When life gives you infinite quarantines, grow your own fruit tree.

One of my most satisfying activities is tending my garden. My front yard is flourishing with culinary herbs, fruits, and vegetables, and I don't think I'm ever going to tire of seeing home-sown seedlings. Here's the newest addition to my plant family. I don't really like the taste of guyabano (soursop) but findings suggest that it could be beneficial for those with diabetes, which runs in my family. Who would have thought that I would get into gardening? I could barely keep a mung bean plant alive in science class. For me gardening is a stress buster, and it feels cool to eat stuff you grew yourself.

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She Knows You’re Looking

To be honest, the first thing I noticed in these portraits wasn’t the texture, the lighting, or the color palette. It was her. Who is she? Is she real, or is she imaginary? Does she have an Instagram? I was hooked right away. I mean, I’m a guy. So yeah, I felt something at once. If you caught yourself staring a little longer too, don’t worry. You’re not alone. In most of these Roberto Martin Sing pieces, she looks straight at you. Her gaze isn't aggressive, but it isn't shy either. It's more like she's saying, “Hi. I know you’re looking. It’s fine.” In one painting, the young woman is rising from the water with full nymph energy. Men have been falling for this stuff since ancient Greece. She’s the goddess in the forest or the woman in the lake. There’s soft light, glowing skin, and zero real-world problems. She looks very feminine without being flashy. Inviting without trying too hard. And you can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking. The work moves between contempora...

Where Bad Space and Good Music Collided

My first apartment was in Malate, and calling it “small” would be generous. I lived there with two girls and one guy, and to this day, I genuinely don’t know how we all fit. It felt like a magic trick. Or a health hazard. We were a musical mess. One roommate lived and breathed ’70s classics. Another was permanently blasting Korn and Slipknot. One survived solely on cheesy love songs. And me? I was floating somewhere between new wave and folk rock, pretending that made sense. Somehow, despite the noise and the chaos, we all lived together in this weird, mismatched harmony. No murders. No lawsuits. A win, honestly. My music taste now is nothing like it was in my twenties. Not even close. But I’ll always be grateful to Jacqueline for introducing me to this song in particular. It was playing when I woke up from a very memorable sleep in 2002. I was 21, half-awake, probably confused about life, and that song stuck. It still hasn’t let go.

Rapid-Fire

I was watching a replay of The Graham Norton Show the other night when this singer I’d never heard of completely grabbed my attention. Her name’s RAYE, and yes, I know I’m embarrassingly late to the party. I only discovered her a couple days ago, and now I’m a full-on fan. Her funk-soaked anthem hooked me right away. Her vocals are rapid-fire and confident, with just enough rasp to give the whole thing a playful, gritty kick.

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