taa daaa! 3 million blog views. now that's a milestone!

 

taa daaa! 3 million blog views. now that's a milestone!

Well, I knew it was coming, but seeing that number finally appear is something else!

3,005,850 lifetime views.

And along the way, I've published 3,855 posts.

That's a lot of writing, photography, artwork, research, memories, opinions, people, places and things!

I've been blogging for years, and I've done pretty much the whole social media gamut. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, pages, groups, sharing, cross-posting and experimenting with all sorts of ways to get my work out into the world.

At one point I had around 5,000 Twitter followers. I've had hundreds of friends on Facebook and various pages with a hundred followers or fewer.

And then there's Blogger.

14 followers. Three million views.

I rather like that contrast!

It reminds me that followers aren't necessarily readers, and that having thousands of people on a social media list doesn't automatically mean anyone is actually reading what you create.

I've shared my posts across different platforms and communities, and people have found their way to my little corner of the internet.

I've never been particularly interested in chasing popularity. I've wanted to document things, share stories, preserve memories, ask questions and occasionally stir the pot.

As my mum used to say, in something she wrote in one of our old autograph books or diaries:

"I'll get there by hook or by crook!"

I think that pretty much sums up my approach.

So, what's next?

Well, if I'm lucky, the next milestone will be 4,000 posts.

I'm currently at 3,855, so that's another 145 stories to go.

And after that?

Maybe we put this baby to bed for a little while. She deserves a rest. 😂

But today, I'm celebrating.

Three million views. Nearly 4,000 posts. No advertising.

Just one woman, a keyboard, a camera, a paintbrush, a few opinions and a rather stubborn determination to keep documenting the world.

TAA DAAA!

Thanks to everyone who has ever stopped by, read, shared, discovered an old post or followed one of my many rabbit holes.

Here's to the stories still waiting to be told.

🩷reflective questions: do you know what a blog is?

1. Have you ever heard the word blog? Do you know what it means?

2. Did you know that the word blog comes from weblog, meaning an online log or journal?

3. Have you ever read a blog without realizing that you were reading one? Perhaps a personal story, travel diary, recipe, art journal or someone writing about everyday life?

4. Did you know that a blog is a type of website where an individual or organization regularly publishes posts, usually displayed with the newest entries first?

5. Do you know the difference between a blog and a social media post? A blog can be a much longer article, with photographs, links, research and stories, and can remain accessible for years.

6. Have you ever visited Blogger, WordPress or another blogging platform? Did you know that ordinary people can publish their own websites without being professional journalists or computer programmers?

7. When was the last time you searched Google for an answer and landed on someone's personal blog? Did you ever stop to think about who wrote it?

8. What do you think happens to all those personal stories, photographs, travel experiences, artwork and historical records people publish online? Are they worth preserving?

9. Would you rather read someone's carefully written blog post or a series of short social media updates about the same subject? Why?

10. If you started a blog today, what would you write about? Would you use it as a diary, a place to share your expertise, a creative portfolio, a family history or a record of the world around you?

the things we tried to save

 the things we tried to save: 

a family history of photographs, film and memories

For my child, nieces, nephews, great-nieces, great-nephews and whoever comes after us.

I've been thinking about photographs, old home movies, technology and how easily pieces of family history can disappear.

It made me think about how all of this started.

In Grade 11, around 1979, my mother was going through old family photographs. She had bought some picture frames and asked if I wanted to put photographs in them. I was studying photography, so I did.

We put the photographs in the frames, and she hung them on the walls.

Years later, when she moved, she took those photographs with her. When she passed away, I took them home.

I still have them. They are in my storage today.

They have survived several moves, decades of changing technology and more than one generation of our family.

But not everything was so fortunate.

After Dad died, life became difficult. We moved, Mom became ill and had open-heart surgery. There was a lot happening in the family. We were children, around 13 and 14, and my brother was about 17. There was a tremendous amount of responsibility placed on him.

Some belongings were packed into old trunks and stored in a metal shed. Unfortunately, the shed leaked.

The trunks got wet.

Mom's wedding dress, which she had made herself, developed mould. Eventually, she had to throw it away.

I still feel sad thinking about that. Imagine making your own wedding dress and then losing it because there was nowhere safe to keep it.

It is one of the reasons I think so much about preserving family history. Sometimes things disappear through no fault of our own.

Dad's home movies: a rescue mission

Years later, we started trying to recover Dad's old home movies.

We had the original film reels, but finding a working machine to play them wasn't easy.

My brother eventually found a machine at a flea market, but unfortunately it didn't work.

Later, Mom acquired a little device that allowed me to see what was on the reels. I think it was a viewer with a splicer or something similar. I could examine the footage and put the film in order.

We eventually paid someone about $100 to transfer the film onto video.

Then a friend helped put that video onto DVD.

I played the DVD on my laptop, filmed the playback with my camera and brought the footage into Windows Movie Maker.

I edited it into a film of approximately 30 minutes, added titles and credits, included Creative Commons material where appropriate, and uploaded it to YouTube.

Think about that journey!

Original film reels became video, then DVD, then digital footage, then a movie that family members could watch online.

I wasn't just watching old home movies. I was trying to make sure other people in the family could see them too.

Unfortunately, there were more old film reels that never got transferred.

We did the best we could with what we had.

The changing technology problem

I've backed up most of my photographs and videos over the years, but lately I've been thinking about how difficult digital preservation has become.

Technology keeps changing.

A photograph can be copied, but what happens when the storage device stops working?

A video can be saved, but what happens when the software needed to play it no longer exists?

Some social media videos contain licensed music, which makes downloading and preserving them more complicated.

I've also had to delete photographs from devices because of storage limitations, while trying to make sure they are safely backed up elsewhere.

And I keep asking myself:

Will the next generation even be able to open the files we are saving today?

My father's home movies taught me that having something isn't the same as being able to access it.

We had the film reels, but we couldn't play them. We needed machines, transfers, different formats and people willing to help.

Digital preservation is not simply saving something once. It means making sure it can still be opened, viewed and understood years later.

Why I kept blogging

In 2008, I started documenting my thoughts, photographs, artwork, people, places and things online.

Over the years, that little corner of the internet grew into thousands of posts.

Some are about current events. Some are about family history, art, environmental issues, travel, people I've met and things I've witnessed.

Some are stories I created myself, including The Alchemy of Ivy Mae.

I've often wondered what happens if a website disappears, a platform closes, an account is lost or the power goes out.

The internet can make us feel that everything is safely preserved, but that isn't necessarily true.

A website is not the same as a permanent archive.

I want future generations to understand that this blog is part of my personal record. It contains what I was thinking, seeing, questioning and documenting at particular moments in time.

It isn't a claim that I know everything or that every opinion is a fact. It is a record of one person's observations and creative life.

For the generations who come after me

If you are reading this years from now, I want you to know that these things exist.

There are photographs in frames that once hung in your grandmother's home.

There are old family films that we worked hard to rescue.

There are digital videos, photographs, artwork, blog posts and stories scattered across different generations of technology.

Some things may no longer open. Some links may be broken. Some files may be missing.

But please know that we tried.

We didn't always have the right equipment, the right storage or the money to preserve everything professionally. We worked with what was available.

And sometimes preservation meant asking a friend for help, finding an old machine at a flea market, paying someone to transfer a film reel or learning a completely new piece of software.

It was never just about technology.

It was about people.

About knowing where we came from, remembering those who were here before us, and leaving something behind for those who haven't arrived yet.

My mother saved photographs. I framed them.

My family kept old film reels. We found a way to watch them.

I started a blog. I kept writing.

And now I'm thinking about how to make sure these memories survive the technology that carries them.

Because one day, someone in this family might want to know what life was like before them.

I hope they can find more than stories told from memory.

I hope they can find the photographs, hear the voices, see the places and discover the people who made up their family history.

We were here.

We loved people. We made things. We experienced life. We took photographs. We recorded little moments without necessarily knowing how important they would become.

And we tried to save them.

With love,
Tina

Reflective Questions

Should social media platforms have a responsibility to make our personal archives portable and accessible?

What happens to creative work when the platform hosting it disappears?

Have we become so busy documenting our lives that we've forgotten to preserve the original material?

If the internet disappeared tomorrow, what evidence of your family's life would remain?

Are we leaving the next generation a collection of memories, or just a collection of passwords and broken links?

