Santi Bose’s name conjures images in my mind of a mythical artist: hip, bohemian, devil-may-care. I never met him, and only encountered his work after he had passed away. I remember walking into the third floor gallery of the Cultural Center of the Philippines in 2004, where curator Bobi Valenzuela had mounted a retrospective of his pieces, and being blown away. Perhaps it is the natural affinity I have for his aesthetic. His kitschy collages assembled with images from Philippine history and tribal artifacts just resonate with my partiality for art with that contemporary, ethnic vibe. Continue reading