Shapero

matcha please (at Capitol 8)

Forever lola's girl. (at Poblacion Burgos Pangasinan)

The bored na ko gusto ko na umuwi look at that highlight tho (at Valle Verde 1)

Sylvia Plath

The collective feat. bag clutter

Sa Andalucia. Balik concerete jungle nanaman. (at Feria Residencia Ferinsonds)

but struggle will forge potential

Wala e, ikaw talaga.

Darling, Has no one ever told you. Some things are too beautiful to be art. Some things are not meant to be held captive by canvas, drawn and painted by another's hand, only to be forgotten for the next pretty thing that inspires that hand. You are not art because you are too much, too real, too alive. Art cannot bleed the way you do. Or love the early mornings or the night sky and its moon. Or feel the truth of every storm reverberate in its very heart. You deserve more than a fleeting glance, a cursive look or a critical gaze. You deserve to be held, to be look upon as an adventure, to enjoy and be enjoyed. You are not art, you are human... You are galaxies and universe and more.

Sabado routine. Weekend market is lyf.

Énouement The bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, where you can finally get the answers to how things turn out in the real world -who your sister would become, what your friends end up doing, where your choices would lead you, exactly when you'd lose the people you took for granted-which is priceless intel that you instinctively want to share with anybody who hadn't already made that journey, as if there was sime part of you who had volunteered to stay behind; who was still stationed at a forgotten outpost somewhere in the past, still eagerly awaiting news from the front.

Timely. Insert your ignorance coin since we are slowly slouching to World War III. (at Art Fair Philippines)