
This installation is made of 144 tiles, each holding a small story, memory, or symbol from everyday life. Arranged like a puzzle, the tiles show how ordinary objects and moments come together to form a bigger picture. There is a saranggola built with siblings in childhood, a grain of palay bowing humbly to the land, s'mores quietly prepared at dawn, and sold to classmates in school. The magtataho, sorbetero, and countless workers remind us that much of what we have is built on their quiet labor, daily acts of perseverance that sustain us. May their stories guide us toward a future where equal rights and equal opportunities are shared by all.
An olive branch carries the hope for peace and solidarity in Palestine and beyond. A bayong weave recalls the pandemic-a time of loss and fear, but also of kindness and shared abundance. And a pile of labada left untouched on rainy days reflects the small, ordinary rhythms of life that quietly continue.
The number 144 is often seen as a symbol of wholeness and balance. Like these tiles, life is made of many small pieces-changing over time yet always part of something bigger. It reminds us that even as we grow and move through life, we already hold a quiet sense of completeness, wherever we are.
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- Patreng Non












I've named this three-painting series of mine "eyes on the road" to describe the personal journey l've had as not only an artist, but as a person trying to find her place in the world. We're all trying to get to some destination, and growing up I've always felt that there were more sets of watchful eyes as I embarked on my own trip-names to live up to and expectations to meet.
But as I take these silent car rides, getting from one point to another, I've started to notice just how many other cars there are on the road, how many other roads there are in the city, and how vast the world is as we all continue to exist at the same time, getting to our own destinations at our own pace.
I don't need to carry the weight of every gaze. I'm free to just allow my imagination to run its course, to create create create and to see the world as I make it. If I fixate on the eyes on the road watching me, then I fail to keep my eyes on the road and end up missing out on the journey that's mine alone to take.
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- Kahlo Imao

Kahlo Imao
be a goldfish
acrylic on canvas
24 x 24 in.
2025
PHP 36,000.00

Kahlo Imao
eyes on the road
acrylic on canvas
24 x 24 in.
2025
PHP 36,000.00

Kahlo Imao
just a little detour
acrylic on canvas
24 x 24 in.
2025
PHP 36,000.00

Kahlo Imao
Tripping 1
resin and acrylic
9.5 x 10 x 11 in.
2025
PHP 32,000.00

Kahlo Imao
Tripping 2
resin and acrylic
9.5 x 10 x 11 in.
2025
PHP 32,000.00

Kahlo Imao
Tripping 3
resin and acrylic
9.5 x 10 x 11 in.
2025
PHP 32,000.00
Prints (Water Bearer | Grounded)
The act of making mutiples resembles an affirmation, a reminder of who I am as a person. Each layer grew from a wood as strong as my values, then transferred onto a piece of fabric as soft and delicate as my heart. Everything I have experienced (thoughts, feelings, moments), same and different, fleeting yet lasting, they come and go but they belong to me. They make me who I am. (1 am. I am. I am.)
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Paintings (Carrying Weight | Fleeting Senses)
Everything is fleeting. But what is this desire to capture every single moment? Why do I want to hold on to it? Is it a bad thing to hold on?
I attempt to capture everything-the images, words, feelings, yet it's not the same. It never turns out the same. Still, I do it. To capture something is to cherish it. To have something to hold onto gives me hope. Hope that, despite the fleetingness and impermanence of things, there is something out there that yearns to stay and be remembered.
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- Michelle Alde

Michelle Alde
Water Bearer
woodcut on tulle
25 x 21 in.
2025
PHP 15,000.00

Michelle Alde
Grounded
woodcut on tulle
25 x 21 in.
2025
PHP 15,000.00





