The house of memory is furnished by experiences. It holds
all that happened to us, all that matters to us. It is us. Life is
the interior decorator. But I don’t like empty space. I bring
in art, tchotchkes, and books I’ll never read to fill the gaps.
I admire a painting, unable to tell if it’s real or made up.
Binubuhat ng hangin ang iyong paglisan.
Ang bentilador na umiikot pa rin
tungong kanan—kaliwa, habang inaapuhap ko
ang mumo ng iyong mga ngiti. Ang tunog
ng kaserola, ng kutsilyo sa sangkalan,
ang ayug ng iyong boses sa pagbigkas
ng aking pangalan.
No mabalmablin a pusipusek ti ipos
dagitoy a laglagip—piliek iti agnaed
ditoy nagbabaetanda. Maturug kan,
manganen, nangan kan?,
agawiden, dungdungenka, adulaamin,
sapay koma.
In these languages hinahawakan ko ang mga natitira
nga banbanag ken laglagip—atiu na ko.
Ryan Lacanilao is a Kapampangan storyteller based on Treaty 6 Territory. He is writing a book of letters to his 4-year-old son and was selected for the 2024 Horizons Writers Circle. His work appears in The Polyglot, Hungry Zine, Writerly Magazine, and others. Ryan co-produces and co-hosts the award-winning podcast, “What’s the Tsismis?” Through loss, memories become fragmented, like the Kapampangan words Ryan recalls from his late grandmother. This work explores those fragments using language and visuals—blending English, Kapampangan, Tagalog, and Ilokano. Ryan wrote the English intro and scattered Kapampangan words, and is honored to have Benj and Erica complete the piece.
Benj Gabun Sumabat is a non-binary Ilokano poet and essayist from Cagayan Valley and Ifugao. They are pursuing a BA in Creative Writing at the University of the Philippines Diliman. Benj’s work appears in Dagmay, Polyglot, Bannawag, and more. They’ve attended workshops including Maningning Miclat and the Bienvenido Lumbera Workshop for Translation. This piece explores language’s role in reclaiming identity, honoring the multilingual history of home. Through Erica’s photos and Benj’s poetry, the work addresses cultural memory and challenges dominant narratives. It also examines racism, capitalism, and feudalism in Ilokano communities and the diaspora, creating space for belonging
Erica Olavario is a Manila-born, Edmonton-based photographer and filmmaker. Through DIWA, she captures collective memory and cultural diversity using both digital and analog techniques. Erica’s photography uncovers untold stories, connecting them to family history. Frequent relocations have deepened her understanding of impermanence. Inspired by Benj and Ryan, Erica’s series captures fleeting spaces once called home—moments of stillness and traces of others’ presence, inviting reflection on what we choose to keep.
Ryan Lacanilao, Benj Gabun Sumabat, Erica Olavario
The house of memory is furnished by experiences. It holds
all that happened to us, all that matters to us. It is us. Life is
the interior decorator. But I don’t like empty space. I bring
in art, tchotchkes, and books I’ll never read to fill the gaps.
I admire a painting, unable to tell if it’s real or made up.
[these are the fragments of the Kapampangan
language that I remember from my grandma]
The humid wind carries the scent of your leaving.
The electricfan is still rotating
to the right—left, while I navigate
the crumbs of your smiles. The sound
of the kaserola, of the knife against the chopping board,
and the singsong accent of how you say
my name.
If I can just catch and spin the tail
of these memories—I’ll choose to stay
in these in betweens. Maturug kan,
manganen, nangan kan?,
agawiden, dungdungenka, adulaamin,
sapay koma.
In these languages hinahawakan ko ang mga natitira
nga banbanag ken laglagip—atiu na ko.