Friday, October 9, 2026
An overdue seaside escape, captured in little moments
It’s been ages since I last set foot in Boracay.
Long enough for the memories to feel a little hazy. Long enough for me to forget just how beautiful this island can be.
And then, suddenly, there I was again—standing by the water, watching the waves roll gently onto the shore, wondering why I had stayed away for so long.
A Little Escape
Boracay · October 2026
An overdue beach holiday.
For someone who is instinctively drawn to mountains, forests, and cooler places, I have to admit: the sea was exactly what I needed.
No grand plans.
No packed itinerary.
Just a few days of sunshine, saltwater, long walks, good food, and nowhere urgent to be.
Sometimes, a holiday doesn't have to be complicated.
Emerald Hours
The water was impossibly clear.
Crystal-clear emerald stretching toward the horizon, shifting shades with the changing light.
I spent far too much time simply looking at it.
There is something about the sea that makes everything feel a little less heavy.
The deadlines can wait.
The responsibilities can wait.
Adulting can wait.
For now, there is only the sound of the waves.
Beach Walks & Barefoot Days
There were no particular destinations.
Just walking.
Stopping whenever something caught my eye.
A boat floating quietly in the distance.
A coconut tree leaning toward the sea.
Clouds gathering above the horizon.
The occasional burst of laughter from somewhere along the beach.
The kind of ordinary moments that somehow become the best parts of a trip.
Sky Notes
Things I remembered to notice:
☐ The color of the water
☐ The clouds changing shape
☐ The warmth of the afternoon sun
☐ The sound of waves after sunset
☐ How good it feels to have absolutely nothing to rush toward
I think I needed this reminder:
Life isn't always supposed to be productive.
Sometimes it is enough to sit by the sea and watch the sky change colors.
Golden Hour
And then came the sunsets.
Dreamy skies painted in soft afternoon light, slowly turning warmer as the day faded.
Boracay sunsets really do have a way of making you stop whatever you're doing.
So I did.
I stopped.
I watched.
I took pictures.
And for a few quiet minutes, I wasn't thinking about work, plans, responsibilities, or what comes next.
Just the sunset.
Postcard from Boracay
Dear future me,
Remember this.
Remember how clear the water was.
Remember the warm breeze.
Remember walking without anywhere to be.
Remember how good it felt to step away from the noise for a little while.
And remember that you are allowed to take a break.
Even from your own life.
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A Few Days Later...
I left Boracay feeling lighter.
Not necessarily refreshed in the dramatic, new person kind of way.
Just... lighter.
Sometimes that's all a holiday needs to accomplish.
A little less stress.
A little more sunshine.
A few beautiful photographs.
And enough memories to carry home with you.
Until next time, Boracay.
I have a feeling it won't be another few years before I come back.
— Christy
Thursday, October 8, 2026
The cozy months are here. Celebrate the change of the seasons with one of the most famous autumn inspired poems from English poet and romanticist John Keats.
TO AUTUMN
John Keats (1795-1821)
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Tuesday, September 15, 2026
Inside an almost-empty IMAX theater, Oasis turns a rainy Saturday into a two-hour trip back to the ’90s.
There are movie experiences, and then there are the ones that make you forget you're sitting in a movie theater.
That was Oasis for me.
On a rainy Saturday, I booked an IMAX screening of Don’t Look Back in Anger through the SM Cinema app, taking advantage of the first National Cinema Day in the Philippines. With movie tickets deeply discounted nationwide, it seemed like the perfect excuse to spend an evening with one of the bands that defined my musical coming-of-age.
What I didn't expect was to have the theater almost entirely to myself.
There were just four of us in a 407-seat IMAX auditorium.
But once the lights went down, those hundreds of empty seats disappeared. The enormous screen came alive, the Dolby Atmos system kicked in, and suddenly I wasn't watching a concert film.
I was inside one.
For a docu-concert, IMAX is hard to beat. Every guitar riff had weight. Every drumbeat seemed to move through the room. And when thousands of Oasis fans erupted on screen, their collective roar filled the theater as though the entire arena had somehow been transported into it.
The film's visual language makes the illusion even more convincing.
Grainy, gritty and deliberately unpolished, Don’t Look Back in Anger captures the rough-edged aesthetic of the ’90s without turning nostalgia into a costume. The concert footage feels raw and intimate, while the editing gives the film the energy of an extended Oasis music video—part documentary, part spectacle, part time capsule.
Then come the cities: Cardiff, Seoul, Brazil, Mexico and the other stops on the reunion tour.
And suddenly, four people in an almost-empty cinema become irrelevant.
