The evolution of an artist can be compared to a butterfly. In the early stage, it is a wriggling caterpillar. To fly, it must first weave a cocoon around itself. While confined in this cocoon, it undergoes metamorphosis.
To the Oriental mind, the personality of the artist counts more than the forms he creates.
The cultivation of personality has its moral and aesthetic discipline that demands scholarship and refinement. It is the soul of art. No matter what the artist does, his character will show in his work.
The evolution of an artist can be compared to a butterfly. In the early stage, it is a wriggling caterpillar. In order to fly, it must first weave a cocoon around itself. While confined in this cocoon, it undergoes metamorphosis.
I would like to think my transformation as an Oriental artist was a case of fate; and faith perhaps. As a Filipino by birth and Catholic by circumstance, my upbringing was largely Western. Although we Filipinos like to think that we are as Oriental as any Asian, we are not really. Our culture derived from centuries of Spanish and decades of American colonization is quasi Oriental at best.
This Western bias is not easy to discount. However, in my early years in Hong Kong, I met people who opened my eyes to the light of the East. I initially approached the Oriental culture reflected through Western eyes. The things and ideas introduced to me intrigued me. I started to look near, to the enchanting East.
In cultivating my relationship with this rediscovered culture, I collected Chinese paintings. In the course of collecting, studying, living and absorbing their vitality, I began to understand their underlying substance. Although I was not bookish, I began to read the wisdom of Lao Tzu, the metaphysical poetry of Chuang Tzu, and the moral concepts of Confucius. Through these ancient sages, the essence of the Oriental mind and spirit gradually unfolded.
Since my conversion to the spirit of the East, I have adopted my artistic philosophy from the Taoist concepts of Yin and Yang. The Way of the Tao rejects logical analysis in favor of intuition and harmony with nature. The Taoist believes that with the right attitude, man can enter into concord with the creative forces of nature that fuses form and spirit.
In my development as a professional designer, I have been fortunate not to come under the stifling academic influences.
The skills I have acquired from practicing interior design are a result of consistent effort, discipline and dedication that may not have been possible without the right opportunity and timing. Interior design was a nascent industry in Asia thirty years ago. For a budding designer, Hong Kong offered the best ground for training.
To maintain a free artistic mind and spirit in Hong Kong, where materialistic gods of commerce abound, is daunting. I had opportunities to get involved with bigger contracts but I was ambivalent. I was wary of wrong projects or unsuitable clients that could lead me away from my goals. As a result, I worked intermittently.
The works featured in this book represent a collection of expressions that speak with certain harmony and continuity. They were conceived from within and delivered sometimes in pain but mostly with joy.
Part One retraces some personal and professional background. I go back along the steps leading to the evolution of my design sense and how my past experiences relate to my present style. Style is the most subjective element in the exercise of design. It develops through intense interest, discernment and total confidence.
Part Two and Three deal with the tangible and intangibles of human environment. Space, mood, the effects of forms and materials, the interaction of individual with nature and the concepts that bind them in physical and psychological reality. They talk about residential and corporate interior design.
Part Four focuses on the other aspects vital to interior design and decoration. Here, I offer positive ideas for harmonious living.
Lastly, I would like to give my reader a playful nudge. My art and my life are not nearly as ponderously solemn as all these may seem to imply. The gentle rhythm of life-giving rain, not the gloom of the Pacific typhoons, is my shared vision.
The evolution of an artist can be compared to a butterfly. In the early stage, it is a wriggling caterpillar. To fly, it must first weave a cocoon around itself. While confined in this cocoon, it undergoes metamorphosis. 
