from my beloved Lucretious and he nodded as he followed my speech. Afterwards, he exclaimed at my intelligence and thanked me for being an interesting person. He wished me well and told me if I ever needed protection to give him a call. He told me I must have been the reason why he was stranded.. I was the only positive thing he came upon during his trip. He then thanked me for being aware and present, pondering on the affect we have on each other, whether we are aware of it or not.

I slept the rest of the bus trip and most of my time at the San Francisco station, arriving in Gilroy at about 10am. After grabbing my bags and brushing my teeth, I stepped out under the garlic sun. Big breaths and a few blocks later my beloved Myrtle came back into view, faithfully awaiting my return. Only now her battery is completely dead along with the engine. Grief is a powerful feeling, but the will to survive is greater. I dropped my bags off inside and proceeded down main street. I stopped inside every single door that would open. I introduced myself and explained my strawberry propaganda as best I could, gaining strength as I was encouraged in spirit. I had started at the edge of town, so a block in I finally met a man who inquired a bit further.

A few stores down, a barber gave me $5 and a mexican restaurant made me a burrito. I met a woman in the frame shop who loves Strawberries and insisted on giving me $20 because she could only imagine if I were her daughter. The archery shop owner called the president of the chamber of commerce to see if they needed any murals and they asked for me to send my portfolio, I guess they are planning on painting a few murals around town in the next few weeks and asked if I could come back. The Herbalife lady was excited to possibly get a sign painted and Linda from the quilting shop not only read my blog and commented, she gave me advice on a mechanic for my car and a slew of people to talk to, even offering to hang any of my pieces in her shop.

After a few more stops, a few more suggestions and offers, I ended up at the suggested mechanic. I could tell he was trying to be sensitive, but when he pulled me into the garage and straight up told me that I was in a big mess, tears filled my eyes as I tried to keep my face from betraying my emotions. I patiently waited for him to finish shaking his head as I assured him I was aware of how difficult my situation is. He told me my car was gone, no point in lamenting the time or money I had already put into it. I stumbled out and down the street, found a nice shady tree and crumpled into a pile.

Yes, some dark moments have happened today. My van is no longer. Myrtle is dead and grief is strong. I may have had her for only 2 months, but during that time, life was the fullest I could have imagined. Dreams I had envisioned were becoming reality and my home was as mobile as my right foot could press. Not even an hour before she exploded, I was contemplating freedom and the strings I had cut in order to progress to where I was.

And now, a new set of strings has been cut. I declined my parent’s help. I have decided to continue on as PinkRiches, a mural artist because I believe inside my heart that I am living my perfect life. I am a traveling artist and I can survive this; I can survive anything. Though this isn’t the first time I’ve had that thought, the last two years have been filled with painful experiences.

I sat in Myrtle for a long time tonight as the sun set over this fragrant town. I ventured between deep sob and shaming laments. All that is within me is all I need to know. I have a plan and I know that with all of these wonderful people who surround me, StrawberryPropaganda can prevail. Love overcomes fear and as I laugh at the ridiculousness of my situation through my tears I know without a doubt, life will continue.

As I finished my post, closed my computer and packed up, a man commented on my cherry hat, I immediately launched into my StrawberryPropaganda and found out the man owns the screen printing shop in town. We nerded out about paints and screen processes and I asked if he had any work. He replied he’s closed on the weekends, but we exchanged money making ideas and he explained a few odd jobs he’d done around town.

He was out with his daughter, a girl named Destiny. They asked if I liked karaoke, I laughed and asked where to next. We ended up at the dance hall across the street and Destiny and I tore the rug up as we twirled and danced the night away and I walked back to Myrtle with the widest smile I’d had in days.