On screen, thousands of fans are crying, singing, dancing, hugging, drinking beer and completely losing themselves in songs they have known for decades. The emotion is infectious. This isn't simply an audience watching a band; it's an audience reconnecting with a version of itself.
That's where the cinema experience becomes something more than cinema.
From my seat, I felt as though I was moving from arena to arena with them. The scale of IMAX made the crowds feel enormous, while the sound put me right in the middle of the music. For two hours, Cardiff could have been Manila, Seoul could have been London, and that rainy Saturday outside the theater might as well have belonged to another lifetime.
And maybe that's the real power of Oasis.
The Gallagher brothers' famously turbulent relationship may have supplied decades of rock-and-roll drama, but watching the reunion unfold, I found myself less interested in the old conflicts than in what survived them.
The songs survived.
The fans survived.
The memories survived.
For those of us who remember Oasis at the height of Britpop, the songs aren't simply songs anymore. They're bookmarks in our lives—attached to friendships, romances, late nights, youthful ambitions and that particular ’90s feeling that the world was still wide open.
Watching an entire generation—and the generations that followed—sing those songs together makes that connection impossible to miss.
By the time the credits rolled, the petrichor scented evening felt almost poetic.
I had walked into the cinema on an ordinary Saturday and spent two hours somewhere else: in another decade, surrounded by thousands of strangers, with Oasis playing impossibly loud.
It was nostalgic without being sentimental, chaotic without being exhausting, and immersive in exactly the way a great cinema experience should be.
On a rainy Saturday, Don’t Look Back in Anger was quite literally an oasis.
And for two glorious hours, I didn't look back in anger.
I looked back with a smile.
Friday, September 4, 2026
When mall culture meets homegrown creativity, color and inspiration
Between weekend errands, coffee runs, and the usual little things that fill up a Sunday, it’s always lovely to stumble upon something unexpected—something that makes you pause, look a little closer, and forget where you were headed for a while.
That was Hanag: Emergent Perspectives for me.
Held at SM City Iloilo as part of the city’s 89th Charter Day festivities, the art exhibit curated by Taohay-NCCA director Elvert Banares offered a refreshing little detour from the everyday. The exhibit opened on August 17, 2026, and was extended until August 30, bringing together the works of Ilonggo artists and designers in a celebration of creativity, identity, and contemporary perspectives.
And what a treat it was to see homegrown talent take center stage.
Hanag featured works by John Francis Berber, Margaux Blas, Daniel De La Cruz, Peter John De La Vega, Kyle Francis Dile, Guijo Dueñas, Joshua Gabayeran, Peach Garde, Kyle Fermindoza, Martin Genodepa, Patrick Jamora, Carlo Juntado, Manny Librodo, Joemel Mirabuena, Renwil Portodo, Al Provido, Sabrec, and Edgardo Lopez Suelo.
There’s something special about encountering art in an unexpected place. One minute you’re thinking about what to have for lunch or whether you still have enough coffee at home; the next, you’re standing in front of a piece that catches your eye and makes you stop.
Perhaps that's one of the quiet joys of city life—beauty finding you when you aren't necessarily looking for it.
For me, Hanag was a welcome pause amid the weekend bustle. It was a chance to slow down, take in different interpretations of the world, and appreciate the creative voices emerging from our own corner of the country.
The exhibit also felt like a lovely reminder of just how much artistic talent Iloilo has to offer. Beyond our heritage buildings, food, festivals, and familiar city landmarks, there is a thriving creative community continually finding new ways to tell stories and interpret the place we call home.
And if you missed Hanag at SM City Iloilo, don't worry—you haven't completely missed your chance.
The exhibit is set to continue its journey to the Taohay Cultural Center and Regional Hub this September, giving more art lovers an opportunity to experience the collection.
So the next time you're out for a weekend of errands and coffee, keep your eyes open.
You never know what beautiful little detour the city might have waiting for you.
Wednesday, September 2, 2026
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From the soft, misty drizzles of London to the raging monsoon rains of the Philippines, rain hits differently depending on your latitude. Huddled in a corner in the freezing rain or taking refuge at bus stops to escape being washed away by tropical typhoons, rain can be both beautiful and terrifyingly dangerous. (That being said, I love London rain. It is such a vibe.)
I've always been a pluviophile. I love the scent of petrichor, the static in the air that heralds the fresh outpouring of rain. Spattering on rooftops or whirling like diadems across the pavement, I tend to romanticize the way rain seems to wash our beings clean of urban weariness and ennui.
Rain-fed memories and feelings rise to the surface on days when heavy clouds and dark skies make us especially nostalgic or vulnerable. I find myself longing for happier days when rainy afternoons meant splashing in puddles or enjoying a hot, steaming bowl of Maggi beef instant noodles. On stormy days, one of my favorite childhood memories was building forts out of pillows and blankets, then tucking my ragdolls in to sleep.
