07/09/2026
A few years ago, I experienced a profound emotional breakdown in the middle of aisle 7 at Home Depot. I was standing in front of a rack of paint samples, clutching a can of tile adhesive, overcome with emotion as I cried into a crumpled list titled “Things I Can Control.”
This incident occurred shortly after I moved into my first independent residence, a house that echoed with emptiness and smelled of plaster and unfulfilled dreams. My hands were shaking from exhaustion and, if I’m being honest, from the weight of trying to build something beautiful after a year that had left me emotionally shattered.
See, a year earlier, I’d had a deeply distressing argument with my mother, one that left an indelible mark. She expressed her disapproval of my artistic pursuits, dismissing my passion for upcycling tiles and creating handmade items as “cute” but not a viable career path. “You’re too intelligent to waste your time,” she said. I packed my belongings that night and left, and we didn’t speak again for a long time. Her words had a profound impact on me, as she never believed in my abilities.
However, color has always been my medium of expression. Even in silence, I felt an overwhelming need to create something that spoke to my emotions. So, I began breaking and reassembling dishes and old tiles, collecting garage sale plates and chipped teacups. I wasn’t sure what I was creating, but I knew I wanted the wall in my backyard to convey a meaningful message.
That’s when I discovered a tip about the Tedooo app in an online group. I came across a post from a crafter who was creating tiny ceramic sunbursts. I sent them a napkin sketch at 2 a.m. and wrote, “Can you help me tell a story I’m not ready to say out loud?” They didn’t ask questions; they simply agreed to help.
And that marked the beginning of my journey. Suddenly, I wasn’t just gluing broken pieces together; I was connecting with people worldwide who understood the transformative power of art. I collaborated with artists from Brazil, the Midwest, and Sicily. I ordered mirror pieces from a woman who had recently lost her sister, and a seller from Romania created tiny flower tiles in colors I didn’t even know I needed.
I worked tirelessly, often barefoot, with coffee in one hand and grout in the other. Every circle on the wall represents a season, every flower a moment I survived, and every bird a symbol inspired by my childhood drawings when life felt simpler.
Then, one day, when the wall was almost complete, I received a message on Tedooo. A woman had liked one of my tile sets and expressed her admiration for my use of color. She wanted to order a small mosaic kit to create with her granddaughter.
I opened her profile, and my heart skipped a beat. It was my mother.
I sat in stunned silence, not feeling anger or happiness, just stillness. It was as if the universe had pressed pause.
Her message read:
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you. I see it now. I see how powerful it is to create something that evokes emotions in others. I’m proud of you. I truly, deeply am. And I hope this can be a new beginning.”
She ordered the smallest mosaic kit I offer, and I included a red petal tile, symbolizing forgiveness.
Now, the wall is complete. People in the neighborhood refer to it as “the soul wall.” Children leave small treasures in the flowerpots, and I’ve finally opened my own Tedooo app shop, filled with pieces that bring people a sense of wholeness.
Let’s inundate the world with color. Let’s build walls that bring people back home.
