ArtiBaguio

ArtiBaguio Where fog meets color—this is ArtiBaguio ✨

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲.It lingers in the quiet glow of mountains,in skies painted with colors that fade gently,in mome...
24/10/2025

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲.

It lingers in the quiet glow of mountains,
in skies painted with colors that fade gently,
in moments where the day slows into silence.

Pauses do not take away from the journey,
they give it shape,
they remind us to breathe,
to notice what’s here before it slips into memory.

In every still horizon,
there is a hidden kind of wonder,
waiting for eyes that are willing to rest. 🌄✨

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.Sometimes it looks like fog settling over the trees,light breaking softly through the mist,a...
17/10/2025

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

Sometimes it looks like fog settling over the trees,
light breaking softly through the mist,
air that reminds us it is alive,
moving, resting, returning.

In the weight of days,
we forget how much the earth keeps pace with us.
How silence can match our rhythm,
how stillness can cradle what feels heavy.

When you pause,
the world pauses too,
not to leave you behind,
but to hold space for your next step. 🌲☁️

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲.Some of it looks like mountains veiled in mist,waters holding their reflection,a pause that c...
10/10/2025

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲.

Some of it looks like mountains veiled in mist,
waters holding their reflection,
a pause that carries quiet strength.

In the middle of the rush,
in the space between breaths,
rest can feel like nothing.
But here, in this calm,
growth is quietly gathering,
patience is taking root,
and the self is slowly returning.

If this season feels like pause,
remember,
rest is still becoming. 🌊🌲

𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮,lines already drawn,shapes already waiting.And as the sky deepened,the sea breathed its quiet...
06/10/2025

𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮,
lines already drawn,
shapes already waiting.
And as the sky deepened,
the sea breathed its quiet song.

I remembered that rest can look like this too:
a softness that unfolds,
a patience that lingers,
a nearness that stays,
even when the heart is far.

Two chairs by the shore,
a toast lifted to the sunset,
a promise whispered into the waves,
that in every pause,
there is still a closeness,
there is still a becoming.

𝙷𝚒𝚖𝚕𝚊𝚢 | Painting by Numbers on Canvas

h𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘, 𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 🍂𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲.Some of it feels like fog resting on trees,a stillness that slows the world down,...
03/10/2025

h𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘, 𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 🍂

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲.

Some of it feels like fog resting on trees,
a stillness that slows the world down,
a hush that carries meaning even without words.

In the middle of noise,
in the spaces between,
we often forget that silence has its own language.
Sometimes it speaks softly,
sometimes it simply holds you,
sometimes it asks you to just listen.

If this season feels heavy,
remember,
rest is still happening.
Even here. Even now. 🌲

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 🌌Across the hills, a thousand windows shimmer,each one a quiet story,each one a reminde...
27/09/2025

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 🌌

Across the hills, a thousand windows shimmer,
each one a quiet story,
each one a reminder that light multiplies
when seen together.

Streetlights hum softly,
windows glow against the chill,
and the city holds its breath
in between echoes of laughter and silence.

Kislap lingers here,
in every corner where light refuses to fade,
in every pause where stillness feels alive,
in the way Baguio nights remind us
that even endings can shine.

Here’s to the glow that stays,
to nights that teach us to carry it forward.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬.On rain-soaked streets,in the blur of neon and lamps,in the shimmer that refuses to fad...
20/09/2025

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬.

On rain-soaked streets,
in the blur of neon and lamps,
in the shimmer that refuses to fade,
light insists on staying.

It doesn’t have to be loud,
it doesn’t have to be many.
Even a single glow
is proof that the night
can always be resisted. 🌃

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.Through glowing windows,through neon streaks on wet streets,through lamps that keep burning ...
13/09/2025

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

Through glowing windows,
through neon streaks on wet streets,
through lamps that keep burning quietly.

In the stillness,
you realize the city breathes softly too,
reminding you that even silence can shine,
even quiet can speak. 🌇

𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙤𝙨,colors clashing with no direction,brushstrokes lost in uncertainty.But somewhere between the...
11/09/2025

𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙤𝙨,
colors clashing with no direction,
brushstrokes lost in uncertainty.

But somewhere between the pinks and golds,
the clouds began to gather,
the sun began to breathe,
and order revealed itself in the quiet.

Maybe that’s the truth of becoming:
what feels scattered at first,
can turn into something tender,
something whole,
something that was waiting all along
to be seen in a softer light.

𝙰𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚠 | Acrylic on Canvas

h𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘, 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛! 🌙✨There are streets that vanish into fog,nights that feel heavy with silence,moments where the way for...
06/09/2025

h𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘, 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛! 🌙✨

There are streets that vanish into fog,
nights that feel heavy with silence,
moments where the way forward blurs.
And yet, somewhere in the haze,
a lamp flickers, a light lingers.
It does not chase away the darkness entirely,
but it reminds us we are not walking alone.

Kislap is found in these quiet flames,
in the glow that keeps watch while the world grows dim,
in the steady sparks that whisper:
you are still seen, you are still held,
you are still guided home.

This month is for finding solace in the glow,
for holding on to the faint but faithful lights,
for remembering that even in the fog,
there is always warmth waiting to be found.

💡 Here’s to September: the season of lights that stay.

I lingered by the waters,where colors shifted quietly,𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚.The tides carried what I could not say,...
04/09/2025

I lingered by the waters,
where colors shifted quietly,
𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚.

The tides carried what I could not say,
the horizon held what I could not hold,
and in every ripple,
I learned that becoming takes its own time.

Now, the sun dips low,
a gentle reminder that endings,
are also beginnings,
and that even in pauses
there is still a life unfolding.

𝙳𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚐 | Acrylic on Canvas

And just like that, another month slips into memory.But before we move forward, I pause,in the still hush of morning,whe...
30/08/2025

And just like that, another month slips into memory.
But before we move forward, I pause,
in the still hush of morning,
where the sky softens
and the blooms haven’t opened yet.

There’s something sacred here,
in the quiet before the next becoming.
The wind whispers it softly:
"𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈."

This month taught me that change isn’t always bold.
Sometimes, it looks like showing up gently.
Not with fireworks, but with intention.
Choosing peace over pressure.
Stillness over speed.
Rooting where I stand.

The seasons may shift,
but the becoming,
it continues, quietly and always. 🌇

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