Nowadays, rain elicits both delight and anxiety: delight for the relief it brings from sweltering summer days, but anxiety at the thought of flash floods and all the dangers that can come with it.
Perhaps that is what rain has taught me—that beauty and danger can sometimes arrive together, falling from the same darkened sky.
So, wherever you are, wherever the clouds have gathered—
may your rain be soft,
may your roof keep you dry,
may there be something warm waiting for you,
and may the storm always pass.
May rain always be gentle with you.
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| Rain in Knightsbridge, London |
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| Rain in Ebisubashi Bridge, Osaka |
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| Osaka rain |
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| Rainy, glistening streets of Ginza |
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| Winter rain in Edinburgh |
Thursday, August 6, 2026
If you're just beginning your vinyl journey or looking to expand your growing record collection, PlakaMNL is an online record shop worth bookmarking. Known for its impressive selection of rare and hard-to-find albums, the store caters to both first-time collectors and seasoned audiophiles. Beyond vinyl records, you'll also find quality turntables, speakers, and essential accessories to help you build the perfect listening setup—all at prices that won't break the bank. Whether you're hunting for a beloved classic, an OPM favorite, or the latest reissue, PlakaMNL makes discovering your next treasured record an enjoyable experience. The shop also carries both brand-new and pre-owned vinyl, along with turntables and audio equipment from well-known brands, making it a convenient one-stop destination for music lovers.
Starter recos:
Saturday, July 25, 2026
Fourteen Ilonggo photographers reimagine the gallery experience, inviting visitors to move beyond observation and discover the quiet intimacy of photographs freed from their frames
There is something quietly refreshing about In Circulation, the latest photography exhibition at the Hulot Gallery of the Iloilo Museum of Contemporary Art (ILOMOCA). Featuring the works of 14 Ilonggo photographers, the exhibit invites visitors to experience photography in a way that feels surprisingly personal, less like walking through a museum and more like wandering into someone's treasured collection of memories.
Unlike conventional photography exhibitions, where images are carefully matted, framed, and kept behind glass, In Circulation embraces an intentionally unguarded presentation. Each photograph, printed on 8-by-10-inch photographic paper, hangs from jute strings and is secured with simple wooden clothespins. The arrangement has an effortless, almost nostalgic charm. It evokes the familiar sight of photographs drying after being developed in a darkroom or snapshots clipped to a bedroom wall, creating an atmosphere that is intimate, relaxed, and warmly inviting.
As you move through the gallery, the experience feels less formal and more conversational. The photographs seem to breathe together, gently swaying as visitors pass by, encouraging lingering glances rather than hurried admiration.
What makes In Circulation particularly compelling is its invitation to engage beyond simply looking. Here, viewers are encouraged to interact with the photographs themselves—a gesture rarely permitted in gallery spaces. The absence of protective frames removes both a physical and symbolic barrier, allowing a closer relationship between the audience and the images.
The exhibit statement beautifully captures this intention:
In Circulation attempts to renew the collective seconds that paused as captured images by transforming the gallery into a living, breathing space of shared experiences. The images do not exist in isolation but rather make sense through the intricate threads they have formed with one another. In the absence of frames, the photographs reveal their naked truths and are liberated from the confinements that hinder connection and co-existence. It mirrors our inherent capacity as ecological beings to form interactions, relationships, and ultimately, our shared contemplation. By allowing physical contact with the photographs, it encourages intimacy and proximity between the viewers and the moments taken amidst this fleeting world.
It is a thoughtful curatorial approach that transforms photography from something merely observed into something experienced. Without rigid frames dictating where one image ends and another begins, the photographs become part of a larger visual conversation. They speak not only through their individual subjects but also through the relationships they form with neighboring images and, ultimately, with every visitor who pauses to engage with them.
In an age when thousands of photographs disappear into endless social media feeds, In Circulation reminds us of the enduring power of a printed image. There is something profoundly human about standing before a photograph, seeing its texture, noticing its imperfections, and recognizing the fleeting moment it preserves.
More than a photography exhibition, In Circulation is an invitation to slow down, to reconnect with the tactile beauty of printed photographs, and to reflect on the invisible threads that bind memories, people, and places together. It quietly proves that some images are not meant to remain behind glass—they are meant to be encountered, shared, and remembered.
Wednesday, July 22, 2026
Three young musicians from Cagayan de Oro are quietly redefining Filipino progressive rock—crafting ambitious, genre-defying music that deserves a place on every serious rock fan's playlist
There is something thrilling about discovering a band before everyone else does.
