Like mother like daughter :)

Some of my friends often wonder why I put scarf on my bag, this can be attributed to my mother, When I was younger I like to imitate her style as we call it in Filipino "may pinagmanahan". I also got from her my fondness for gold, shining and shimmering accessories. Mine is the pink one of course hehe but I like borrowing her things.:)

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“Ang Istruktura ng Edukayson para sa mga Kababaihan noong Panahon ng Amerikano 1925– 1945: Pagtuon sa Mga Naging Simulain ng Maryknoll Sisters sa Pilipinas”

Panimula Itinatatag noong 1912 ang Kongregasyon ng mga madreng Maryknoll sa Estados Unidos. Nanguna sila sa pagpapadala ng mga misyonaryo partikular sa mga bansa sa Asya. Si Sister Mary Josephine Rogers ( Mother Mary Joseph ) ang kanilang kinikilalang tagapagtatag sa tulong nina Bishop James A. Walsh at Father Thomas Frederick Price. Nauna nang naitatatag ng dalawang paring nabanggit ang grupo ng mga Amerikanong seminarista na nilayong magpadala ng misyon sa iba’t-ibang bansa. Tinawag silang The Catholic Foreign Mission Society of America . Sa paglipas ng mga taon mas kikilalanin ang mga miyembro ng misyong ito bilang mga Maryknoll brothers at sisters. Tatalakayin sa papel na ito ang mga naging simulain ng kongregasyon ng mga madreng Maryknoll sa bansa. Itinuring na mahalagang ambag nila sa kanilang pananatili ang kanilang mga itina...

2011 Bucketlist

Soon these will all be beautiful memories at least for me, nothing can best express one's feelings and sentiments than the written words. Looking forward to 2012 :)

A Poem of Self-Discovery and Women Empowerment

I paint to find myself, Each brushstroke listens before it speaks. Each color holds a feeling I didn’t know how to name. The women I paint are not strangers. They are reflections, echoes, possibilities. They carry softness in their posture and strength in their stillness. Some look outward. Some turn inward. All of them belong. When I paint, I give myself permission to be layered; bold and fragile, dreaming and grounded, unfinished and whole. I let my hands move before my thoughts, trusting that truth knows the way. Flowers bloom where words fall short. Hearts repeat what memory remembers. Night skies, flowing hair, and quiet gazes become symbols of becoming. Each canvas holds a moment of honesty; a place where I don’t have to explain myself to be understood. Empowerment, for me, is not loud. It lives in presence. In softness that refuses to disappear. In a woman standing in her own emotional landscape without apology. Through painting, I learn to tr...

Passionately Valerie

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