RUYA is a personal reflection about purpose, self-limiting beliefs and creating in the face of self-doubt and fears. It shows a Filipina in her late 20s figuring out how to carry on her tribe’s tradition of dreamweaving when her anxiety and insomnia stand in her way. When Ruya’s mom goes into a coma, she feels the pressure of living up to her mom’s sacrifices of moving to the states. As she desperately tries to dream of the design for a timely order, her fears of losing her mom, failing and diving into the unknown continue to grow. It was only her anxiety subsiding that allowed her to move forward.

During the 2023 strikes, I thought about my purpose in art and my relationship with my creative self. I was recovering from a long bout of insomnia, burnout, undiagnosed (at the time) anemia that interfered with my sleep. It had been 2 years since I directed anything outside of work. I didn’t recognize myself in the midst of my anxiety and all of the external factors I had no control over. I wanted to remember: Why does art matter to me? Could I still create? With time away from work, I stayed up late that summer obsessing over finding the perfect idea–only to worsen my insomnia in the process.

But the answer lied in those sleepless nights—I revisited an idea I shelved about the T’boli dreamweavers in Mindanao. Though I don’t identify as T’boli, I was drawn to the idea that we can stand in our way even for a calling we’re born into. As the granddaughter of an Overseas Filipino (OFW), I’ve never seen a story about a T’boli dreamweaver as an OFW in modern America. While the T’boli face different pressures and challenges than Filipino Americans, I learned they struggled to dream and weave from time to time.