Every once in a while, a young act emerges with a sound so assured and distinctive that it reminds us why we fell in love with music in the first place. At a time when playlists are increasingly shaped by algorithms and fleeting trends, Cyber Band stands apart by choosing musicianship over formulas and artistic exploration over instant gratification.
Hailing from Cagayan de Oro City, Cyber Band is a three-piece progressive rock outfit formed in 2019. The band is composed of singer-songwriter and guitarist Andrew Patuasic, guitarist, keyboardist and backing vocalist Isaac Villegas, and drummer, keyboardist and backing vocalist Cermund John Alcantara.
Inspired by progressive rock giants such as Rush, King Crimson, Queen, Mahavishnu Orchestra, and Filipino rock legends Juan Dela Cruz Band, the trio has created a sound that is ambitious without being pretentious. Their music effortlessly fuses progressive rock, jazz fusion, funk, classical influences, and melodic songwriting into compositions that are both intellectually engaging and emotionally rewarding.
What makes Cyber Band remarkable isn't simply technical proficiency, although they possess that in abundance but their remarkable musical maturity. Still in their early twenties, they compose with a confidence and sophistication rarely heard from artists their age. Having started their musical journeys in grade school, they have evolved with astonishing speed, each release revealing greater artistic depth than the last.
Growing With Every Album
Their debut album, In My Dumb Perspective (2020), captures the uncertainty and emotional intensity of youth through melodic, guitar-driven rock songs that remain refreshingly sincere. It is a modest beginning compared to their later work, yet already hints at the band's compositional strengths.
Tracks such as "Puso," "Kulay," "Ako Na Lang," and "Everything" showcase an instinct for memorable melodies and heartfelt storytelling. Among them, Puso remains a personal favorite for its emotional honesty and beautifully restrained vocal performance.
Cyber Band's artistic leap becomes unmistakable in The Light (2022), later released as an analog remaster in 2024.
This is the album where everything comes together.
Sophisticated guitar arrangements intertwine with adventurous harmonic ideas, dynamic rhythm changes, and fearless experimentation, resulting in a record that feels cohesive rather than overwhelming. Every song reveals another layer upon repeated listens, making it one of those rare albums that continues to reward the listener long after the first play.
The recognition was well deserved. The Light received Best Album of the Year at the Indie Musicians Music Awards in 2023, affirming what many listeners had already discovered—that Cyber Band was quietly becoming one of the country's most exciting independent acts.
Favorites include "The Light," "As I Sail," "Where Are You," "Wars," and "A Million Things." Together they form an album that invites uninterrupted listening from beginning to end.
Beyond Genres
Cyber Band's standalone singles further demonstrate the band's refusal to be confined by expectations.
"Don't You Ever Give Up" carries shades of post-punk reminiscent of early U2 while maintaining the band's unmistakable identity. It is instantly memorable, infectious, and the kind of song that quietly becomes your latest last-song syndrome.
Meanwhile, "Kilos Ka Na" proves that an anthem can deliver conviction without sacrificing nuance or musical sophistication.
Through the Passages of Time
Released in 2024, Through the Passages of Time is arguably Cyber Band's most ambitious work to date.
This is progressive rock in its purest form—bold, immersive, technically demanding, yet deeply emotional. Rather than chasing conventional song structures, the album unfolds like a carefully constructed journey, allowing ideas to breathe and evolve naturally.
Listening feels like stepping into an expansive cinematic landscape where every instrument serves the story. The arrangements possess an almost orchestral quality, remarkable considering they are created by only three musicians. Guitar passages soar with elegance, keyboards create rich atmospheric textures, and the rhythm section anchors every transition with remarkable precision.
The album's 23-minute title track is nothing short of extraordinary.
"Through the Passages of Time" is less a song than a musical voyage. It moves through shifting moods, changing tempos, intricate instrumental passages, and moments of breathtaking restraint, inviting listeners into a world where time seems suspended. Every section reveals another dimension of the band's creativity, rewarding careful listening rather than demanding immediate attention.
It is an experience that reminds us why progressive rock continues to endure—not because it is complicated, but because it allows music the freedom to become limitless.
Final Notes
Cyber Band is not merely reviving progressive rock for a new generation. They are quietly redefining what contemporary Filipino rock music can sound like.
Their music asks listeners to slow down, listen closely, and appreciate the craftsmanship behind every note. In an age of disposable singles and shortened attention spans, that commitment to artistry feels almost revolutionary.
If you've been searching for music that challenges, surprises, and rewards with every listen, Cyber Band deserves a place in your rotation. They may still be one of OPM's best-kept secrets—but perhaps not for much longer.
Follow Cyber Band on Spotify to keep tab on their discography and new releases:
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