finding cain

Ever see art that makes you want to step right inside and look around? Meet Shih-Yu Lin, a Taiwan-born illustrator whose work does exactly that. I came home one evening, scrolling my phone, expecting just the usual noise. Then I found his drawings. His pictures burst with color and loose charm. They're lively, dreamy, and you can feel his happiness in every stroke. It’s rare to find art that doesn’t just show joy, but shares it—and I realized that’s what makes his work such a treasure. Shih-Yu was born in Taipei and grew up in Puli, a small mountain town that feels like a painting itself. After discovering his love for picture books, he earned an MA in Children’s Book Illustration from Cambridge School of Art in 2017. He’s been drawing nonstop ever since. Want to escape into a brighter, warmer world for a bit? Check out his Facebook . Don’t be surprised if you end up smiling the whole time.

Some pop songs are built to last. Boy Meets Girl's 1988 single, Waiting for a Star to Fall , is one of them. But here's the entertaining twist: no one wanted it. Songwriters Shannon Rubicam and George Merrill were already successful, having penned massive hits for Whitney Houston. Naturally, they offered the song to her, but in a famously baffling moment, her label boss, Clive Davis, said no. The song then floated to Belinda Carlisle, who even cut a demo, but she passed. Instead of shelving the track, Rubicam and Merrill made an act of quiet defiance: they recorded it themselves. That leap of faith changed everything. Their own version became a global smash and their one unforgettable entry into pop immortality.

Sometimes you want a reminder that there are still good things in the world. The Amazonian Manatee Rescue Center in Iquitos, Peru, is a unique nursery for orphaned manatee calves. These gentle giants arrive frail, often due to hunting or habitat loss. Caretakers provide intensive care, including underwater bottle-feeding and lessons in swimming and foraging. Their ultimate goal is to return the manatees to the wild rivers of the Amazon, giving this vulnerable species a second chance.

The Museum of Salt and Pepper Shakers in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, is home to over 20,000 pairs of these tiny table companions. The collection began in 2002, thanks to Andrea Ludden. Her quest? To celebrate the wild creativity that turns something as ordinary as a shaker into miniature art. Andrea actually started out collecting pepper mills back in 1984, but the shakers quickly stole the show (and her shelves). Originally tucked away in Cosby, the museum found its new home in Gatlinburg’s Winery Square in 2005. And the fun doesn’t stop there. Andrea’s passion went international in 2010 with a sister museum in Alicante, Spain. WATCH:

There was a period in my life when I spent a considerable amount of time hanging around bars in Manila. I had friends who were musicians, and I'd go watch their gigs. After they wrapped up, our usual move was to head over to Marcy's house in San Nicolas to just chill. What makes San Nicolas special is that it’s considered a heritage district of the city. Even now, you can still see these 19th-century ancestral houses, which were home to wealthy businessmen, artisans, and craftsmen. I have such vivid memories of wandering through those narrow alleys. You’d hear the neighbors chatting away, and you could see this amazing mix of history and everyday life happening all at once. Honestly, it makes me a little sad to see how much time and modernization have changed San Nicolas. Those gorgeous wooden houses with all their intricate carvings are slowly disappearing. What used to feel like a living museum of Manila’s heritage is really struggling to hold onto its unique identity now.

Gravity Art Space just dropped ANTHOLOGY —and it's a total art overload (in the best way). We're talking six shows happening all at once, packed into every corner of the gallery. Teaming up with the UP Artists' Circle, they're digging into how art runs in families—the creative DNA that passes from mentors to students, friends to friends, and one generation to the next. It's all about that shared obsession with making things, no matter what. Opening night felt like a big family get-together. Artists, curators, and friends—both old and new faces—were catching up and low-key planning their next masterpieces. The rooms buzz with everything from loud, in-your-face pieces to quiet works that pull you in if you let them. If you're anywhere near Diliman, drop by. Go see the beautiful chaos. ANTHOLOGY runs until November 21, 2025.

