Phase Shift:
Felipe Umbral’s Journey from Lawyer to Artist
Written by Michael Lodato
Published on June 22nd, 2026
When I arrived to meet Felipe Umbral at a coworking space in the Lower East Side, I thought at first that I had the wrong address. Umbral guided me past a couple of headset-wearing startup bros to show me around. In the back, he was building out a studio, equipped with a tattoo gun and ample incense, which I imagined wafting into the workspace, sanctifying conversations about search engine optimization. Listening to his backstory, I learned that this transition from a corporate to bohemian environment was emblematic of his life.
“That trip led me to another trip, and another trip, and another trip,” he said, “I didn’t come back to Mexico until a year later.”
Umbral began his career as a lawyer in Mexico. In the midst of wrestling with the moral implications of his work, he lost his job in 2017. “I was not just fired from my job, but kicked out of the legal system,” he explained. He successfully negotiated a kind of severance package by requesting the firm cover the costs of a master’s degree in Spain. “That trip led me to another trip, and another trip, and another trip,” he said, “I didn’t come back to Mexico until a year later.” He was admitted to a Spanish university, but the program wouldn’t take him until the following year. Still soul-searching, he chose to live a nomadic life in the meantime. “At some point, I didn’t give a fuck about the master’s. I was already in another school,” he said, referring to his travels, which were decidedly non-academic, but a learning experience nonetheless.
“People were like, ‘Oh, your life will be so cool, just traveling around,’ but it’s fucking hard,” said Umbral, “especially with no money, alone.” Back in Mexico, Umbral took odd jobs, eventually landing in Chiapas, where he lived in storage space. “The town doesn’t have a drain system,” he said, describing the situation in San Cristóbal, where he fell seriously ill. “I was very thin, like extremely thin,” he said, “I thought ‘I’m gonna die here.’” Struggling with his health, he one day wandered into a garden on private property. He recalls an old woman yelling at him to leave just before seeing his yellowing skin. “She told me, ‘Stay here as long as you want. I’m gonna bring you some plants,’” he said, “I started crying right there.”
Umbral’s journey had reached a natural end point. He began reconsidering his life plan, sensing that he had enough connections to break back into the legal field. Ready to leave behind his travels, he recommitted to his former career path. What followed was a testament to some time-tested advice: always say yes. Umbral brought a sketch book to a coffee shop the day before he intended to return home. “I was drawing there, and the owner passed by and said ‘I like your drawing. Actually, can you finish a mural? Because I paid some guys a deposit—they started it, but never came back because they were backpackers.’”
“I can start as soon as I finish my coffee,” Umbral said. He took the gig.
In a stroke of luck, the same thing happened again. While working on the coffee shop mural, Umbral was approached by another onlooker, this time about painting for a university. It quickly became clear that there was a job on the table: painting murals at the university’s multiple campuses. With a daunting task ahead and little experience under his belt, Umbral grappled with the decision, but ultimately decided to go for it. He pleaded with a friend to let him practice painting a mural at her home. She agreed, as long as he painted the wall white again afterwards—she was renting the space. After some hurried preparation, he started working on the university’s walls. “The first one was probably not great, but the second was better,” he said. Umbral’s career as a professional artist had begun.
After finding his footing, Umbral began exploring big ideas in his artistic practice. His work has an unmistakable psychedelic character, rooted in his experience with hallucinogens. While some see these substances as escape hatches from reality, Umbral emphasizes groundedness. “If you want to grow your spirit, you have to serve here,” he said, “Do whatever feeds your soul, but it has to be done here, in this life.”
“People see a lot of spirituality in my art,” he said, “but honestly, I don’t consider myself that spiritual. I consider myself more existential.”
Umbral’s foray into ayahuasca actually predates his artistic career. Following a string of ceremonies, Umbral said that he “started developing another consciousness, or voice, inner voice. It was like, ‘Dude, stop doing what you’re doing. These working class people deserves better,’” referring to the victims of the legal system in Mexico. Umbral’s search for meaning has included psychedelic adventures, but he has had a tendency to bring those experiences down to Earth by prioritizing action and drawing out practical insights. “People see a lot of spirituality in my art,” he said, “but honestly, I don’t consider myself that spiritual. I consider myself more existential.”
Many of Umbral’s paintings depict portals and passageways, symbols of evolutionary progress. He titled one such piece “Sublimation.” “Sublimation is when matter goes from solid to gas, without passing through liquid,” he explained. When this type of phase shift is taught to students, it can sound like skipping a step. While it might seem magical, the process is perfectly natural—that such a drastic change of state happens naturally seems to have inspired Umbral.
“I think the difference between what you are good at and the purpose of your life—I think the purpose includes the people, how you can inspire, transform, or serve them.”
As Umbral saw throughout his career pivot, sublimation has a moral dimension as well. “I think the difference between what you are good at and the purpose of your life—I think the purpose includes the people, how you can inspire, transform, or serve them,” he said, “My father is no longer walking. I just discovered that this past year. So I thought, ‘Okay, what can I do for him?’ I released a bunch of prints [of ‘Sublimation’], and I bought him a mobility scooter.” In this way, Umbral has found purpose in work that threads together worldly obligations with otherworldly visions.
For Umbral, what started as a gig—painting murals—became a way to express philosophical insights.
For Umbral, what started as a gig—painting murals—became a way to express philosophical insights. As his work grew and changed, so did the mediums he chose. Tattooing was a fitting addition to his portfolio of skills. Tattoos are existential. They’re a choice, an attempt at self-authorship. “Murals are static and temporary,” he said, “They can last like two days, a year, six months. Tattoos are traveling pieces. They’re not forever, but they’re for a lifetime.” Tattoos are often obtained as milestones, marking internal change with external ones, a ritual that well represents Umbral’s journey.
His penchant for transformation continues. Next, Umbral plots a takeover of his coworking space. Umbral imagines hosting events, “parties that involve tacos, tattoos, and techno,” he said. With an open floor plan office area, a reception desk that could double as a bar, and a lounge upfront, Umbral has a lot to work with. I asked him how he got so lucky finding this location. He pointed to the mural in the stairwell. It was one of his.
Michael is a Brooklyn-based writer, independent tutor, and former philosophy instructor. His comedy has appeared in McSweeney’s, The American Bystander, and Current Affairs. He is passionate about using humor to teach big ideas and has contributed script writing to educational YouTube channels like Crash Course and Wisecrack. He is perhaps best known for the time he accidentally offered an edible to a former Bush administration official, who politely declined.
Instagram: @magnesiummike
Website: mikelodato.com