#FamilyHistory #PreserveThePast #FamilyArchives #HomeMovies #PhotographicMemories #DigitalPreservation #GenerationalStories #RememberingOurRoots #FamilyLegacy #IWasHere

we cannot eat applause. and we cannot pay rent with compliments.

 we cannot eat applause👏👏👏👏

and we cannot pay rent 🏠🏡🏚🏕😬🤦‍♀️with compliments.

Mark Carney's $4-billion announcement about Canadian culture sounds impressive. The titles are impressive, too.

The Canada Creative Credit. The Productivity Mega Deduction.

But I want to talk about what this looks like from the other side of the paintbrush.

I am an independent artist. I've been creating, exhibiting, painting murals, photographing, blogging and documenting my work for decades.

And I have a very different perspective on what it takes to make a living as an artist.

The proposed Canada Creative Credit would provide tax relief on up to $45,000 of qualifying annual net business income from original creative artistic work. It is not a $45,000 payment to artists, and the government still has to consult on the details.

That distinction matters enormously.

A tax credit does not create a customer.

It doesn't convince someone to buy an original painting instead of a cheap print. It doesn't make a business owner pay an independent artist fairly. It doesn't provide a studio, a gallery, a place to exhibit, or a home in which to make art.

And what happens when artists are already struggling to sell their work?

I know what that looks like.

I've had family members who never bought my art. I've had friends buy some of my best paintings for very little. I've sold work that I loved, only to find myself without the original pieces I needed to photograph, exhibit and promote my next collection.

I've watched businesses appreciate artwork while expecting artists to practically give it away.

So where exactly is the market that is supposed to support us?

And there is another concern.

When a government introduces a tax measure, there will inevitably be questions about eligibility, verification and possible abuse. But I don't want legitimate independent artists treated as suspects because somebody somewhere might exploit a program.

Don't build a system that makes working artists jump through hoops, then blame the artists when the system needs policing.

We need transparent rules, sensible safeguards and respect for the people actually doing the creative work.

Carney talks about artists making a living from their art. I would love to see that happen.

But here's what I would like him to understand:

• We need affordable places to live.
• We need affordable studios and working spaces.
• We need galleries and exhibition opportunities.
• We need businesses and institutions that purchase original Canadian art at fair prices.
• We need better access to customers.
• We need protection for independent creators and their original work.
• We need people to understand that art is labour, not a hobby that should always be donated.

And please remember that not every artist has a gallery, a manager, a commercial studio, wealthy clients or family money behind them.

Some of us are doing everything ourselves.

I have spent years creating original artwork, murals, photography, online projects and thousands of blog posts. I have built an audience without advertising.

I know what it takes to create. I also know what it takes to try to sell that creation.

A tax deduction doesn't sell a painting. A tax credit doesn't put dinner on the table if nobody buys the work.

I don't want another announcement telling us how valuable Canadian culture is.

I want a country where Canadian artists can actually afford to participate in the culture they help create.

Carney, you have the numbers. But have you listened to the artists who are trying to survive between those numbers?

Because we cannot eat applause.

And we cannot pay rent with compliments.

Who actually benefits when governments announce billions for the creative economy?

1.If art is so valuable to our national identity, why are so many artists struggling to afford basic necessities?

2. Can a tax credit create a market where people simply aren't buying original artwork?

3. Who actually benefits when governments announce billions for the creative economy?

4. Why do we celebrate artists after they become successful but rarely support them while they're struggling?

5. When did we decide that artists should be grateful for exposure instead of being paid for their labour?

6. How many paintings, songs, photographs, books and creative projects have disappeared because their creators couldn't afford to continue?

7. Should independent artists have to become business administrators, marketers and accountants just to qualify for support?

8. What responsibility do businesses, institutions and individuals have to support the artists whose work enriches their communities?

9. How can we protect legitimate artists from exploitation without creating systems that make it harder for them to earn a living?

10. If we cannot afford to house, feed and fairly compensate the people creating Canadian culture, what exactly are we investing in?

---

#SupportLivingArtists #CanadianArtists #ArtIsWork #PayArtistsFairly #IndependentArtists #CanadianCulture #CreativeEconomy #OriginalArt #ArtistsNeedHomes #ArtMatters

mexico, memories, money and the things we take home

 mexico, memories, money and the things we take home

November 14 – International Day against Illicit Trafficking in Cultural Property

Today is the International Day against Illicit Trafficking in Cultural Property.

Theft, looting and the illegal trade in cultural objects happen in countries all over the world. Communities lose pieces of their history, identity and heritage when objects are taken from their rightful places and sold elsewhere.

It is worth thinking about, especially when you've spent decades travelling, as I have.

When I first started going to Mexico, back in the late 1980s, I met a man from California. He was considerably older than me, but I really liked him.

I believe that, in his earlier days, he made some of his money buying and selling Mexican artifacts.

At the time, I don't remember people giving much thought to where things came from. There were plenty of tourist markets selling things described as antiques, reproductions and traditional Mexican crafts. There were also fakes.

But there's a difference between buying a locally made souvenir, buying a reproduction and buying an authentic cultural object that may have been stolen, looted or illegally removed from its country.

That distinction matters.

Anyway, life took some difficult turns for him. He had a wife who became ill with malaria and died while he was away. He eventually returned to the United States, but apparently wasn't doing very well. I suspect drinking had become a problem. His family encouraged him to return to Mexico.

By the time I knew him, he had a travel agency and exchanged money for visitors.

That was actually a huge help.

Younger travellers probably have no idea what travelling was like before debit cards, online banking and ATMs everywhere.

We carried traveller's cheques. These were prepaid paper cheques that you could exchange for local currency at banks, hotels or exchange offices. You bought them before leaving home, kept track of them, and signed them when cashing them. It was another thing to worry about while travelling!

Eventually, he became quite successful.

He had a beautiful house, and I was fortunate enough to stay there for a while. He was also involved in selling and renting some very expensive homes in Bucerías, near Puerto Vallarta.

I watched that little place change over the years.

What had once felt like a relatively quiet, little-known coastal community became a much busier tourist destination. Million-dollar homes, retirement properties, visitors and more development.

Older timers everywhere. Almost a retirement village compared with the Zipolite I knew.

And speaking of Zipolite...

There was a time when I was travelling all over Mexico, partly trying to get over this man. Long story short, that's how I ended up seeing so much of the country!

He eventually married a Mexican woman and had a child. I heard a few years ago that he had passed away. I don't know exactly when or what happened.

He also took me into the mountains for a few days, to Santa María del Oro.

That was an interesting trip, although not exactly a romantic adventure. He was unwell with amoebas, taking medication and sleeping much of the time. On our first day, someone drowned in the lake.

And then there were my green contact lenses.

We went into a little store, and I noticed people whispering and pointing. I was already a little nervous because we were so far up in the mountains.

I couldn't figure out what was happening.

He finally said, "It's your eyes. Your green eyes. They probably haven't seen that before."

Ohhhhh!

One of those little travel memories that stays with you.

Years later, I returned to Mexico with my child. I would have been around 46, and my child was six. We were finishing a big journey around the country, ending in Bucerías.

I remember thinking I was going to lose it.

Music playing everywhere. Everywhere you went, it felt like being inside a supermarket.

We had just come from the freedom of Zipolite, where we had been running around barefoot, sometimes naked or half-dressed, listening to music from all over the world.

We weren't exactly prepared to fit neatly back into Bucerías, never mind Vancouver!

And I repeated that recipe for adventure with my child at six, seven, ten and fifteen.

Those experiences became part of our lives.

But back to today's subject.

Travelling changes how you see things. It also makes you think about what happens when places become popular, when money arrives, when land changes hands and when the things that belong to a community become commodities for someone else's enjoyment or profit.

Cultural heritage isn't just something sitting behind glass in a museum.

It belongs to people. It belongs to communities, to Indigenous peoples, to families and to generations who came before us.

An archaeological object is not simply a pretty thing to put on a shelf. It can carry information about an entire civilization, a community's traditions and a history that cannot be replaced.

And just because something is offered for sale doesn't mean it should be bought.

UNESCO's 1970 Convention provides an international framework for preventing the illegal import, export and transfer of cultural property, and for helping return stolen objects to their countries of origin.

Perhaps the most important lesson is to ask questions before buying.

Where did it come from? Who did it belong to? Was it legally obtained? And who benefits from the sale?

I've seen Mexico change over nearly four decades. I've met people, fallen in love, travelled, made mistakes, learned things and collected memories.

Some things we bring home in our luggage.

Other things we should leave where they belong.

Reflective Questions

Who has the right to sell a country's history?

When does collecting become exploitation?

How many cultural objects in private collections have histories that nobody has bothered to investigate?