Yesterday, just across the street from a coffee shop near the town square, someone caught my attention. A girl, no more than sixteen, though perhaps younger, appeared on the sidewalk with her dog. She wore a beautiful sundress, the kind that sways gently in the late afternoon breeze. She was striking — mixed race, maybe a European father and a Filipina mother — and there was something about her aura, the way she moved, that reminded me of a ballerina from a Degas painting. For a moment, I couldn’t quite place what it was that drew my gaze. I’m forty-six, married, a father of two. It’s been years since the sight of a stranger has stopped me mid-step. But there she was, and I felt a quick, disorienting pull — not love, not even lust in the conventional sense, but something more confusing. She walked into a nearby pizzeria, her dog trotting obediently beside her. I followed — not out of any conscious decision, but more out of curiosity, the kind that makes us read the ending of a story ev...

I'm an anxious man who worries about a lot of things. So, the last thing I need is a high-maintenance houseplant. Every botanical enthusiast, even a reluctant one like me, has their holy grail, and right now, my current fascination is the Euphorbia obesa. When you first see this thing, you'll think it's fake. It's a perfectly plump, seamed sphere that looks entirely sculpted and belongs in a museum. This rare succulent, sometimes called the "baseball plant," hails from South Africa. It is wonderfully low-maintenance and can happily go months, perhaps even years, without a drop of water. It's a perfect organism, really. It doesn't need constant affirmation, it doesn't bark at 2 a.m., and it doesn't require a subscription. I want the Euphorbia obesa to be my new housemate, and if I get one, I think the relationship might actually last. Assuming, of course, that I don't overwater it or accidentally knock it over during a panic attack.

Have you checked out the new airport in Cambodia? It's not just a place to catch a flight; it's a total cultural experience the moment you step off the plane. Instead of the usual glass-and-steel box, this airport is deeply rooted in Cambodian culture. I'm talking about the roof, which has this cool, undulating (wavy) form that's a direct architectural shout-out to the iconic temples and palaces of the country. Passengers are also greeted by 200 hand-crafted sculptures, including a central bronze-cast Buddha. But here's the best part: the terminal is going to be almost entirely run on energy generated by a nearby solar farm. I mean, how often do you get to fly through a beautiful, culturally-inspired building that's also practically powered by the sun? WATCH:

The mall is a necessary evil—a glorious, air-conditioned balm against the relentless Philippine heat. But sometimes, a person needs a place that’s a little more soul-nourishing than retail therapy. What if your next cool, indoor escape was packed not with disposable items, but with beautifully bound, centuries-old ideas? Enter Libreria Palazzo Roberti in Northern Italy. This isn't just a bookstore; it’s a 17th-century sanctuary that once hosted Napoleon Bonaparte himself. Today, this magnificent structure has been lovingly restored, trading imperial guests for literary treasures. As you step inside, you’re greeted by original Venetian terrazzo floors, plaster walls that whisper centuries of history, and the gentle, stylish glow of elegant Louis Poulsen lamps illuminating rows upon rows of Italian and international titles. Run by the Manfrotto family since 1998, this three-story cultural powerhouse is pure la dolce vita for book lovers. You don’t just shop here; you wander through ...

Happy 30th birthday to The Smashing Pumpkins' monumental double album, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness ! I was a fresh-faced 15-year-old in 1995, deep in my grunge phase—right before Boyz II Men swept me off my feet. Let's be real: when they announced this two-disc, 28-track opus, it felt less like a new album and more like an act of war against the listener. A double album from an alt-rock band in '95? That was commercial suicide on an epic scale, a towering self-regard previously reserved for the likes of Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin. Billy Corgan, fresh off the success of Siamese Dream , cashed in all his artistic capital for this two-hour obligation. This wasn't a creative endeavor; it was a doctoral dissertation on Gen X angst. Listening to it felt like being forced to read a particularly dense biography of Pablo Picasso—you admire the person, but you desperately want it to end. Take Porcelina of the Vast Oceans . Nine minutes. Nine minutes! It drags you from ...

The current art pieces on display at Galleria Nicolas in Alabang Town Center are incredibly calming. The moment I walked through the doors, it felt as though someone had hit the slow-motion button on my brain. An immediate, overwhelming sense of peace washed over me—not the boring, sleepy kind, but a quiet, deeply centered feeling. The artworks seemed to gently whisper, "Chill out," without being preachy. They weren't vying for attention; they were simply there, inviting one to look closer and truly take their time. The pieces themselves are simple and exceptionally classy, yet they possess an incredible depth. It's that wonderful feeling when you see something beautiful but cannot quite articulate why it affects you so powerfully. A lot of the art is what I'd call conventional—familiar themes, perhaps a little sentimental. But here's the good part: they take that conventional style and supercharge it, giving it new emotional weight. And the colors? They'...

