All Posts

For nearly two weeks, Las Vegas endured relentless 110-degree heat—the kind that feels stifling, scorching, and endless. We braved it, sweated through it, and waited for the desert to finally give us a little relief. And then the weather began to shift. Cool misting rain arrived, clouds started gathering and moving across the sky, and suddenly the evenings were putting on spectacular shows. After all that heat came dramatic cloud work, softer air, shifting light, and some tru

Morning after morning, the same sun rises over a completely different sky. I never quite know what I am going to get. Some mornings begin quietly, with the pale blue light kissed by clouds that reflect the color of the sun as it spreads across the horizon. Others arrive dramatically, with clouds catching fire in shades of gold, orange, pink, and red. The best part of my day often happens before the day even begins, in that small window when the world is still asleep and there

The second part of Searching for Faerie, Finding Me is not a happy part of the story. The dark and difficult search for answers at a time when hope is hidden and there is only uncertainty is an uncomfortable state. But happiness is never quite as bright without the experience of some dark times as contrast. We understand light because we have experienced darkness. We appreciate the hills because we have valleys. The morning is a welcome sight after the long hours of darkness.

As I prepare to share the first part of the book Searching for Faerie, Finding Me, I feel deep gratitude — not only for the finished book, but for the first few lines that allowed the entire story to emerge. Before there was a complete story, illustrated pages, or a second edition, there were only a few words that came to me unexpectedly in the middle of the night. I still remember exactly where I was. It was around three o’clock in the morning, and I was working a private-du

Three years ago, I completed the first edition of Searching for Faerie, Finding Me. Finishing it was an accomplishment—the moment I fulfilled my dream of self-publishing a book . That first edition gave me the courage to begin the slow process of birthing into the world and eventually growing a book. Time passed that allowed me to zoom out, and now see with better focus. Looking back now, I can see where the writing could be stronger and where the illustrations, though meanin

When I look back at the skies I photographed in 2020, I remember far more than sunrises and sunsets. It was a year of uncertainty, fear, and loss—but it was also a year of change, healing, and unexpected gratitude. The pandemic forced life to slow down, and in that stillness, I began listening to what had been waiting quietly within me. I started drafting Searching for Faerie, Finding Me and soon began painting it. We hunkered down in our condominium, grateful that it kept us

I didn’t take a lot of videos before because I always preferred photographs—single moments captured and preserved in simple images. Recently, however, the kids introduced me to time-lapse photography, and I decided to try it and I absolutely love it! As soon as I wake up, I place my phone on a stand facing the eastern sky and begin recording. While it quietly captures the sunrise, I continue with my morning activities. Two or three hours later, I stop the recording just befor

In 2016 and 2017, I continued photographing the skies and the changing light. When I was organizing the photos, I noticed that I took only a few photographs. I was working all the time and rarely giving myself enough time to pause, look up, and admire the sky. Still, scattered among those demanding days were a few rare moments of admiring the sky. And even though there are only a few photographs, the stunning beauty of the few photos make up for it. Reminded me that in this s

After sharing my collection of sunrise and sunset photographs from the past thirteen years, I decided it was time to do something more with them. Instead of allowing these images to continue languishing in numerous folders, devices, hard drives, and digital storage spaces, I began gathering them together and turning them into videos. The first video brought together photographs from 2012 and 2013—the beginning of this unexpected collection. While some photos brought tears, so

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 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