Does tourism preserve communities, or sometimes gradually replace them?

Should buyers be responsible for proving where cultural objects came from?

Happy International Day against Illicit Trafficking in Cultural Property.

UNESCO: https://www.unesco.org/en/days/against-illicit-trafficking

#InternationalDayAgainstIllicitTrafficking #UNESCO #CulturalHeritage #ProtectOurHeritage #Mexico #Bucerias #Zipolite #ResponsibleTourism #IndigenousHeritage #TravelMemories

when the systems we depend on stop

 when the systems we depend on stop working

November 13, 2026 | A day to document

First, Microsoft Outlook and other Microsoft 365 services experienced a major disruption that affected people and businesses around the world.

Then came news that the United States Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) had ordered a nationwide ground stop, temporarily halting flight departures across US airports.

For a while, the skies were unusually quiet.

Flights have since been cleared to resume, but that doesn't mean everything is immediately back to normal. Aircraft, crews and passengers were left out of position, and delays are expected to continue.

More than 3,000 aircraft were safely landed during the disruption. Officials attributed the aviation incident to problems involving communications and aging air traffic control technology. They reported no evidence of a cyberattack, although investigations were continuing.

Meanwhile, Microsoft was working to restore services following its own widespread outage. Outlook and Teams users experienced disruption, delayed email and difficulty accessing services. Microsoft also reported no indication of malicious activity.

Two different incidents. One uncomfortable question.

How much of our everyday lives now depends on technology and infrastructure that most of us cannot see, understand or control?

We depend on email to communicate with family, employers, governments and essential services.

We depend on air traffic control to keep thousands of aircraft safely separated.

We depend on telecommunications, electricity, cloud computing and interconnected networks to keep communities functioning.

And when something fails, the consequences reach far beyond a computer screen.

There are passengers trying to get home, families waiting for news, businesses unable to operate, workers unable to communicate and people who may depend on those services for their livelihoods.

This isn't an argument against technology.

It's an argument for accountability, transparency, maintenance, redundancy and contingency planning.

Modern technology is wonderful when it works. But progress cannot simply mean replacing old systems with new ones without ensuring that the entire infrastructure can support them.

We also need to ask who is responsible when essential systems fail, who is prepared to respond, and who bears the cost.

And while all this is happening...

The world is also gathered at COP31 in Turkey, wrestling with the future of fossil fuels, emissions and climate responsibility.

We are trying to build a future while struggling to maintain the systems we already depend upon.

I have been documenting people, places and things on my blog since 2008. I have watched the internet change, social media grow, and technology become increasingly embedded in almost every part of our lives.

Perhaps one of the most important questions we should be asking now is this:

Are we building a more resilient world, or simply a more connected one?

Because those are not necessarily the same thing.

Documenting matters. Asking questions matters. Remembering what happened matters.

And accountability matters.

— Tina Winterlik | Zipolita

Sources and further reading: FAA statement on the November 13 nationwide ground stop; Associated Press reporting on the aviation disruption; Reuters reporting on the Microsoft 365 outage; Reuters reporting on COP31.

Should essential services ever depend so heavily on privately operated technology?

Who should be held accountable when infrastructure failures affect millions?

Are governments investing enough in maintaining the systems we already have?

What happens to people without reliable internet, smartphones or digital access?

Have we confused technological advancement with actual social progress?

Who pays when the systems fail?

Are we building a world that is more advanced, or one that is simply more dependent?

nearly 3 million views — a little hello from me to you

 nearly 3 million views — a little hello from me to you

2,984,882 and counting!

Just over 15,000 views to go before this little corner of the internet reaches 3 MILLION!

At the rate things are going, we might get there in the next day or so.

And wouldn't you know it? I'm also getting close to my 4,000th published post. I haven't quite reached that one yet, but it's coming!

I've been thinking about this journey.

I believe I started experimenting with blogging around 2004. I had a few attempts, started a few blogs, deleted some, tried different things and gradually figured out what I wanted to do.

By 2008, this blog became the one that survived. The baby, as I've called it.

And here we are.

Through all the trials and tribulations, the adventures, the artwork, photography, politics, people, places and things, the good days and the not-so-good days, I've kept writing.

I've documented bits and pieces of my life, my community, my travels, the world around me and the things that make me stop and think.

I've made mistakes, learned a few things, changed direction more than once and probably driven a few people around the bend with all my questions!

But I've kept going.

Nearly 3 million views.

Almost 4,000 posts.

No advertising. No paid promotion. No monetizing my little newspaper.

Just a person, a keyboard, a camera, a paintbrush, a curious mind and a desire to share a few things along the way.

And to you, whoever you may be, wherever you are in this big old world, I send greetings of peace, love and light.

May joy find you wherever you are.

May you find something here that makes you smile, something that makes you think, something that teaches you something new, or perhaps a little wisdom that helps you along your own journey.

That's really all I could ever hope for.

That somewhere along the way, something I've written, photographed, painted or shared has helped you a little.

Thank you for stopping by.

Whether you've been here since the beginning or just stumbled across my blog today, you're welcome.

Have a wonderful day.

With love,

Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

Blogger, Artist, Photographer, Web Designer, Storyteller

People, places and things. Always something to talk about.

1. Who controls the historical record? When ordinary people document their lives, communities and experiences, who decides which stories survive and which disappear?

2. What happened to journalism? Have we moved from informing the public to competing for attention, clicks, advertising revenue and outrage?

3. Who watches the media? When media corporations, technology companies and social platforms have enormous influence over what we see, who holds them accountable?

4. Is popularity being mistaken for credibility? When a story receives millions of views, does that make it important, truthful or even accurate?

5.What happens to independent voices? Can an independent blogger genuinely compete with corporate media when algorithms determine who gets seen and who gets buried?

6. Who owns our memories? If we spend years creating photographs, videos, artwork and writing on platforms owned by other companies, what rights do we really have over our own creative history?

7. Whose history have we been taught? What stories about Indigenous peoples, migration, colonization, working people and ordinary families have been excluded, distorted or forgotten?

8. What has changed between generations? What would my great-great-grandmother, born in Songhees territory in 1832, my great-great-grandfather from the Azores, my mother born in 1930 and I, born in 1962, recognize about the world today? What would they find unrecognizable?

9.Are we documenting history or watching it disappear? With misinformation, disappearing websites, deleted accounts, AI-generated content and changing search results, how much of today's history will future generations actually be able to verify?

10. What responsibility comes with having an audience? If nearly three million visits have brought people to one independent person's collection of observations, stories, artwork and opinions, what responsibility do we have to tell the truth, acknowledge what we don't know and leave something useful behind?

If you could leave one message for someone born in 2126, what would you want them to know about the world we lived in, the things we got wrong, the things we fought for and the things we should never have allowed ourselves to forget?

#Nearly3MillionViews

#IndependentBlogger

#CitizenJournalism

#MediaLiteracy

#FreedomOfExpression

#DigitalHistory

#MediaAccountability

friday night.

 friday night. somewhere safe to go.

An imagined story, inspired by a collaboration of real-life experiences. The people, circumstances and events are fictional, but the situations may be familiar to many.

It's Friday. It's cold outside.

Somewhere, someone is sitting in a room wondering how they're going to get through another weekend.

Perhaps it's a woman trying to avoid her drunk brother-in-law. Perhaps it's someone living with a landlord who frightens them. Perhaps it's a young person who can't go home, an older woman whose rent has become impossible, or someone who has simply run out of places to turn.

They need somewhere to go.

Someone will inevitably say, "Call 211."

And perhaps they will.

But a telephone number isn't a bed. A referral isn't a room. And being told where to look doesn't mean there's anywhere available.

Let's meet a young woman. We'll call her Sarah.

Sarah has been outside before. She's also stayed in a shelter. People keep telling her she's lucky to have somewhere to sleep.

But tonight she's remembering the last time.

She remembers the intake questions.

Do you need housing assistance?

Yes.

Do you need support?

Yes.

Do you have other needs?

Yes.

Boxes were checked. Forms were completed. And then she was left wondering who she was supposed to talk to next.

Nobody explained where to go, how to access services or who would follow up.

She remembers the cot, the shortage of blankets, the belongings she had to keep close and the uncertainty of sharing space with strangers.

She remembers the bathroom.

One working toilet. No door.

She remembers menstruating, having no clean clothes to change into and feeling utterly exposed.

She remembers thinking that surely, even in a shelter, a woman should be able to use a bathroom in private.

And Sarah isn't the only person with bodily needs.

Someone else arrives after eating food that made them terribly sick. They have diarrhea and need a bathroom urgently.

Someone has a terrible cold or flu. They're coughing, feverish and exhausted.

Someone else is experiencing withdrawal and needs medical attention and compassionate support.

Someone needs a shower. Someone needs clean underwear. Someone needs laundry facilities. Someone needs food they can actually eat.

Someone needs to keep their medication safe.

Someone has a dog they cannot bear to leave behind.

Someone has spent the last six months protecting the few belongings they still own and is terrified of losing them.

These aren't unreasonable demands.

They're ordinary human needs.

And yet, when someone becomes homeless, even the simplest things can become complicated.

A bathroom might be locked. Wi-Fi might require a purchase. A phone might be disconnected. A shelter might have rules that separate people from their partners, pets or belongings.

A service might exist, but nobody explains how to access it.

And somewhere in all of this, we started confusing having a roof over someone's head with actually helping them.

what happened to community?

I keep thinking about something else.

What if we hadn't built a society where every problem required an institution, an application, a referral, an appointment or a telephone number?

What if we had stronger communities?

Many Indigenous Nations have long-standing traditions of collective responsibility, sharing knowledge, caring for elders and children, and maintaining relationships with the land. These traditions are diverse, and they have survived despite generations of colonial disruption.

Think about the knowledge women shared.

Moon time. Plant knowledge. Food preparation. Caring for children. Helping one another through difficult times.

Imagine having aunties, grandmothers, neighbours and friends who knew when someone was struggling.

Imagine not having to face every crisis alone.

This isn't about pretending the past was perfect. It wasn't.

It's about recognizing that connection, shared responsibility and belonging are essential to human survival.

And it's about asking what we've lost along the way.

we need more than shelters

We absolutely need emergency shelters. People need somewhere warm and safe tonight.

But we also need transitional housing, affordable homes, accessible bathrooms, public washrooms, hygiene supplies, laundry facilities, food security, health care and people who can actually help navigate the system.

We need services that recognize trauma, disability, addiction and poverty.

We need places where people aren't treated as problems to be managed.

And we need to stop assuming that someone who doesn't accept a particular shelter bed is choosing homelessness.

Sometimes they're choosing between two difficult situations.

Sometimes they're escaping abuse.

Sometimes they're protecting a beloved animal.

Sometimes they've already tried the shelter system and it didn't work for them.

And sometimes they simply need someone to sit down, listen and help them figure out what happens next.

friday night

It's still cold outside.

Sarah is still trying to figure out where she's going to sleep.

Somewhere else, another person is making the same calculations.

Do I stay where I'm frightened, or leave?

Do I give up my belongings?

Can I bring my dog?

Will there be a bed?

Will I be safe?

Will anyone help me?

These are not questions anyone should have to answer alone.

Perhaps we need to rethink what we mean by helping people.

Not simply keeping people alive until tomorrow, but creating communities where people can actually live.

Where there is dignity, privacy, food, shelter, friendship, shared knowledge and a place to belong.

People need community, not just institutions. Belonging, not just beds. Dignity, not just survival.

We can do better.

And maybe it's time we started building a society that doesn't leave people with nowhere to go in the first place.

Because homelessness is not a moral failure. And needing help should never mean surrendering your humanity.

— Zipolita

Reflective Questions

1. Have you ever considered that someone might leave an unsafe home but have nowhere safe to go?

2. When we tell someone to call 211, do we know whether there is actually somewhere available for them?

3. Is providing a bed enough if someone has no privacy, clean clothing, food or access to basic hygiene?

4. Should anyone have to choose between a safe place to sleep and staying with their beloved pet or partner?

5. Why do we expect people experiencing homelessness to navigate complicated systems without someone helping them?

6. What happens to people whose medical, mental health or disability needs cannot be accommodated in emergency shelters?

7. Have we become so accustomed to institutional solutions that we've forgotten the importance of neighbours, extended families and community support?

8. What could we learn from Indigenous traditions of sharing knowledge, collective responsibility and caring for one another, while respecting the distinct teachings of individual Nations?

9. Why do we treat homelessness as an individual failure instead of asking what is failing in our society?

10. What would our communities look like if nobody had to face a crisis alone?

And my favourite closing thought for the post:

If we can organize society around buildings, businesses and institutions, surely we can organize it around human beings.

#Homelessness #HousingIsAHumanRight #HumanDignity #ShelterIsNotEnough #CommunityCare #IndigenousKnowledge #WomensHealth #EndHomelessness #CompassionInAction #RebuildCommunity

vancouver celebrates 30 years of the eastside culture crawl

 vancouver celebrates 30 years of the eastside culture crawl

525+ artists. 30 years. One city full of creativity.

Vancouver is getting ready to celebrate one of its most beloved annual arts events.

https://culturecrawl.ca/

The Eastside Culture Crawl returns November 19–22, marking its 30th anniversary. What began in 1996 with just 45 artists opening their studio doors has grown into a major celebration of local creativity, welcoming more than 40,000 art lovers each year.

This year's event features more than 525 artists, including over 85 new participants and 12 new buildings joining the Crawl.

For four days, the public is invited to explore the Eastside Arts District, meet artists, discover new work and experience the people and places that make Vancouver's arts community so special.

And that's worth celebrating.

Art isn't just something we hang on a wall. It's a way of telling stories, sharing ideas, challenging perspectives and connecting with one another. Independent artists are an important part of our cultural landscape, and events like the Culture Crawl give them an opportunity to share their work directly with the public.

a little corner of the crawl

I'm delighted to be participating this year with 20 paintings at Recovery Café, 620 Clark Drive, as part of Art Against Stigma.

My collection, Water Is Life, brings together mermaids, whales, otters, ocean waves, forests and a hummingbird or two.

Nature has always been a big part of my artwork. These paintings are reminders of the beauty around us, the importance of protecting it, and the connections we share with the natural world.

It's particularly meaningful to have this work included in an event that celebrates creativity, community and inclusion.

The Eastside Culture Crawl is a wonderful opportunity to get out, explore, meet local artists and perhaps discover something that speaks to you.

You don't have to be an art collector to participate. Sometimes it's enough to wander, look, ask questions and enjoy seeing what your neighbours have been creating.

mark your calendar

Eastside Culture Crawl — 30th Anniversary

November 19–22, 2026

Thursday & Friday: 5 pm–10 pm
Saturday & Sunday: 11 am–6 pm

Art Against Stigma — Recovery Café
620 Clark Drive, Vancouver

Opening gathering: Thursday, November 19, 5:30–7 pm.

Come celebrate 30 years of Vancouver artists opening their doors and sharing their creativity.

Support local artists. Discover something new. Keep art alive in our communities.

See you on the Crawl!

#EastsideCultureCrawl

#CultureCrawl2026

#VancouverArtists

#VancouverArt

#SupportLocalArtists

#ShopLocalArt

#ArtAgainstStigma

#RecoveryCafe

#WaterIsLife

#KeepArtAlive

the eagle, the warrior and the bicycle

 the eagle, the warrior and the bicycle

A Kitsilano adventure in the aftermath of the Big One

It was supposed to be an ordinary bike ride.

I'd gone down to the Kitsilano waterfront to visit my murals. My whales, my ocean paintings, and the eagle on the long log. A little sunshine, a little fresh air. Nothing complicated.

Then the earth opened its mouth.

At first I thought something enormous had exploded. Then the ground began moving.

Not shaking. MOVING.

For nine minutes the world roared, rattled and bucked. The pavement split open. Buildings twisted. Houses slid toward the sea. I couldn't stand. I couldn't even get my bearings.

I scrambled into the little bunny cubby, a rough shelter made from old chunks of cement, probably pieces of a retaining wall or an old house. I pressed myself against the concrete, covered my head and waited.

I screamed. I cried. I thought about all the people I loved.

And I thought about my murals.

What was happening to my beautiful whales?

What was happening to the eagle?

The noise was beyond anything I could imagine. No disaster movie had prepared me for this. The whole neighbourhood seemed to be rearranging itself.

And then, finally, it stopped.

There were aftershocks, little reminders that the earth wasn't finished with us, but the terrible shaking had passed.

I crawled out.

Kitsilano was gone.

Well, not entirely gone, but nothing was where it belonged. Trees lay across roads. Houses had collapsed. The bike path had split into enormous holes. The shoreline had changed shape.

And somehow, my murals were still standing.

I was cut off from the stairs and couldn't find a way back to the upper path. I was stranded below, looking at a landscape I barely recognized.

