
Being Pinoy
What does it mean to be a Filipino today?
Living away from home has both confronted and illuminated my identity as a Pinay, taking me through a journey much like island-hopping across the many shores of our cultural archipelago
Every island of experience is rich, complex, and part of a whole.

Storm Cycles
Acrylic, gesso, and oil on canvas board
(40 x 50 cm)
The Philippines is one of the most climate-vulnerable countries in the world, with an average of 20 tropical cyclones hitting us each year. In November 2025, two storms hit the country within the span of a week. Typhoon Kalmaegi and Super Typhoon Fung‑wong brought winds of up to 220km/hr, displaced nearly 500,000 people, and claimed the lives of hundreds. If left unchecked, the economic damage of these storms could weigh on up to 2% of the country's GDP from agricultural, infrastructural, and market disruption damage. This painting symbolises these realities in one emotional image. A human hand opens up to the sky, reaching for help. Sampaguita flowers sail across the board to signify how poor people are at the forefront of these issues. Branches, yero, and faceless figures are pulled into the spiral. On the upper left corner, a hint of light blue sky peeks through - a color for hope in the face of this difficult environmental and social reality.

The Philippines is not poor, it's plundered
Acrylic, gesso, and oil on canvas board
(40 x 50 cm)
Between 2023-2025, an estimate of $2 billion dollars of Filipino tax payers' money disappeared into the pockets of a greedy, powerful few - money that was meant for large-scale public infrastructure projects to mitigate the growing consequences of climate change, particularly flood control. This theft has robbed the Filipino of his hard-earned tax money, and our nation of the hope for economic development and prosperity. It is a hole in our pockets so big that millions of us are left naked and powerless in the storm. This painting has 5 symbols that tell the story of this reality: 1. The crocodile hand. Locally known as "buwaya", the crocodile is a symbol for corrupt and exploitative public officials whose hunger for power and money consumes everything in their way. 2. Coins. Piles of unimaginable wealth taken bit by bit. Some coins resemble contemporary Filipino currency. Others hint at impressions of Filipino faces - the invisible millions whose money, lives, and dignity have been taken. 3. Sampaguita strings. Sampaguitas are white, sweet-smelling flowers that are commonly sewn through a tender thread and sold by poor children on the street. Ironically, the Philippine national flower has transformed into a symbol of poverty. The strings of sampaguitas are painted in figure 8s to signify the endless cycles of poverty in relation to the corrupt forces that maintain them. 4. A clock that reads 9:21. September 21 is a significant date in Filipino history. In 2025, it was the date of the Trillion Peso March which was a mass protest held in Metro Manila, calling for accountability, transparency, and justice in response to the flood control corruption scandal. In 1972, September 21 was when then-president Ferdinand Marcos announced Martial Law, marking the beginning of his authoritarian regime. Over half a century apart, these two moments unveil a repeating pattern of corruption and unchecked power in the country. 5. Brokenness. The face of the clock has a crack on its side. One sampaguita string has snapped. While brokenness typically signifies hurt or damage, in this painting, it points to my hope for our breaking free from this injustice.

The Calling of a New Day
Ceramic sculpture
(24 x 30 cm)
The rooster’s crow welcomes each new day in the Philippines. I hear that sound with more than just the promise of sunrise, but the promise of a people ready to act with courage and to call forth a new dawn for the nation. I wish for us to rise as a people and to confront the problems of our times with a bold, defiant, and revolutionary cry.

Becoming
Oil paint on canvas board
(18x24 cm)
A bird that anchors to the ground yet reaches for the heavens is sundered between earth and sky. In splitting, there is both ache and emergence. It is the process of becoming.

The Indigenous Boy
Oil paint and oil pastel on canvas
(18x24 cm)
An indigenous boy from the Maitum tribe grows up in a community both culturally rich and geographically vulnerable due to local terrorist groups residing in the area. We had planned a solar lamp distribution trip together with the SendToGive team, which we ended up cancelling at the last minute due to reports of guerilla weapons discovered in that area. Fear had painted the town as unsafe, yet our teammates who continued with the trip came to meet one of the most well-preserved local cultures they had ever encountered. This disconnect reveals a larger issue of how negative perceptions often isolate communities, keeping them from the support and recognition they deserve. For a boy in Maitum, the question becomes urgent: will his future be defined by inherited risk and marginalization, or by the opportunity to preserve his heritage while shaping a better narrative?

The Relentless Pursuit of a Dream
Oil on canvas
(30x40 cm)
Randy Babiera is a Filipino fisherman who never finished high school. When his father left, he dropped out to help support his family. Now, at 50, Randy sits with pencil and paper, diligently studying through remote learning to finally earn his diploma. A high school degree may not dramatically change his circumstances at this stage in life, but his determination is a powerful reminder that dreams are worth pursuing purely for the personal desire to realize them. To me, Randy embodies what so many social entrepreneurs fight for: a world where everyone has the chance to realize their dreams, no matter the odds or the timing.