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It has been three years since I first published Searching for Faerie, Finding Me through Amazon’s print-on-demand platform. At the time, simply finishing the book felt monumental. I had taken an idea that once existed only quietly in my imagination and brought it into the world in physical form. That alone felt like an accomplishment worth celebrating. But over the years, I found myself continually returning to the story as I painted on canvas. Certain lines questioned me, ce

As I stand in this part of my life, I feel something shifting. I am no longer standing only in the place of remembering. I am no longer looking back only to understand what was lost, what was dimmed, or what I had to survive. Those losses shaped me, yes, but I do not wish to build this season around them. I honor them quietly, then turn my face toward what is alive in me now. And what is alive in me now is creation.This is my season of creating - right now it is in creating t

As I write this, I am looking at photographs of flowers from my garden that only weeks ago were vibrant with color and life. Now, beneath the relentless summer sun of Las Vegas, many of their petals have faded, curled, and fallen away. The same garden that felt abundant in spring appears stressed and weathered beneath the sizzling desert heat. For a moment, it is tempting to see only what has been lost. Yet the flowers have not truly disappeared. Their season of blooming has

Father's Day has just passed, and as often happens this time of year, I find myself thinking of my father. Most of my memories of him are tied to nature. He loved sitting outside in the garden under the mango tree, and he loved watching the sunrise and sunset. I developed my own ritual of waiting for the sunrise, following his practice. The photos of him staring into the horizon, towards where Mt. Apo lies in the distance bring to me such a sweet ache as he watched the sun r

People sometimes ask me why I wrote Searching for Faerie, Finding Me. The answer has changed over the years, but today I think it comes down to one simple truth: I wrote the book I wish I had when I was a little girl. Not because I needed another story to read, but because I needed a voice beside me reminding me that I was enough exactly as I was. Growing up, I never felt deeply connected to the creative in me. The message I somehow heard was that I had to improve, to be bett

It makes me feel so sad seeing the devastation in cities in Mindanao after the earthquake. Having grown up there and called it home for most of my life, the fear and sadness feel deeply personal. I find it difficult to watch the constant images and stories, so I have stepped away from the news and buried myself in my work on Searching for Faerie. The earthquake may have shaken the land, but it cannot erase the love, memories, and resilience of the people who call Mindanao hom

Magic in the Making | The beginnings of Searching for Faerie

Today's amazing sunrise celebrated my father’s upcoming 90th birthday. My father Alan, was born in 1936, and even now, years after his passing, I still find myself tearing up whenever I think about him. Almost every sunrise from my balcony carries a quiet ache within it. The skies over Las Vegas shift through soft gold, lavender, pink, and blue, and my first instinct is often the same whispered thought: “I wish you could see this.” Sometimes the tears come unexpectedly. The q

Lately, I have felt deeply energized by Dan Koe’s encouragement to write essays — not simply to produce content, but to clarify thought itself. His call to action spurred me because it challenged the passive way many of us consume information today. We live surrounded by endless streams of fast content: quick reactions, emotionally charged headlines, recycled opinions, and algorithm-driven noise that grabs our attention. So much of it enters our minds without asking us to ref

When I first began imagining the painted Dream Edition of Searching for Faerie, Finding Me, I approached it very differently from how I do now. In the beginning, I became deeply drawn to intricate decorative patterns — swirling curls, flourishes, and delicate curliques woven into nearly every page and painting. At the time, I believed that style represented who I was artistically. I thought the work needed to look elaborate and uniquely “me.” Looking back now, I realize I was

Three years ago, Searching for Faerie, Finding Me began as a quiet leap into the unknown. I call it now the first edition but at that time it was just a story that needed to be told. It was not perfect, just my best effort. Prior to doing it in Canva - I had started painting it but it was slow work because I was writing and painting the story at the same time. At the rate I was going then, it seemed to me that it would take me about 2, maybe 3 years to finish the paintings. S

It’s been a while since I last created an update on my progress with the Searching for Faerie book. The last blog I shared about this book was March 18 of last year—thirteen months ago. A full stretch of time where life happened: work, family, responsibilities filling the space where writing once lived more freely. And yet, I’m not returning to this space empty-handed. I’m coming back with something I’m genuinely excited about—the second edition of the book is almost finishe

When I wrote Searching for Fairie, Finding Me , I took from pieces of my own journey—my bright, imaginative dreams, my moments of doubt,...

I painted a Four-Seasons series, and "Winter" was the one I gave away. It went to my classmate Bryan as he was leaving for Canada—where...

Loss has a way of settling in the spaces we least expect. It lingers in the quiet moments, in the empty chairs at holiday gatherings, in...

i no longer have this painting, donated for a cause, lesson in impermanence, no promises, just moving forward