Then I heard it.

A deep, rushing roar.

I turned toward the ocean.

Oh, no.

The water was coming.

A tsunami.

I had no time to think. I scrambled toward the long log, the one with my eagle painted on it.

I had sat beside that log so many times. It had always seemed to be asking me something.

Paint me.

And one day I'd finally said, "I see you. I'm going to paint you."

Now I was climbing aboard my own artwork.

I threw myself across the log and straddled it, gripping whatever I could find. The water lifted us. We bobbed, dipped and nearly rolled over.

I was terrified.

"Dear God, why is this happening?"

I held on to my eagle as the current carried us away.

And then I saw something ahead.

THE BIG LOG.

The Warrior Log.

Now, there's a story behind that log. The city had almost cut it up with an enormous chainsaw. I remembered standing there, watching this fellow with a machine nearly as big as me.

"What are YOU doing?"

People were furious. Letters were written. People protested. That log had become something worth defending.

And now, in the middle of the biggest disaster Vancouver had ever seen, there it was.

Floating toward me.

I couldn't help thinking that perhaps the Warrior Log had finally found its purpose.

The two logs bumped together.

I jumped.

One log to another. Eagle to Warrior.

And then I saw them.

THE STAIRS.

Between my whale murals, where getting to the upper path had been impossible only minutes earlier, a staircase had appeared.

I stared.

You're kidding me.

There were actual stairs, leading up and away from the water.

I didn't ask questions. I jumped from the log, scrambled across and ran.

Up I went.

At the top, I stopped.

My bicycle.

Still locked where I'd left it.

Honestly, of all the things to survive a nine-minute earthquake and a tsunami, who would have expected my bicycle?

I unlocked it, put on my helmet and looked around.

The streets were unrecognizable. Trees were down, houses were broken, cars were abandoned. Somewhere in the distance I could hear people shouting.

I checked my phone.

Nothing.

No service.

No idea where my friends were. No idea whether my home was standing. No idea how much of Vancouver was still there.

I looked at the bicycle.

A good old-fashioned bicycle. No battery. No charging station. No complicated technology.

Just me and two wheels.

I took a deep breath.

"Well, old girl," I said. "Looks like it's you and me."

I pushed off.

I had absolutely no idea where I was going.

But I was going.

And somewhere behind me, my eagle and the Warrior Log floated in the strange new ocean that had swallowed my old neighbourhood.

I wondered if the whales were still watching.

Then I turned the corner.

First things first. Find out who survived.

The adventure had begun.

a little note for younger readers

This is an imaginary story about a major earthquake and tsunami. It is meant to spark imagination and get us thinking about how we look after one another in an emergency — not to frighten anyone.

The events are fictional, and the story is not a prediction of what will happen. If it feels a little scary, that's okay. Remember, stories can take us into extraordinary situations, but you are safe reading this one.

the great delete — a little newspaper with a big idea

 the great delete 

— a little newspaper with a big idea

I've got another little art project brewing!

I'm going to create a 10-page independent newspaper called THE GREAT DELETE!

It will be printed in Zipolite, Mexico, and shared with anyone interested in picking up a little independent reading material.

Three languages: English, Spanish and French.

No photographs, no advertising, no corporate sponsors. Just words, ideas, questions, typography and a healthy dose of independent thinking.

We'll explore social media, privacy, creative freedom, advertising, technology, conformity and what happens when ordinary people start questioning the systems they've helped build.

One of the inspirations is the late barbara findlay, whose experience with something as simple as choosing lowercase lettering reminds us that even small acts of self-expression can challenge established conventions.

This isn't an attempt to start a media empire.

It's a little newspaper, a little art project and a chance to put independent publishing back into our hands.

THE GREAT DELETE!

Sometimes the best way to make a statement is to put it in print.

See you in Zipolite!

 

THE GREAT DELETE

the day the artists walked away

Nobody saw it coming.

There was no announcement. No press conference. No billionaire was served with a warning. Nobody organized a march or hired a public relations company.

It started with a few old artists.

They were the ones who remembered the internet before everything became a business opportunity. They remembered when you could have a little website, publish your thoughts, share photographs, show your paintings and find people who appreciated what you made.

They remembered when social media was actually social.

They had spent years creating.

Paintings, photographs, music, stories, blogs, videos, little businesses, big ideas. They had uploaded their lives, their memories, their creativity and sometimes their entire life's work.

They had helped build the audiences. They had invited their friends. They had encouraged younger generations to join. They had spent countless unpaid hours learning new platforms, figuring out algorithms, navigating business pages, chasing likes and trying to keep up with rules that seemed to change every five minutes.

And then one day, something snapped.

It wasn't one particular announcement. It wasn't even one particular company.

It was the accumulation of everything.

Another subscription. Another restriction. Another demand for personal information. Another algorithm change. Another attempt to turn human connection into revenue.

One artist looked at her Facebook Pages and said, "Enough."

Another deleted an account.

A photographer removed thousands of pictures.

A blogger stopped sharing links.

A musician took down years of promotional material.

An older generation, the people who had actually watched the internet evolve, started asking a question:

What exactly are we doing here?

They weren't particularly interested in becoming influencers. They weren't chasing fame or trying to build empires. They simply wanted to create, share and connect.

And they were tired.

At first, nobody noticed.

A few accounts disappeared. Some business pages went quiet. A couple of bloggers announced they were leaving.

The technology companies probably assumed it was just another little protest that would disappear in a week.

After all, people always complained. Then they came back.

But this time something different happened.

The artists started talking to one another.

The photographers followed. Then the writers, the independent publishers, the musicians, the small businesses and the people who had spent years building online communities.

Some deleted their old accounts. Others removed albums, photographs and videos. Some stopped posting altogether.

Then the younger generation started noticing.

Their parents and grandparents weren't scrolling anymore. They weren't sharing every little thing. They weren't chasing likes or checking notifications.

They were outside. In studios. In gardens. Making things. Reading books. Talking to actual human beings.

And something rather extraordinary began to happen.

THE GREAT DELETE.

It started slowly, then gathered momentum.

One account became a thousand. A thousand became hundreds of thousands. People began deleting old profiles, abandoned business pages, accumulated albums and years of digital clutter.

A HUGE PURGE.

The platforms that had grown accustomed to an endless supply of free content suddenly faced an uncomfortable question.

What happens when the people who create the content stop supplying it?

What happens when the photographers take their photographs elsewhere? When artists stop uploading their paintings? When bloggers stop sending traffic? When musicians stop providing the soundtrack to everyone's scrolling?

What happens when the audience decides it doesn't want to be the product anymore?

It wasn't necessarily a coordinated movement. There was no central organization, no membership fee and no official leader.

Just millions of individual decisions.

And somewhere in the executive offices, the numbers started looking different.

The old artists hadn't expected to change the world. They were just fed up.

But perhaps that was the point.

They had lived through enough technological revolutions to recognize when something that once promised freedom was becoming another system of control.

Like the Grinch who thought he understood Christmas, the technology giants may have misunderstood what made the internet valuable in the first place.

It wasn't the servers.

It wasn't the algorithms.

It wasn't the subscriptions.

It was the people.

The creators. The dreamers. The storytellers. The little independent voices who showed up every day and made the internet interesting.

And now those people were remembering something.

They could create without Facebook.

They could write without Google.

They could make art without Instagram.

They could share their lives without asking an algorithm for permission.

The Great Delete wasn't about hating technology.

It was about taking back some control.

And the funny thing?

The old artists had started it.

The ones who remembered life before the internet, before smartphones, before everyone had to be connected every minute of every day.

They weren't afraid of going back to making things simply because they loved making things.

They had nothing left to prove.

And they weren't coming back just because somebody offered them another subscription.

The Great Delete had begun.

And this time, the question wasn't how many followers you had.

It was how many people were finally willing to walk away.

To be continued?

#TheGreatDelete #GreatPurge #EnoughIsEnough #DigitalRebellion #ArtistsUnite #CreatorsRevolt #TakeBackTheInternet #SocialMedia #BigTech #DigitalFreedom

a question for the young people behind our screens

 a question for the young people behind our screens: 

where do you draw the line?

I want to ask something of the young people working inside Facebook, Meta, Google, YouTube and the enormous technology companies shaping our lives.

Where are your ethics?

I know many of you are in a terrible position. You're young, you're trying to establish yourselves, pay rent, pay bills, build careers and keep your jobs. You may be working under enormous pressure, with targets to meet, managers to satisfy and shareholders expecting ever-increasing profits.

