by Kyla Estoya
Yana Ofrasio, also known as Pagdalisayin, is an abstract artist, and possibly one of the most captivating souls I’ve met. Meeting her was like a moth drawn to a flame– inviting. To paint you a picture: it was an artist’s solo exhibit show, and they were serving pancit and barbecue. Her fork dropped to the floor mid-conversation, and instead of reaching for a new one, she did something unexpected. It was a moment, subtle yet defining. She grabbed her barbecue stick and used it to eat pancit. That moment, I knew, I wanted to be her friend.
Yana was born and raised in Makati. She spent a dose of her childhood in Los Baños, because of her father’s job, but eventually their family made their way back to the the sitio of Bangkal in the city. Both of her parents were artists, and it only makes sense that an offspring would also embrace the world of the arts. She studied visual arts at De La Salle College of Saint Benilde and snagged a scholarship. She made her way running her roots from one job after another. She started selling her artworks in community art markets and facilitating art workshops. “It was the heyday of art bazaars and workshops”, she says, “There was a time we had an event in BGC and there was no registration fee to be a merchant. It was free.” Ultimately, Yana became a full-time artist and began having solo shows. Looking back at her growth, and how her art has evolved through the years, she came to a realization that maybe there is some way she can incorporate her art into a bolder mission.
I spent a sunny Saturday with Yana where she showed me around the streets she lived on, each corner humming with Yana’s stories and memories. First, a chapel, where Yana volunteers (imagine stained glass windows dancing with colors!). Next, a flea market that could be a set for a musical (but then again, anything can be a set for a musical if you are brave enough). Finally, she even showed me houses that sell second-hand furniture–which to me, translates to endless treasures.
But our walk wasn’t just paved with sunshine. We passed by a bittersweet sight – an empty lot where sari-sari stores once stood, now replaced by the looming skeleton of a soon-to-be gas station. It was a reminder of change, and how sometimes, parts of a musical fade into silence.
Change, although sometimes hurts, compels us to do something. There are moments when we want to help a community and our “ideal” way of helping is sometimes a little too ambitious and may require some sort of tangible power that we are not equipped with. That’s why people rebel or rage against the system, and that’s good. But there are times when anger can be morphed into something else.
When you’re an artist, you have unlimited routes to use your talent in lending a hand. For most of us, especially those who are struggling financially, most of the time we make use of what we already have. The best we can do is keep refining what we can control. To Yana, her passion led her to another project where she believes it can be most useful: placemaking.
Placemaking focuses on people, creating spaces that foster connection and interaction. It inspires people to collectively reimagine and reinvent public spaces as the heart of every community.
“Coming into 2024, I maintain that being here in my neighborhood is what’s keeping me grounded and inspired,” Yana shares. “I work in the intersection of abstract art and its function in creating community or third spaces. In my advocacy, I believe that there is a strong potential for third spaces to be more than what it is.”
She adds: “I’ve realized na all I’ve done in my career is creating an emotional space for people to express themselves, to learn, or connect with each other–so I have been unaware for a long time that I have built an emotional third space. The function of my abstract art isn’t really known, I mean, abstract siya okay, but for me I use it to communicate that you belong somewhere.”
In my advocacy, I believe that there is a strong potential for third spaces to be more than what it is.
Mark-Making in Abstract Art with Pagdalisayin
The next weekend, I had the opportunity to participate in one of Yana’s workshops at Convenience Coffeehouse, The Atrium Makati. Participants were asked to bring art materials that they are passively ignoring at home and to bring headphones.
At the start of the workshop, Yana asked us to introduce ourselves and asked what our expectations and goals for this workshop. A lot of us were curious about mark-making, and what it means. Pagdalisayin’s direct translation to English is to purify. Yana begins to explain, “Experience makes us a purer version of who we are. Sobrang important that you have your identity to bring to the table. That’s how you can leave a mark.”
She then proceeded to talk about movement of the body, and how sometimes forget that we are allowed to move and can move. “I love seeing how people interact in their own spaces”, Yana shares. All participants were asked to move around an area of the building with listening to music, and just let themselves be. Yana says this workshop is also a way for her to own being a messy person. Chaos contributes to the finesse of one’s being. Therefore, dancing–chaotic and beautiful as it is–lets our bodies be.
Next, she talked about the magic of creative limitation, where you intentionally limit yourself and discover untapped potential in yourself and your chosen medium. She does this by showing us different art mediums and asking us what its limits are– for example, a pencil. What can you draw with a pencil? What are its limits?
Creative limitations will lead someone to creativity. It’s essentially about being resourceful, and keep pushing its capacity until you have achieved something that even you and the medium didn’t know was possible.
My way of peacekeeping is different.
The best part of the workshop was applying everything we had learned. In my works, I’ve used art materials that I’ve always been afraid of using: gouache, oil sticks, charcoal, and aquarelle wax. I also brought the brushes that I didn’t like. I felt like a child again. And that’s always been my goal with my art, to make sure I feel like a child. This is something that I adore about Yana, too. And this workshop validated it. Sometimes we are all caught up in the trend of #adulting, and fail to see the world with wonder and awe. The possibilities are endless–in art and in life.
“My way of peacekeeping is different”, Yana shares, “It sounds shallow, but someone has to look out for someone’s emotional state. I may not be an activist in a conventional way, but I believe that this is how I can help.”
In the process of figuring out what my life would be, I forgot how colorful and expandable my world already is. I have Yana to be grateful for because she showed me a garden I already cultivated, things I already Kylafied. There is much work to do, I admit. But thanks to her, I can say that a better version of me is ready. I am purer than I was yesterday.
Kyla Estoya is a super typhoon survivor and an advocate for throwing kindness around like confetti. She currently lives in Pasig City, Philippines. She is the founder of The Love Club and The Local Creatives. Follow her on Instagram @qillerkueen.
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