Some stories begin with a camera.
Mine began with a hunger to see and to be seen.

I was one of the first. When Manila’s creative youth began carving its name into the digital space, I was already there. Framing light, chasing silence, capturing the raw texture of becoming. At twenty-one, I shot my first billboard. Before I could finish my degree, I was leading the digital renaissance of one of the country’s biggest fashion empires.

From blog posts to boardrooms, I moved quickly. I helped shape the rise of SM Youth, launching campaigns like SM Youth Go-See that defined not just a brand, but a moment. I carried both the lens and the language of what Filipino fashion could be. Bold. Intimate. Unapologetically ours.

And then, I stepped away.  Not to disappear, but to listen. To grieve. To rebuild.

I entered quiet rooms. Board meetings. Family ventures. Real estate tables. Hospitality deals. I poured creativity into industries that rarely made room for feeling. But something inside me stayed untouched. A voice I had silenced for too long.

In 2025, I followed that voice to Bangkok. What was supposed to be a visit became a reckoning. The city held up a mirror and showed me the parts of myself I had abandoned in order to survive. It stripped me down. Then it called me back. To emotion. To intimacy. To truth. Bangkok did not just inspire me. It reopened me. I picked up the camera differently. I wrote like it was the only way to breathe. And for the first time in years, I no longer created to impress. I created to remember.

Today, I move between fashion and feeling.
Between image and memory.
Between Manila and Bangkok.
With one quiet mission.
To tell stories that last longer than trends.
To build a body of work that holds both beauty and truth.

I now live between the city that raised me and the city that changed me.
Between the version of me who once needed to be everywhere and the version who finally learned that being here is enough.