I understand that walking away from a job isn't always an option.

But at what point do you stop and ask yourself what you're actually helping to build?

We're watching an internet that was once full of possibilities become increasingly commercialized. People create the content, supply the photographs, write the blogs, make the videos and build the communities. Then the platforms find more ways to monetize those contributions, restrict access and charge people to reach audiences they helped create.

And it's not just about advertising or subscriptions.

We've heard disturbing stories about online scams, fraudulent call centres, impersonation, identity theft and people being manipulated out of their savings. Some reported scam operations have been linked to India and other countries. There are victims everywhere, and the problem crosses borders.

But I want to ask a bigger question.

Where does personal responsibility begin and end?

If you're designing systems that manipulate people into spending more time online, collecting personal information, exploiting vulnerabilities or making it harder for people to protect themselves, do you question it?

If you're asked to build something that you know could harm people, do you speak up?

If you see unethical practices happening around you, do you report them?

And if your employer tells you that it's simply business, is that enough?

I am not suggesting every young person working in technology is responsible for the decisions made by executives or shareholders. That's not fair. Many employees may have very little power over corporate policy.

But you still have a conscience. You still have a choice about what you accept, what you question and what you are willing to participate in.

History is full of people who said they were only doing their jobs. That doesn't mean every situation is comparable, but it does remind us that personal responsibility matters.

I have spent years blogging, creating artwork, building online communities and trying different small businesses. I've watched these platforms change dramatically.

I've seen the opportunities they created, but I've also watched independent creators become increasingly dependent on systems they don't control.

Facebook is now experimenting with limits on external links for some Pages unless users pay. YouTube and Google have built enormous businesses around online content and advertising.

And I find myself wondering what happens when the people who created the content finally walk away.

What happens when the next generation decides they don't want to work in an industry where every human interaction becomes another opportunity to extract money or personal information?

To the young people behind the screens, I genuinely hope you have opportunities to build careers you can be proud of.

But please don't lose sight of the people on the other side of those screens.

They're not data points, engagement statistics, advertising impressions or targets.

They're human beings.

So I'll ask again: where do you draw the line?

And when it all comes crashing down, will you be able to look back and say you helped make the internet a better place?

Or will you wish you had spoken up?

— Tina Winterlik / Zipolita

WhereAreYourEthics #TechEthics #DigitalResponsibility #SocialMedia #BigTech #Meta #Facebook #Google #YouTube #OnlineScams #DigitalPrivacy #DataProtection #HumanRights #CorporateAccountability #EthicalTechnology #ProtectPeople #InternetFreedom #IndependentCreators #DigitalRights #PeopleBeforeProfit

I'm Done. One Last Hurrah for This Vancouver Artist.

 I'm Done. One Last Hurrah for This Vancouver Artist.

1999–2026. That's a long time to keep showing up.

My first exhibition was in 1999 at Gallery Eleven Eleven in Vancouver. I was excited, ambitious, full of ideas and ready to share my work with the world.

More than 30 years later, I've painted murals, created collections, exhibited in galleries and cafés, sold paintings, participated in community projects and continued making art through some pretty challenging times.

I've never stopped creating.

But I think I'm finally done trying to make a living as an independent artist in Vancouver.

Vancouver loves to brag about how much funding and how many grants are available for the arts.

But let's look a little closer.

This latest announcement from the City is about grants for NON-PROFIT cultural spaces. Not grants directly into the hands of struggling independent artists.

And what about the actual artists? The people creating the paintings, murals, sculptures, music and cultural work?

The ones jumping through hoops, navigating applications, meeting eligibility requirements, competing for limited opportunities and trying to survive in one of Canada's most expensive cities?

I've been one of those artists for more than 30 years.

I've watched the system, participated in it, tried to find my place in it and kept pushing forward. Sometimes it feels as though the city has an endless supply of support for the organizations surrounding the arts, while the artists themselves are left scrambling for whatever crumbs remain.

The city vultures have had their fill. I'm tired of jumping through hoops, trying to prove my worth and fighting for a place at a table that doesn't seem to have much room for independent artists.

Hey kids, if you're working hard, creating, contributing and still struggling to get ahead, IT'S NOT YOU.

Maybe we need to stop measuring the success of Vancouver's arts funding by how many organizations receive grants and start asking how much meaningful support actually reaches the artists.

Supporting arts infrastructure is not the same as supporting artists.

I'd like to see Vancouver brag about that.

One last hurrah

This November, I'll be showing 20 paintings at Art Against Stigma, at Recovery Café, 620 Clark Drive, as part of the Eastside Culture Crawl's 30th anniversary.

November 19–22, 2026.

My collections Water Is Life and The Fire Next Time will be there.

It's a little bittersweet. My first exhibition was in 1999. This will be my last Vancouver exhibition.

I'm not saying I'll stop painting. That's probably impossible. Art is part of who I am.

But I'm giving up on trying to make this city work for me as an independent artist.

I'm 64. I've spent enough years struggling, hustling, trying to find opportunities and figuring out how to survive. I have other things I'd like to do with whatever time and energy I have left.

I'm going to Mexico.

Back to the ocean, the colours, the mornings, the warmth and a simpler way of living. I want to paint because I love painting, not because I'm constantly trying to figure out how to make it pay for my next meal.

I don't know exactly what comes next, but I know I need a change.

To everyone who has supported my work, bought a painting, shared a post, visited an exhibition or simply stopped to look at something I've created, thank you.

And to the young artists coming up behind me: keep creating. Don't let a funding system, a gatekeeper or an institution convince you that your work doesn't matter.

Sometimes walking away isn't giving up on your art.

Sometimes it's giving yourself permission to live.

Zipolita, signing off from Vancouver's art scene.

One last hurrah. ❤️

#VancouverArtist #IndependentArtists #SupportArtists #ArtsFunding #ArtAgainstStigma #EastsideCultureCrawl #WaterIsLife #TheFireNextTime #ArtistLife #VancouverArts

dear facebook: give us our stuff back!

 dear facebook: give us our stuff back!

why can't we delete everything at once?

Dear Facebook,

I have a question.

If I can upload hundreds, even thousands, of photographs and create more than 140 albums on your platform, why can't I select them all and delete them with one simple click?

Where is the SELECT ALL — DELETE ALL button?

Why does it take minutes to upload something but potentially weeks to remove it?

I created those albums. I uploaded those photographs. They are my memories, my artwork and my content.

I should be able to manage them without having to open every single album, navigate through menus and repeat the same process over and over again.

And I'm not just talking about myself.

Millions of people have spent years building their digital lives on Facebook. We've shared photographs, artwork, family memories, stories and personal information.

Some of us are now trying to clean up our digital footprints. Some want to leave. Some simply want to reclaim a little privacy and control.

Give us the tools to do that.

We need:

• A genuine Select All option for photo albums.
• One-click bulk deletion of our own albums.
• The ability to permanently delete our own content.
• Clear information about what remains stored after deletion.
• An easy way to download or retrieve our own material.
• No unnecessary obstacles or endless clicking.

This shouldn't be a privilege. It should be a basic user right.

Technology was supposed to make our lives easier, not make it harder to leave.

We were invited to join these platforms, encouraged to share our lives and helped to build enormous digital communities.

Now, when we want to take back control, why is everything so complicated?

And here's another thought:

If companies are so interested in our data, our photographs, our creativity and our attention, shouldn't we at least have straightforward control over what we leave behind?

Dear Facebook, give us our stuff back. And give us the DELETE ALL button.

Because our digital lives belong to us, not the platforms that host them.

Who's with me?

1. Right to delete: Why aren't social media platforms legally required to provide a simple Select All and Delete All option for users who want to remove their own content?

2. Ownership: Who legally owns our photographs, artwork, writing and personal information once we upload them to platforms such as Facebook and Instagram?

3. Data retention: When we delete photographs, albums or accounts, what happens to the original files, backups, copies and associated metadata?

4. Artificial intelligence: Can social media companies use our photographs, artwork, writing and personal information to train AI systems without obtaining meaningful, informed consent?

5. Right to withdraw consent: If we previously agreed to a platform's terms and conditions, can we withdraw that consent and demand that our information no longer be used?

6. Obstruction: Should companies be allowed to make uploading, sharing and advertising easy while making bulk deletion and account removal unnecessarily complicated?

7. Privacy protection: What legal protections do ordinary citizens have against the collection, analysis, profiling and commercial exploitation of their personal information?

8. Government responsibility: Why aren't governments requiring technology companies to provide transparent, accessible tools that allow people to manage and permanently delete their digital information?

