Sunday, March 2, 2014



It was the ticking countdown of meeting someone for the first time, being drawn to them, and then knowing, “I’m going to leave in a few hours. We may never see each other again. So you must say everything you want to say...”
And not saying it.

“Cheers,” he says to me, late one Monday night. We had long, extensive conversations, played our cards close to the vest, revealing nothing, but exposing everything in metaphors and fragments. There was a lot of trust and understanding, and magic. But the only time we had spent together, since we met, totalled to less than 24 hours.

“What are we cheers-ing to?” I ask.

 “To relationships that are doomed from the start,” he says laughing, knowing that in a few hours, he would be leaving. We knew how it would end, from the time it began. Clink.

 “Oh wait, I don’t think I want to cheers to that,” I say.

 “Too late, you just did.”


Photos from expired film on a rangefinder camera, and a rehashed story.


Sunday, January 26, 2014


What is it like to be left alone on a journey with your thoughts?

It's alright.
It doesn't niggle you like it does at 12 am on a Sunday morning.

The silence
sort of
begs you to just

The lack of conversation teaches you
to use your eyes
and your ears
the proper way.
How to feel

And then you learn to find wonder in the small things.
Like chasing a school of fish with your feet.

Or the incomprehensible, infinite things.

Like finding the same three stars in the sky
in whichever place in the world you choose to go.

This is Major Tom to Ground Control
I'm stepping through the door
And I'm floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today

Why do people choose to be stuck in their little bubbles?
The world has so much truth to offer.
She whispers them in fields.
  Screams them on top of mountains.
She reveals it in the crashing of the waves.

What is it like to be left alone with your thoughts?
Surprisingly, not very haunting at all.

Photos are from my 3-night solo trip to Coron, Palawan.

Sunday, June 9, 2013



Summer was inspiring. I found myself in different places immersed in art, new food, new people and new stories.
And at night, the glitter and grit of Manila was just cinematic.

An assignment for Esquire brought me to Kuya Kim's house to photograph the Mama Kinley painting by Alfred Esquillo which hangs on his wall.
Kuya Kim is quite the collector. It doesn't show in his amusing public image but his collection is so impressive.

On the left, Mama Kinley, photographed by Brian Bravo for Esquire's June art issue.
On the right, one of his pet dogs.
He also has pet toads.
His fetish for chairs is pretty cool too.

Then one whole Saturday afternoon in Pinto gallery.
I could spend forever in their gardens.
The owner, a neurologist, has an awesome collection too.
Funny, really. Art collectors come in all shapes and sizes.

Other photos like above by Lance and his magical mirror-less camera.

And then some happy Sunday things:
A tank camera. Some polaroids. Truffles from Sleepy Bear Sweets. A coffee table book.

And then Manila by night. Muy cinematique.

My pursuit to find the perfect muscat in Manila.
Note: found it already.

This couple:
She had a beer. He had a milkshake. None of them spoke a word, and they never looked at each other. They just sat there in silence, and for some reason I thought it was so beautiful.

Craft Coffee along Broadway street.
Amazing home-roasted coffee.

And a Sunday family trip to an anthurium farm. And a horse race breeder.

Planned by my mother who takes gardening to heart.

And then a weekend field trip to the National Museum with some advertising veterans.

I've lived in this city all my life, but this summer I saw it like I never have before.