The Soft Surprise of Belonging

Imagine a native wildflower growing through gray-toned concrete, or perhaps a kikik chattering loudly amidst humid forest environments, only to be considered a nuisance to society. 

Oftentimes, we find ourselves rather threatened—and even limited—by the unsettling notion of being the “odd one out,” alongside the external noise that seeks to silence our individuality and suppress the very traits that make us remarkably distinct.

Having spent 14 years in the halls of an esteemed Catholic school in Iloilo City, where girls are known to be graceful, soft-spoken, and extremely mindful of their knee-length plaid skirts lifting, I can honestly say that I have never really embodied that demure image. Growing up, I have always been the type who crosses her feet while sitting in fine dining restaurants, risks her life (and her parents’ blood pressure) for spontaneous, adrenaline-rushing adventures, and sees silly patterns or hidden meanings in the most ordinary things. I wasn’t really proud of my behavior, considering the numerous scoldings and disappointed remarks I had received from my peers. Yet despite my lack of poise or discipline, I found myself flourishing, somehow surviving every class and formative experience all the way through my last chapter in high school.

Grade 12 was the year I shed the most sweat and held-back tears, often feeling drained by personal struggles and left unmotivated until it was art class or finally time for departure. On August 5, 2025, Kikik Kollektive was invited by Assumption Iloilo to host an educational talk about their artivism journey and creative advocacy for our Contemporary Arts subject. I remember tirelessly dragging my feet to the venue, mostly because I wasn’t fond of social gatherings, especially those at 7 in the morning. I did not expect to remain fully alert and awake during the talk, yet I found myself being closely attentive and consistently intrigued by the origin story and outstanding projects of Kikik Kollektive. 

"Why did you change your name from Artivism Iloilo to Kikik Kollektive?" a classmate asked.

"One of the main reasons is this: in our travels, we noticed that in places where the natural environment is better, the sound of cicadas is louder, a sign of healthy biodiversity and seasonal balance. To us, that's a fitting metaphor. Just as cicadas live more in a good environment, artists blossom in a society that values and includes them - where their voices are heard," replied Ms. Kristine Buenavista, co-founder of Kikik Kollektive.

Seeing how art could empower activism, I felt a quiet spark within me being rekindled, as if my inner child was ceaselessly begging to be released, screaming, “Don’t hold me back anymore!” 

After their discussion, I courageously approached Nang Tin and Nong Marrz, admiring their advocacy and basically fan-girling over them. Before I knew it, I was already following their page, stalking their previous projects, and signing up for an upcoming workshop—even if I wasn’t much of an artist.

“Ang Kalibutan Naga Usbong,” a collage-making workshop held as part of Marrz Capanang’s solo exhibition: Mga Kalibutan/Realms, was the first Kikik Kollektive community gathering and workshop I joined. Centered on the theme “Iloilo, my local earth,” we created collages made of magazine cut-outs and other readily available materials to reflect our personal interpretations of Iloilo as a shared wellspring of life; a beautifully woven expression of art and imagery born from unique stories and diverse fragments of identity. 

For me, putting together different pieces of pictures felt like building a LEGO house brick by brick all over again. My mind was at ease, and my soul felt free, not only because of the creative flow state I experienced, but also because of the purpose that it carried. 

Surprisingly, I was chosen to present my collage and explain my work in front of an unfamiliar audience, as it was one of the pieces the facilitators found most appealing. There was no medal, certificate, or trophy involved, yet the recognition I received felt like a warm embrace I had been craving for since childhood, encouraging me to truly recognize and revive the part of myself I had long overlooked. As I spoke, I realized that my passion for art wasn’t merely driven by fun or boredom; it was grounded in purpose. Creating was not something I had lost—it was something I was simply learning to return to.

Around September 2025, I became a Kikik Katalyst, a humble member of Kikik Kollektive who sought to create change—to advocate for commUNITY through art. Though I was one of the youngest Katalysts, I didn’t feel like my age was a hindrance; it was more like an opportunity to learn, grow, and contribute meaningfully. My experience in art, on the other hand, made me question my role and significance in Kikik. Eager to develop my skills in writing and painting, I accepted Kikik’s invitation to join Linangan Art Residency, an alternative art school founded by Emmanuel “Manny” Garibay, a remarkable Filipino artist.

Linangan Sa Iloilo, a two-month cultural engagement program that lasted from October to December of 2025 at Iloilo Museum of Contemporary Arts (ILOMOCA), was an exclusive venue designed for emerging artists who desire to continuously hone their talents, explore fresh insights from various members of the art scene, and gain significant opportunities to exhibit their prolific works. Among the artists that joined the program were Anza Palma, Gelo Zarsuelo, Jeiel Crismundo, Jerome Fadrogane, Jheane Borja, Julia Borja, Jose Fraim Defacto Jr., Joshua Gabayeran, Kate Angeline Tillo, Kirby Majaque, Kisha Uygen, Kyle Dile, Kyle Jocson, Mann Cayona, Mimi Centino, Peter Dela Vega, Pong, Yanni Ysabel, and Ken Cadenas—a fellow Kikik Katalyst.

