finding cain

What you see here is the hand-crafted magic of Renato Casaro, the late Italian designer who practically defined an era of cinematic cool. His work wasn't just advertising; it was art. Casaro's journey into becoming one of the most recognizable poster artists wasn't by chance; it was a pure obsession. As a kid, he was fascinated by billboards, trying to mimic the styles of Norman Rockwell and Angelo Cesselon. Think of a teen so determined that he was drawing right onto the walls of a local cinema just to snag a few free tickets. Casaro created posters for a lot of Spaghetti Westerns. His big break came with A Fistful of Dollars in 1964. The movie starred Clint Eastwood and was directed by Sergio Leone. The poster didn’t just promote the film; it helped make it a global hit. Naturally, Leone came calling again, commissioning posters for My Name Is Nobody (1973) and the epic crime saga, Once Upon a Time in America (1984). A Casaro poster is easy to spot because of his uniqu...

If there were a Michelin star for public murals, Roamcouch would have it. No debate. His art is an elegant contradiction; it stops you in mid-stride and makes you stare. You argue with what you see. He works with scenes from everyday life, nothing fancy, then drops them into backgrounds full of playfulness and surprise. His murals feel like small rebellions, and they insist on being noticed. Here are some of his recent street art works. Roamcouch has a Facebook page and a website where you can find all his work.

  Most bags today look like they were produced by bored machines in a dimly lit factory. You can walk into any mall and find rows of identical leather (or “leather-like”) things, all claiming to express individuality. Ironically, though, they all look exactly the same. Then there’s Abby Verano . Her bags are not mere accessories; they’re declarations. Each one is hand-painted, touched by an actual human being with an imagination. Abby doesn’t just sell you something to put your wallet and smartphone in; she sells you a story, a vision, a little revolt against the tyranny of sameness.  Her tools are simple — brushes, acrylic paint, bags made from pandan leaves, and creativity. No duplicates. No clones. Just one-of-a-kind art pieces you can carry.

Street art has rewritten the story of cities. What used to be blank concrete now hums with color. It's not just rebellion—it's existence, declared in aerosol. Murals rise where billboards used to glare. Festivals sprout up, neighborhoods come alive, and what was once vandalism becomes culture. We have to thank the people behind this, artists like Dasic Fernández . The Chilean-born, New York-based muralist wants to make the world more colorful. His works spill across continents—from Chinatown to Santiago to the desert of Diriyah. Each one transforms a gray, ignored corner into something radiant, impossible to overlook. While studying architecture in Chile, he became obsessed with how art could shape the city itself. Street art, for him, was the purest form of dialogue: direct, public, and alive. “Painting on the street,” he says, “carries great responsibility—both artistic and social.” Here are some of my favorites. Be sure to follow Dasic's Instagram for more.

Have you ever encountered a painting that, up close, is pure chaos—a riot of color, a tantrum of brushstrokes? Yet, take a few steps back, and suddenly, the mess organizes itself. As if by cruel magic or divine intervention, the disarray snaps into clarity. That is the experience of viewing the art of Montana Engels . Her work is a testament to this phenomenon. Up close, Montana's canvases appear as nothing more than abstract, hand-painted stripes. Then you move away. Instantly, the mess resolves into a stunning, realistic portrait. The technique is extraordinary, turning proximity into confusion and distance into focus. Montana wasn’t always a phenomenon. Her creativity was just a hobby. Then came Belgium’s Got Talent . Suddenly, she was noticed. Now, she's everywhere. If you have a Facebook account, you might want to follow her .

Coffee is more than a drink. It’s a lifestyle, a coping mechanism. And for some, it’s a medium. Yes, a painting medium. While most of us use it to fuel our questionable decisions, a select group of people are using it to make art. Real art. Painting with coffee isn’t new, apparently. It’s been around for centuries, which is about how long it feels when you’re waiting for a barista to spell your name right. But recently, coffee painting has staged a comeback. Artists, perhaps tired of the tyranny of acrylics and oil paints, or just broke, have rediscovered its charm. Take Nelsie Geografo , for instance. While I’m struggling to make my latte art look less like a disoriented ghost, she’s out there creating masterpieces with instant coffee. She doesn’t need fancy tubes of color or exotic pigments. Just coffee, water, and a bit of imagination. And the best part? The smell. While traditional painters suffer through the fumes of turpentine, Nelsie’s studio smells like a café that actually spe...

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.

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'...

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!