I recently stumbled upon the work of Margritt Martinet , whose drawings are giving my brain a delightful yet exhausting workout. This French artist, you see, deals in the glorious, mind-bending borderland between the organic and the futuristic. She doesn't just create art; she crafts entire visual universes that are so immersive and dynamic you feel like you should be wearing a spacesuit just to look at them. My mind simply cannot wrap itself around the sheer volume of focused physical labor that goes into these things. The pieces are intricate, layered, and incredibly consistent. But what truly inspires—and simultaneously mocks—me is her patience. This, my friends, is the real superpower. I once attempted a similar large-scale, intricate project. It started so well: my early lines were sharp, and my geometric shapes were perfect. Then, slowly but surely, as the hours stretched and the cramping started in my wrist, the inevitable descent began. The sharp lines became... a little mo...

Come See Me in the Good Light follows two poets, Andrea Gibson and Megan Falley, as they confront an unimaginable challenge: an incurable cancer diagnosis. Hearing that premise, you might instinctively think, "Hard pass, I'm looking for something light." But here’s the catch: the film is described as a perfect blend of poignant honesty and unexpected humor. Instead of wallowing in darkness, these two transform their pain into an electric, joyful purpose. The result is a profoundly powerful celebration of resilience and their partnership. This isn't a story about losing a battle; it’s about winning by remaining relentlessly and authentically themselves until the credits roll. It is one of those rare documentary pieces that truly touches the soul, leaving you with a deep desire to connect with your loved ones and feel things fully. Come See Me in the Good Light hits select theaters and streams globally on Apple TV on November 14, 2025. Check out the trailer below:

The Our Lady of Lourdes Chapel in Filinvest City, Alabang, is a beautiful, modern landmark known for its unique, nature-centric architecture. Inspired by an inverted white lily, the chapel's graceful curve stands in beautiful contrast to the sharp angles of nearby corporate buildings, symbolizing the purity of the Virgin Mary. Since opening in 2023, its towering design appears to open toward the heavens, creating a profoundly serene atmosphere. More than just a place of worship, the chapel is a community hub with a big heart. It actively supports charitable causes, including Elsie Gaches Village, a facility for kids with developmental disabilities. This architectural gem is a must-see, combining stunning design with a genuine mission of good. I highly recommend a visit.

There’s a new Pop Mart flagship store in Bangkok. It’s being called "dreamlike," but I see it as more like walking straight into someone else’s mushroom trip. According to UrDesign , the place is "meticulously organized to guide the visitor through a psychological journey, unfolding from the exterior to the interior and from the ground floor upward." I don't know what they mean by that, but it’s an absolute mecca for Labubu fanatics. For those who haven't been subjected to them, a Labubu is a collectible toy inspired by Nordic folklore, distinguished by its slightly devilish facial features. Now, personally, I hate Labubus. But for the devoted adults out there—and I know you exist—this store is custom-made for you. You'll find your treasure here. The whole phenomenon brings me to the point: Why the obsession? Why are adults so aggressively craving these things? It's simple, really. It’s a temporary fix. It's something we passionately embrace for ...

ManilART didn't start as anything special—just another art fair. Galleries, new artists, and old masters all showed up to hang their work and make some cash. It was functional, but utterly forgettable, like a plain white wall. The organizers looked at that "basic market" and declared, "Nope. We're going bigger." They didn't want a mediocre local show; they wanted a bridge to launch Filipino artists onto the international stage. Today, ManilART is a sophisticated hub. It's not artworks hung side-by-side like strangers; it's an electrical surge of creative collaboration. And it's the collision of different disciplines that creates magic. They truly get it: The exchange of ideas across different creative fields is the whole damn game. They aren't just selling art; they're stirring the pot and letting the sparks fly. They took a simple concept and gave it personality, and in art, that's everything. See you next year!