Being the youngest and least experienced in the room yet again, my senses were overwhelmed with fear and pressure. I was 17, a novice painter, and an amateur in the art scene. I didn't know how to create or curate high-end artworks back then, but I was curious. I didn’t participate much at first because of intimidation, but that didn’t stop or alter my imagination. I wasn’t professional, I was playful. 

No, I am not childish—but I am childlike. It is the very trait that transforms my worries into wonder, the obstacles I encounter into opportunities for growth, and my passion into purpose.

Through Linangan, I was exposed to the entire art scene and introduced to various Filipino artists, art curators, and collectors. I’ve learned about the diverse forms of art, and that there is no such thing as “ugly” in any sense. One’s definition of “good” or “beautiful” ultimately depends on their unique perspective, understanding, and capacity for appreciation. Others may interpret your work differently or even question it, but what matters most is your ability to stand by your art and justify the truth and sincerity with which it was created.

Art, furthermore, requires both an Aristotelian mind and a Platonic heart. One must master particular techniques and simultaneously have a nurturing spirit that is free-flowing with authentic ideas. For instance, light cannot exist without darkness; to understand how to illuminate a certain space, one must also learn how to shape and manipulate the shadows (and vice versa). In the same way, art is best expressed when it’s drawn straight from the heart, not by imitation or intimidation. It has no limits, just like we human beings are not confined to what we only deem as familiar and known.

As my Linangan journey drew to a close, I realized that the most remarkable artists to walk this earth are those unafraid to experiment with different palettes, venture into the unfamiliar, and embrace the unknown. Samo-Samo, the name of our batch in Linangan, concluded the art residency with an immersive and inspiring exhibit at ILOMOCA, where our shared experiences and diverse tapestry of personalities found harmony through one communal thread: a deep and unwavering passion for art.

I have lived through multiple moments of awakening and points of realization in my life, but none of them could amount to how art—how Kikik Kollektive—has rekindled the light I once thought was long gone within me. 

For years, I have relentlessly wrestled with this personality of mine, which has been labeled as “too sensitive” and “too playful,” constantly trying to suppress my emotions in fear of being judged by others. But through time and the right people, I began to realize that these traits were not weaknesses to be hidden, rather, parts of myself that gave depth to how I feel, create, and connect with others.

Working with Kikik Kollektive, a hardworking, honest, and humorous group of individuals, has not only led me back to my roots; it has nurtured me in ways that have allowed me to offer the fruit I bear back to the very community that has shaped my becoming. It has opened my eyes to a living world where art and humanity intertwine—where creation is not done in isolation, but in a shared rhythm with others who are attuned to the same pulse of righteous purpose.

May it be through zine-making activities in unfamiliar spaces, wheat paste murals under the scorching sun, or half-funny jokes I find amusing, Kikik has truly broadened my perspective and extended my reach beyond myself, fulfilling my desire to touch lives with genuine compassion and companionship. Because art is not only different hues of paint forming an image,  but a strong thread that weaves communities together. 

I have grown so much more in the past 6 months than I have in the past 6 years, yet some parts of me have never changed—like my ability to be moved by small joys or sorrows, to feel deeply, and to believe that simple moments can possess something extraordinary. And that’s okay.

So, if you feel that you buzz too loudly, don’t try to silence yourself. Instead, uphold that sound and notice how when you’re with the right people, you’ll only buzz louder; not becoming too much, but only ringing clearer. In a community, connection is not perceived as a mere coincidence but as something sacred.

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About the Writer

Yzah Calunsod is a witty, adventurous, and spirited only child—a living mosaic pieced together from every soul and situation she has encountered in her life. She is a passionate writer, empathetic student-leader, and aspiring artist who finds meaning in both creation and connection—someone who turns simple observations and interactions into genuine actions that reflect her unwavering passion for art and humanity. Through her refreshing childlike energy, she radiates warmth and wonder to those around her, enlightening their presence with different perspectives and forward-thinking opinions that can spark both curiosity and creativity.

About the Artist

Ken Cadenas is a figurative painter from Leon who developed a passion for drawing at an early age. He pursued Visual Arts through the Special Program in the Arts from elementary to high school, further honing his skills and artistic knowledge. Currently taking a Fine Arts degree, he continues to explore various art forms and participates in exhibitions each year. His work focuses on themes of identity and place, often addressing contemporary social issues through critical and thought-provoking commentaries. As a member of KiKik Kollektive, he engages in community-based projects and collaborations that strengthen his connection to the local art scene.