the laundry chair
Born and raised in Manila, now living in Vancouver. I enjoy photography not only to capture the feeling of being in the moment, but to have the capacity to weave stories into every frame I take. All photos featured in my entries are my own.
Recent posts
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memories are phantom limbs;
A friend recently asked why I do photography, and deep down, I have always known the answer. I can't exactly remember when I first started playing around with a point-and-shoot camera, but I'm sure it was around first grade, when I was 10 years old. I have no recollection of any film stocks I used at the time. Instead, I distinctly remember the smell of that one film lab near my house where I sent…
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you're allowed to test the deep waters,
tw: mentions of self-harm i saw a shitpost not too long ago as i write this and part of it said: pain will follow us regardless of how we try to avoid it. we cannot control [others’] (sic) responses to our art, but it is art regardless. the nature of it does not matter. we do not need to make others happy to be safe. i fear i have a strange relationship with the art i create, but it is one that …
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with our feet firmly planted on the ground,
The gaps between the urges to cry grow longer each month. I am not sure if that is good, but I choose to see it as growth regardless. Sometimes I feel like I am running away from questions that wish to ask other people. Other times, I am running away from the answers I know I will get. Maybe that is why I choose not to ask anymore. Maybe that is also why I am choosing not to approach those I have…
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grief is a sweater i've outgrown,
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what to write, even for this test post. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what to talk about. Even as I type this, I’m still not sure if this is a good starting topic. Last night, I mentally returned to the last argument I had with my ex before finally moving out. At the time, it felt like my present self stood between the version of myself a year ago and my ex. At …
