Sihay

Mabuhay! 🌾

Proud to be one of the exhibiting artists of the Philippine Botanical Art Society for ANI: Our Assets, Natural Heritage, and Cultural Identity, opening to the public on August 30, 2025 at the National Museum of Natural History, Gallery XII.

This year-long exhibition is part of the global initiative Botanical Art Worldwide 2025, celebrating the beauty of our Philippine biodiversity through Filipino botanical art.

Huge thanks to the National Museum of the Philippines for this collaboration and for making this project happen.

May this exhibition awaken pride and responsibility for protecting our native flora.

Para sa kalikasan! 🌿

I read books, and I was a professional writer at one point -- technically still am -- yet I haven't quite figured out the right words to ask for simple things. Can you stop being mean to me? Is your kindness genuine? Can you lend me that jacket? I'm cold.

5 years ago, I was a hyperindependent overachiever, until I learned in therapy that was survival, not a healthy way of showing up in the world. So I swung the other way, and little by little, learned how to show vulnerability, to ask for a hug, to tell someone I'd rather stay in bed than hang out, that I'm tired. You know, things a normal person is supposed to say. The one thing I still stuggle with though is to ask for someone to hold my hand. There's a vulnerability in that that I can't quite reach -- like a child who's scared of the dark.

Sure enough, almost on cue, people started labeling me as a princess -- soft, weak, someone to push around and take advantage of. Five years of learning what's supposed to be healthy and being crucified for it. What's worse is, because I was told to "learn to live in my body, scan for pain, stay connected," I feel the weight of it more. Things that wouldn't have me flinch before will summon the waterworks instantly now. They say that's healthy, that your body is reacting normally to a traumatic event.

Every so often, I wonder if it’s worth it. I feel betrayed that I was asked to break down my walls for a world of hurt. Everyone seems curious about what's inside, until you show up as a tender blob. And since not everyone has the emotional capacity to hold space for a tender, princessy blob, you're left to float around.

I lose track if this is the neurodivergence or the sensitive post-therapy version of me or the "artist brain," but I've learned now why even with all these talk about mental health, some people still cling to the brash, hard exterior they needed in their past lives. Not that I'd want to go back to that version of me (because that's also exhausting in its own way), but I do get it. Let's stop asking people to bare their souls and "act healthy" in a sick world.

Will you hold my hand as I drown?
Sihay, 2025

Since early this year, I’ve been dreaming about this fawn. He seemed friendly, even scared. I remember always wanting to get close to him because he’s too cute and seems to need help with his antlers — they were comically big for his body. I wanted to play with him, but he had such sadness and heaviness in his eyes; it’s heartbreaking.

Another night, another dream, and it’s the same story. I try to be close to him and get poked and scratched by his antlers. So after a while, I just laid on my belly, and he did the same. Grass was cold, he’s still sad, and we just laid there locking eyes.

I remember saying, “You’re alright. You’ll grow into it.” And he stood up, and folded his giant antlers like angel wings. Then I got to pet him and play with him.

I’ve been a lucid dreamer for as long as I can remember, but some dreams seem to cross the veil between dreams and reality. I can feel when a dream is spiritual. I needed to look inside and check where in my body I could feel the impact of the dream. While still half-awake, I felt my temples throb. It was my migraine. I was chronically overstimulated by light and sound in the past few months. Things were getting heavy, and I don’t feel ‘big’ enough to carry them all — at least not yet.

But just as a fawn can’t cut off its antlers, I can’t cut off the things that are a part of me. I needed to learn to carry them, get used to the heaviness, even when my legs shake, and hopefully, one day, get strong enough to be worthy of them. Deers don’t really use their antlers unless there’s danger. Perhaps that’s why we need to learn to walk with such weight on our heads. So we’d be ready when danger comes.

I learned that deers are messengers from the ether. Maybe that’s who he was. He could also be my patronus — who knows. Since then, whenever I feel my antlers get heavy, I tell myself what I told the fawn.

“You’re alright. You’ll grow into it.”

Getting too heavy

Sihay, 2025

Experience the beauty of Philippine native plants through art!
We proudly present the Virtual Gallery of – Philippines, featuring stunning works by Filipino artists dedicated to our country’s unique flora.

Watch the full video of Ani: Our Assets, Natural Heritage, and Cultural Identity Virtual Walkthrough here:

https://youtu.be/-zAgkreUjRQ?si=Og-ljNayke3HA3-f

Let’s continue celebrating our natural heritage through art and advocacy.

Ani: Our Assets, Natural Heritage, and Cultural Identity Virtual Walkthrough Ani: Our Assets, Natural Heritage, and Cultural Identity is a collaborative exhibition by the National Museum of the Philippines and the Philippine Botanical...