Mga Biyahe

2025 | A.I.R. Gallery | USA

“What is terrifying partakes of the abyss, three times linked to the unknown. First, the time you fell into the belly of the boat. For, in your poetic vision, a boat has no belly; a boat does not swallow up, does not devour; a boat is steered by open skies. Yet, the belly of this boat dissolves you, precipi­tates you into a nonworld from which you cry out. This boat is a womb, a womb abyss. It generates the clamor of your protests; it also produces all the coming unanimity. Although you are alone in this suffering, you share in the unknown with others whom you have yet to know. This boat is your womb, a matrix, and yet it expels you. This boat: pregnant with as many dead as living under sentence of death.” — Edouard Glissant, The Poetics of Relation

Migration is a gamble. To leave your homeland is to take an unknown risk. You do not know where it will lead until you are already on the other side. Whether by a literal or metaphorical bangka, to cross is to wager your life, stepping beyond the language, culture, and memory that anchor you. Along the way, you ask yourself how many crossings it will take to reach a windfall. All you can do is hope that your luck will travel far enough to carry you through.

Mga Biyahe is a makeshift bangka made from reclaimed cardboard, tape, and used lottery scratchers.