My desk, my rules.

The restlessness has struck again and fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), Squarespace doesn’t really make it easy for you to completely redo your site.

She’s nineteen when he gives her the first yellow rose. He’s 21, uncertain, hesitant.

“An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle. But it will never break.”

-Ancient Chinese Proverb

I saw this post on Threads asking people to share their random sensory quirks and, as with the others who shared their neurospiciness there, I realized I have more quirks than I thought I had. So, since I’m already thinking about what these are, here’s a quirky listicle of the things that drive me crazy (are listicles even still a thing? Whatevs.)

Glimmers are micro-moments of regulation that foster feelings of well-being.

She thought that at this age, the questions would no longer keep her up at night.

I’ve already established that cooking, for me, is pure experimentation, which is why I can never cook the same thing twice.

Hello, and welcome to my newly revamped blog! I don’t even know why I’m doing this but I’m enjoying myself and that is reason enough.

“I’m kurutuy-kutuying,” he says, getting up from his desk after nearly three hours of work.

It’s 9:30 am and she’s barely awake. Perimenopausal insomnia is its own kind of hell, even for someone who’s always been a night owl. Sleep is elusive and five hours have been her average for weeks.

A message from R, on his last day in Pangasinan

My annual journaling prep usually starts around October/November but for 2026, I dragged my feet until the last week of December. And it took me until only last week to finally narrow everything down to these four journals.

1. Letting go without guilt. Of things, of attachments, of emotions that no longer serve me. People-pleasing is its own kind of hell, and learning to let go is one step to healing.

I recently developed a severe allergy that left me with itchy rashes around my neck. According to my dermatologist, the culprit could’ve been anything - from our laundry detergent, to my perfume, to the dozen trinkets I insist on wearing around my neck.

From Oogy, Boogy, Woogy - the three wise gnomes from the south.

This recipe came about out of necessity, adjusted and perfected with love. 

This is still one of my all-time favorite poems, reminiscent of a chapter in another lifetime.

If your child goes no contact with you, refrain from going the usual route of questioning and blaming.

I'm on a Celeste Ng roll. After reading Everything I Never Told You a few months ago, I got a copy of Little Fires Everywhere which I finished reading last week, and currently, I'm on page 205 of Our Missing Hearts.

And my desk is a mess, but whatever. I'm actually having fun making art again, no pressure, just pure joyful flow.

In alphabetical order:

1. Art -- in all its forms --is, and will always be, life.

2. Black coffee and prayers are spiritual sustenance