Do what you love

Been re-exploring my love for photography this new year and took a photography class with a friend at the Garfield Park Conservatory. I’m also committed to being more creative and investing myself in doing more of what I love.

I enjoy focusing on vibrant colors, textures and unique patterns. I especially love capturing water–moving or still drops–it reminds me that life is fluid and regenerative and growth is everywhere. I appreciated being surrounded by supportive and inspired folks eager to improve their skills and harness their creativity in this medium.

Here are some of my favorite shots:


The Revival



When my grandmother passed away several years ago, I salvaged a few dusters from her boxes of belongings. Dusters are basically Filipino “house dresses” or in American terms, muumuus. I wanted to repurpose them, use the beautiful fabrics that use to adorn her silhouette and bring new life to my space. As I was leaving, my uncle says to me with one eyebrow raised, “What are you going to do with them?”
He was the guardian of all things she and my grandfather left behind. The eldest living son of 9 boys, his face softened, “Take care of them.” I was cradling the stack in my arm, the way I would books when I was about to check out at the library and said, “I will.”
I’ve held onto them cautiously, with the intent of being mindful of how altering their original form may diminish their value, somehow strip away her memory. What I realized today is that not doing anything with them at all has hindered me from accomplishing the very thing I set out to do.
To repurpose is to “adapt for use in a different purpose” and when I looked it at that way, it felt wrong, not meaningful enough. My intention all along wasn’t actually to repurpose, but to revive the pieces, to “restore to life or consciousness.” In doing so, I imagine her spirit transcending the limits of my memory, her strength and power continuing to inspire. And that brings me joy. That makes me feel whole.

Let It Flow

Last night, the sun was so vast and breathtaking as I was driving, I had to stop, get out and try to get some shots of it melting into the lake.

A flock of geese started to “honk” (just learned that sound they make is called that–I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t just google that) when I approached. So I didn’t get the shot I wanted because I wasn’t sure if they were going to attack me, but I did learn that geese “honk.” I am also reminded that capturing these beautiful moments and appreciating them for what they are, gives me so much life and allows one of my favorite poems to flow through me: