I have many childhood memories of riding in the family car with my sister Sylvia, my father at the wheel. They were always at night, after my father came home from work. Tonight I recall that there were only a few buildings in Quezon City then, and that I would crane my neck at every gas station we passed, shining like stars under their bright, fluorescent lights.

I love fluorescent lighting. I paint by it, rather than by indirect sunlight or lamplight. After all, why should I paint like artists of the past, whose studios did not have modern electricity? Fluorescent lighting makes me feel that I see everything, and so I am one painter who will always be grateful for and will always treasure fluorescent lighting.