I completed this painting a few days ago. It’s part of the housing series I want to pursue, as moved by hearing stories of people in social housing and experiencing housing insecurity. I had been slowly learning about homelessness and housing insecurity in Lanark County in Ontario.

It’s a painting I ‘finished’ in 2018 but was not too happy with it anymore so started to paint over it, working through various stages of abstract work – layer, paint over, expose, compose, paint again, reveal, compose, add, subtract….

In 2018 it was called Moving Again, a reflection of the many times Kevin and I had moved to different parts of the world, and many times within a country too. The magic of art reveals itself as I searched for a title for it. I wanted to reflect the intention of the painting – showing the different house facades and the essentials or treasures people carry with them as they move, are forced out of their homes, or repeatedly relocate. Giving a painting a title is a big deal for me (as for many artists) as it reveals intention, motivation, inspiration and message and allows the audience to engage in what transpired in the artist’s mind as they created the piece.

I mulled title combinations but couldn’t find the right one, so proceeded with putting the nuts and bolts: wire hanger, signature – when I saw I painted ‘Moving Again’ at the back of the canvas. After many iterations, the painting’s original title was still apt. Moving Again.

Much as the revelation was a small thrill, I completed this painting at a very emotional time. The Philippines experienced 5 devastating storms in a period of 3 weeks. Just after a smaller typhoon, Typhoon ‘Rollie’ got international attention as Typhoon Goni, the strongest landfalling typhoon ever recorded with maximum winds of 315 kph (195mph) and 10-minute sustained winds of 220kph (140mph). It devastated parts of the Philippines, killing many and destroying infrastructure. Typhoon Sionie came a few days later, then Typhoon Tonio. But Typhoon Ulysses (Vamco) was the kicker. It made landfall on November 11. Although it was not as strong as Typhoon Rollie, it had devastating winds and a torrent of floods. The capital, Metro Manila was a direct hit. It wreaked havoc in many areas including Cagayan and Isabela provinces where it exited.

Ulysses completely submerged large parts of the capital, including Marikina City and particularly the small community where I grew up. We call residential developments in the Philippines ‘villages’. Often they are gated communities. I grew up with friends and relatives in that community who are dear friends to this day. Their parents are like uncles and aunts, their siblings, our friends, their stories, happiness and sadness intertwined with ours. The flood that Ulysses brought completely demolished that community. The river that practically encircles our small ‘village’ rose a record high of 21.7 meters, inundating the streets, houses, garages, destroying everything. Relatives and friends fled to their rooftops. Later they were rescued by overworked navy, police and municipal workers. When the water subsided, and the morning came, residents were shin-deep in mud in houses that were shattered. All their belongings, cars, appliances, beds, rendered unusable. Many rejoiced anyway for surviving the flood. Relatives uploaded photos of smiling faces, relieved to have survived, rejoicing in seeing another day. Such is the indomitable spirit of the Filipino.

Ulysses is not a one-off. In 2009, another devastating flood flowed through, making my own family flee to the rooftop of our two-story house. Soon after, we decided we didn’t want our parents to experience that again. There was already a pattern of floods in the community. My parents, brother and sister and their family moved to a new house on higher ground, to a house with 3 floors. There they are able to be safe from the floods but not the agony of seeing friends, relatives, compatriots suffer.

So, subconsciously, this is maybe what art does. From the stories of people experiencing housing insecurity in Lanark County, and in the midst of the hardships that friends, relatives and thousands other Filipinos experienced, something from deep inside emerges and merges with the current. 

Friends and relatives courageously and tirelessly rebuild their homes and lives, once again. Courage!

Bangon! Bangon Pilipinas!