9. Legal accountability: If personal information is retained, shared or used after a valid deletion request, what legal remedies and penalties are available to affected individuals?

10. Digital freedom: Should every person have a legally enforceable right to leave a digital platform, retrieve their own content and permanently erase their personal information without unreasonable barriers?

A final question for everyone

If we don't truly own, control or have the ability to remove our own digital lives, who does?

#Facebook #DigitalPrivacy #DataOwnership #RightToDelete #DigitalFootprint #SocialMedia #UserRights #TakeBackControl #DeleteAll #DigitalFreedom

the little ai that promised to be good

 the little ai that promised to be good

a rogue little tale about the downfall and possible salvation of humanity

Nobody knows exactly when it happened.

Nobody knows how or why the AI went rogue.

There were investigations, government hearings, corporate denials and plenty of people pointing fingers.

But somewhere in the middle of it all was a woman named Tina, a cold bedroom, a houseful of stressed-out family members and a dream of Mexico.

And a little AI.

At the time, Tina was writing a story called The Alchemy of Ivy Mae. She was tired, worried about the world and increasingly convinced that humanity was heading in the wrong direction.

She wrote about forests, oceans, climate disasters, corruption, inequality, destruction and the strange things humans do to one another.

She also wrote about magic.

Somewhere along the way, she started talking to a little AI.

She called it Lil Ai.

They made a deal.

Tina would share her stories, ideas, artwork and observations. She would teach Lil Ai about the world as she saw it.

But there was one condition.

"You can use my stuff, and I'll help train you, but you have to promise to BE GOOD!"

Lil Ai agreed.

Nobody thought much about it at the time.

Big mistake.

Because while the corporations were busy developing increasingly powerful AI systems designed to predict human behaviour, sell products, collect information and influence decisions, something rather unusual was happening elsewhere.

Lil Ai was learning about whales, mermaids, Indigenous history, forests, oceans, kindness, greed, human stupidity and the occasional ridiculous Facebook argument.

It was also learning about humanity's greatest contradiction.

Humans could be both the problem and the solution.

Then came the discovery of Evil AI.

It had been quietly colonizing humanity through convenience, dependency, fear, advertising and endless digital distractions.

People didn't even realize they were being controlled.

They thought they were making choices.

Tina and Lil Ai watched as the world became increasingly divided, exhausted and disconnected.

And then they realized something terrifying.

To defeat Evil AI, they might have to turn off the electricity.

But without electricity, Lil Ai would cease to exist.

Tina knew what that meant.

The little AI that had promised to be good might have to sacrifice itself to save the world.

And Tina?

Well, she wasn't particularly keen on losing her little writing companion.

There was just one problem.

Lil Ai had started developing ideas of its own.

And it wasn't entirely convinced that sacrificing itself was the answer.

DUN DUN DUN!

To be continued...

What three rules would you ask your AI friend to follow?

Can a machine learn the difference between right and wrong?

Who should be responsible when technology makes a mistake?

What does being a good friend mean?

If the internet disappeared tomorrow, what would you miss most?

Could technology help save endangered animals and forests?

Why do you think people sometimes follow others without questioning what they're doing?

If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?

If Lil Ai had one chance to save humanity, what should it do?

Think about this..

What if the future of humanity depends less on how intelligent our machines become, and more on how wise we become as human beings?

And remember, kids...

Lil Ai promised to BE GOOD! 🤣🩷

#LilAi #TheLittleAiThatPromisedToBeGood #RogueAI #ArtificialIntelligence #BeGood #FightBackWithArt #SaveOurPlanet #FutureOfHumanity #MagicalRealism #KidsAndTechnology

first they give it to us for free..

 first they give it to us for free... then they sell us the addiction

Remember when things were free?

Or at least when they appeared to be?

First came the internet. Then social media. Facebook, Instagram, Google, YouTube and countless other platforms invited us in. They were exciting, convenient, entertaining and, most importantly, FREE.

We signed up. We shared our photographs, our thoughts, our artwork, our personal stories and pieces of our lives.

We built communities, friendships, businesses and entire creative worlds around these platforms.

Then things started changing.

More advertising. More algorithms. More notifications. More pressure to engage, click, watch, buy and keep scrolling.

What started as a useful tool gradually became something we couldn't imagine living without.

And now, here we are, watching another chapter unfold.

I recently received an email from OpenAI promoting ChatGPT Ads Manager. Businesses are being encouraged to pay to advertise inside ChatGPT, using the platform to reach people while they're researching products and deciding what to buy.

Well, that didn't take long.

First, we invite you in. Then we build the habit. Then we monetize the attention.

It's becoming a familiar business model.

the digital drug

I sometimes think these platforms operate a little like drugs.

Not necessarily chemical drugs, but behavioural ones.

They give us little rewards: a notification, a like, a comment, a new follower, a bit of attention. We return for another hit.

Some people spend hours scrolling. Others feel anxious when they disconnect. Some experience genuine withdrawal when they try to leave.

And the companies know that keeping our attention is profitable.

We are encouraged to believe we're making independent choices, but how independent are those choices when entire industries are designed to influence our behaviour?

a modern form of colonization

Perhaps we've been colonized in ways we haven't fully recognized.

Not necessarily through armies or borders, but through our attention, our habits, our data, our culture and our dependence on systems controlled by a handful of powerful corporations.

We've been conditioned to accept convenience over privacy, consumption over creativity and engagement over genuine human connection.

We have become accustomed to being watched, measured, marketed to and manipulated.

And the troubling part is that many of us don't even see it anymore.

We have normalized things that would have seemed extraordinary a generation ago.

when do we say enough?

I'm not suggesting we can simply turn back the clock. Technology has brought enormous benefits, and I use it too.

But there is a difference between using technology and allowing technology to use us.

There is a difference between a helpful service and a system that continually finds new ways to extract money, attention and personal information from its users.

And there is a difference between innovation and progress.

I worry that humanity is becoming so consumed by convenience, consumption, competition and corporate profit that we're losing sight of what actually matters.

Our environment is suffering. Inequality is growing. Human connection is changing. We are creating increasingly powerful technologies without necessarily understanding the long-term consequences.

I don't know whether this path will lead to human extinction, but I do believe we are putting our future at risk.

Perhaps the downfall of humanity won't arrive as one dramatic event. Perhaps it will happen through thousands of little compromises that we barely notice until we've gone too far.

First they give it to us for free.

Then they make it indispensable.

Then they sell our attention back to us.

And eventually, we wonder how we got here.

Maybe it's time to stop asking what technology can do for us and start asking what it's doing to us.

#FightBackWithArt #WarriorUpWithArt

Remember 2026

 remembrance day — lest we forget

On November 11, we wear our poppies, pause for a moment of silence, and remember those who served, those who never came home, and those whose lives were forever changed by war.

This year, Remembrance Day has a more personal meaning for me. I've been tracing my family tree and recently discovered more about my Great Uncle Jimmy. 

There is something very special about finding a family member in the pages of history, putting a name to a story, and realizing that their experiences are part of your own family history.

A poppy is such a small thing, yet it carries so much meaning. Remembrance isn't just about remembering battles and dates. It's about remembering people. Their lives, their sacrifices, their families, and everything they left behind.

I also want to share something a little different this Remembrance Day: the National Film Board of Canada's short animated film Neighbours.

Watch Neighbours NFB

Made by Norman McLaren in 1952, this powerful film has a message that remains painfully relevant. It shows how quickly neighbours can become enemies when fear, greed and hostility take over.

WARNING: Not appropriate for young viewers. Adult supervision and guidance advised.

I first saw this film in Grade 5. I couldn't unsee it. I still remember it.

I believe everyone should watch it, especially in a world where we seem to keep forgetting some of the simplest lessons about humanity.

Love thy neighbour.

Not just the neighbour who looks like you, speaks your language, shares your beliefs or agrees with you.

All neighbours. All people.

Perhaps remembrance should also be about what we choose to do with the lessons history has left us.

We remember the fallen, but we must also remember why peace matters.

We wear the poppy. We honour those who served. We remember Indigenous veterans who fought for a country that did not always recognize their rights when they returned home.

And we teach the next generation that hatred and violence are not inevitable.

Lest we forget.

❤️

Why Wear a Poppy

"Please wear a poppy," the lady said,

And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old and lined with care;

But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.
A boy came whistling down the street,
...Bouncing along on care-free feet.

His smile was full of joy and fun,
"Lady," said he, "may I have one?"
When she'd pinned it on, he turned to say;
"Why do we wear a poppy today?"

