I’ve always lived in two worlds at once.

For a decade, I was a signed recording artist—first with Narda under Island Records, and then with Duster, signed to Sony BMG in the Philippines. I played to thousands on arenas and in dimly lit clubs where the speakers crackled and the stage lights ran hot. I released six full-length albums, countless singles and EPs and two vinyl records while quietly building and running a studio. Art on stage. Operations backstage.

At 30, I immigrated to New York City.

Not because it was easy.
Because it was hard.

I was pushed toward America in search of a larger creative life—toward challenge, friction, and the possibility of meeting my heroes. Patti Smith (I saw her at Chelsea). Beastie Boys (onstage at Kings Theatre). Kim Gordon (passing through a tiny East Village café like a ghost between sets).

There is no stronger engine than arriving somewhere with nothing but hope and a refusal to be small.

Today, my work sits at the intersection of storytelling, design, and systems. I help brands and teams turn complexity into narrative clarity—and build the production engines that allow that clarity to scale. Not just one beautiful campaign, but a repeatable machine. Not just vision, but velocity.

From executive-level creative direction to building cross-time-zone pipelines (NYC ↔ Manila), my focus is designing work that is emotionally resonant, operationally disciplined, and built to outlast any single project.

Somewhere between running global production and raising a family, I started a microbakery called Flandora, crafting historical Filipino egg-based desserts like leche flan and silvana. Because storytelling isn’t only what you launch—it’s what you preserve.

And I still believe in the electric pull of a city that rewards those who arrive with hunger.