ROOT is where intention takes form. It is the weight of earth in hand, the scent of smoke rising in stillness, the touchpoint between past and present. It is fire meeting form, the ember that glows before it burns, the surrender to process and the quiet devotion of hands shaping something unseen into something felt.
Through ceramic vessels and incense offerings, ROOT speaks to the beauty of what remains, what lingers, what sustains. Each piece is an anchor, a quiet invitation to return—to presence, to ritual, to self.
Every handcrafted incense blend is a portal—a way to soften into the moment, whether it’s a slow morning, a reflective evening, or a deep breath in between. These incense love a companion, inviting you to light them alongside your everyday rhythm. Infused with the warmth of resins, the crispness of hand-picked herbs, and the quiet magic of Reiki, each blend fills your space with a living presence, carrying notes of earth, air, and intention.
mud & memory
handbuilt sculptures, from palm to earth
There is memory in the clay. A story held within the weight of earth, pressed between palms, shaped by touch. My hands know this language—one passed down in the quiet spaces between generations, between the land and those who tend to it.
As a Filipino immigrant, I have felt the ache of displacement, the longing for soil I no longer walk on daily. But I know my ancestors have left traces of themselves in the land—iti asin nga naipatakder dagiti ima dagiti mannallang, iti natangken a daga a napreskar ti ugma dagiti mannalon, iti tatak a naibilangda iti daga babaen ti panagtarabay, ob-obbo, ken panangipateg. (In the salt-streaked hands of fishermen pulling in the tide, in the furrowed fields tilled by generations of farmers, in the imprints they pressed into earth through labor, ritual, and care.) Though I shape clay from where I stand now, each sculpture is a quiet reaching—a way to dig deep into memory, to connect with where I come from, to honor the landscapes that raised me even from afar.
Our family home in Laoag City, Philippines
Each sculpture begins in stillness, a breath drawn deep, a moment of listening. The clay remembers what I do not, carrying echoes of the landscapes that shaped my ancestors. I knead, press, and form—not only to create but to recall, to honor the hands that came before mine. This is not just sculpture; it is offering. Maysa nga daton. An altar built from earth, a vessel for remembrance.
In shaping these pieces, I honor the act of holding space—both for the seen and the unseen. These works are for the ancestors, for the lineage woven into the land, for the moments that slip between words but live on in feeling.
Each sculpture is a touchstone, a way to remember. A way to call them home.