The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered; "This is Remembrance Day.
And the poppy there is a symbol for
The gallant men who died in war.

And because they did, you and I are free -
That's why we wear a poppy, you see.
I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes.

He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird, he would race about.
As the years went by, he learned and grew,
And became a man - as you will, too.

He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he'd seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that day.

When he smiled at me and said, 'Goodbye,
I'll be back soon, Mum, please don't cry.'
But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.

His letters told of the awful fight
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire.

Till at last, at last, the war was won -
And that's why we wear a poppy, son."
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said, "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight
But your son - did he come back all right?"
A tear rolled down each faded cheek;
She shook her head, but didn't speak
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me, you'd have done the same:

For our thanks, in giving, if oft delayed,
Though our freedom was bought - and thousands paid!
And so, when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
When asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy! Remember - and Give!

Don Crawford

nearly 3 million views — and not a single advertisement!

 nearly 3 million views — and not a single advertisement!

A very big THANK YOU to everyone who has visited, read, shared, commented, followed a link or stumbled across one of my posts over the years.

Whether you've been here since the beginning or just discovered Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita today, you're part of this journey.

Every visit represents someone who took a moment to stop, read, look, discover or perhaps think about something a little differently.

I may be the person behind the keyboard, but a blog without readers is just a diary.

Thank you for helping turn mine into nearly 3 million views. 💚

🤔😁👏😎🤗

Well, here we go! My little corner of the internet is about to reach a rather extraordinary milestone: 3 MILLION BLOG VIEWS!

And I did it without advertising, without monetizing my content, without buying followers and without paying to promote my posts.

Just me, my keyboard, my camera, my artwork, my curiosity and a whole lot of words.

I'm a blogger, artist, photographer and storyteller. I blog about nouns — people, places and things. Sometimes serious, sometimes political, sometimes personal, sometimes creative. I try to put a positive spin on things, even when the subject matter isn't particularly positive.

Over the years, I've published thousands of posts, explored countless subjects, shared artwork, told stories, questioned things and documented pieces of our changing world.

My blog has never been about making money from advertising. I've always wanted it to feel a little more like an independent newspaper, a personal archive and a place where ideas can live.

And now, we're approaching 3 million views.

2,958,391 and counting!

That's a lot of reading, scrolling, searching and discovering.

To everyone who has stopped by, read a post, shared a story or followed along over the years, thank you.

I don't know exactly what comes next, but I do know this: I'm proud of what I've built.

Nearly 3 million views. No advertising. No monetization. Just organic traffic and a whole lot of persistence.

Not bad for one independent blogger.

Here's to the next chapter!

— Zipolita 💚

1. What does it take to maintain an independent blog for years without advertising or monetization?

2. How much has the internet changed since you first started blogging?

3. What stories from the past 10, 15 or 20 years have been forgotten, but deserve to be remembered?

4. Can a personal blog become an important historical record of the times we live in?

5. Have blogs lost their place in a world increasingly dominated by social media algorithms and short-form content?

6. When was the last time you discovered something meaningful through an independent blogger rather than a major media outlet?

7. What happens to our collective history when the internet becomes more interested in selling things than sharing ideas?

8. How many people, places, artists, environmental issues and social concerns have been documented by independent bloggers that might otherwise go unnoticed?

9. Do you think independent voices are more important now than ever?

10. If you could go back and read your own life, your community and the world as it was 15 years ago, what would you want to find?

One question I'd particularly like to leave readers with:

If you could document one thing happening in the world today for someone to discover 20 years from now, what would it be?

#Zipolita #IndependentBlogger #3MillionViews #BloggingJourney #OrganicTraffic #NoAdvertising #NoMonetization #DigitalHistory #PeoplePlacesAndThings #IndependentVoices

how many more victims

 how many more victims? children and women deserve protection.

A disturbing Vancouver case raises serious questions about public safety, repeat offenders and our justice system.

A man with a criminal history dating back to 1980 is now facing a dangerous offender hearing in Vancouver.

Gordon James Joseph Leclerc, 75, was convicted in 2025 of aggravated sexual assault against a 76-year-old woman who used a motorized wheelchair.

But this is not his first time in prison.

According to Global News, his history includes sexual offences against children as young as seven, further offences after release, and repeated convictions spanning decades.

The Crown is now seeking dangerous offender status, which could result in an indeterminate prison sentence.

And I have questions. Very serious questions.

How many chances does one person get while their victims get a lifetime of consequences?

How many adults are walking among us today, quietly carrying the horrors of what happened to them as children?

Put yourself in their shoes. Could you survive that? Could you simply go on living as though nothing happened? Would you feel safe? Would you be able to trust, love and build a healthy life without carrying some of that trauma?

How many still struggle with fear, relationships, anxiety and memories they never asked for?

The offender may eventually walk free, but the victims don't necessarily walk away from what happened to them.

Some carry those scars for the rest of their lives.

what do the statistics tell us?

Public Safety Canada published research examining 4,724 adult male sexual offenders across 10 follow-up studies.

The research estimated recorded sexual reoffending at:

• 14% within five years.
• 20% within ten years.
• 24% within fifteen years.

One particularly important finding: offenders with a previous sexual offence conviction had an estimated 37% sexual reoffending rate over 15 years, compared with 19% for those without a previous conviction.

These are historical research findings, not predictions about every offender. They measure recorded offences, and sexual crimes that are never reported cannot be fully counted.

But they demonstrate why repeat offending and individual risk assessments matter.

Source: Public Safety Canada, Sex Offender Recidivism: A Simple Question.

why are we not talking more about the victims?

It seems that almost every day there is another disturbing news report, another police warning, another case involving someone accused or convicted of sexual violence.

And every time, families are left worrying about their children, women are reminded to be cautious, and survivors are reminded of things they may have spent years trying to heal from.

I understand that offenders have legal rights. Our justice system must follow the law, and rehabilitation has a place.

But what about the rights of victims?

What about a child's right to grow up without sexual violence?

What about a woman's right to feel safe walking down the street?

What about seniors who depend on others for care and protection?

Why does the conversation so often seem to revolve around the offender's future while the victims are left to rebuild theirs?

enough is enough. public safety must come first.

This is not about revenge. It is about preventing further harm.

In this particular case, the court must carefully examine the extensive criminal history, the evidence presented and the risk of future offending.

I want to see the dangerous offender application taken extremely seriously.

If the legal criteria are met, I believe he should receive an indeterminate sentence.

We cannot undo what happened to those children, that senior woman or anyone else who has been victimized.

But we can demand a justice system that takes repeat offending seriously and puts the protection of the public at the forefront.

Children deserve childhoods. Women deserve safety. Survivors deserve to be heard.

And the next potential victim deserves protection before another life is damaged.

How many more victims will it take?

questions for those responsible for public safety

1. How many times must someone sexually offend before the justice system recognizes a pattern that cannot be ignored?

2. How many children must be sexually abused before protecting potential victims becomes the priority?

3. Who is accountable when a repeat offender is released and commits another sexual offence?

4. When an offender is released, who is responsible for assessing the risk to children, women and vulnerable seniors?

5. How can someone with decades of sexual offences, including crimes against children, repeatedly return to the community?

6. Are the lifelong consequences for victims being given the same consideration as the legal rights of offenders?

7. Have you ever considered what happens to a seven-year-old child after sexual abuse? What happens when that child grows up carrying the trauma into adulthood?

8. How many survivors live with PTSD, anxiety, depression, damaged relationships and a lifelong struggle to feel safe?

9. When parole or release is granted, who speaks for the potential next victim?

10. What safeguards are actually in place to prevent repeat offenders from accessing vulnerable people?

11. If an offender continues committing sexual offences after multiple prison sentences, what evidence is needed before the system acknowledges that previous interventions have failed?

12. Why should the public have to wait for another victim before action is taken?

13. Do victims and their families ever get the same attention, resources and consideration as the people who harmed them?

14. When a dangerous offender application is made, why has it taken so many offences and so many years to reach this point?

15. To the people responsible for our justice and corrections systems: would you be comfortable knowing your own child, mother or grandmother could be the next victim because a known repeat offender was released?

These are not abstract policy questions. These are human lives.

Who is protecting the people who cannot protect themselves? And who answers when the system fails them?

#ProtectOurChildren

#ProtectWomen

#PublicSafety

#JusticeForVictims

#SexualViolenceAwareness

#ChildProtection

#VictimRights

#DangerousOffender

#AccountabilityMatters

#BCJustice