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I was two years in Mexico. Two years, wow. Seems like yesterday I closed my store on Caye Caulker and was moving over the border from Belize into Chetumal during the rains of November 2008 which washed away the Northern Highway, like a refugee. Err... I mean, full time artist.
dry sense of humor chiding me "Miss Lee Ann you are scaring the people again." and "You have to deal with these people and their attitudes with your elbows out, Miss Lee Ann stick your elbows out and establish your space." and my favorite thing he ever said was "Mexicans (read: Catholics) love an apology, so start any sentence with an apology for your bad Spanish." The tutoring always started with a 1/2 hour psychiatric counseling session and ended 2 hours later with my promises to study. I am a terrible student.
predicament again. I began to wonder if I needed to be on an antidepressant. But Ifelt like my depression was the situation, and I was the ony one that could change the situation. Alone in a foreign country, few friends, no one checking on me. Isolation. And while the isolation was good for me to be able to create new things, to have the mental space. I can't handle continual isolation. Who can? Ask someone coming out of solitary confinement.
I got a lot of encouragement from my artist friends and other gallery owners in Belize to reopen. A good friend in San Pedro talked at length with me and told me some of her back story, which I didn't know. It was a story about having to pull herself up out of the toilet over and over, and reinvent herself, and to isolate the people that are making you crazy.
simply told them "I am hard to kill." and wiggled my eyebrows, and then did the crazy eyes thing I am so good at.
en't going to commit suicide at the end of the movie.