A childhood dream.
This is how the project began, as many do.
But the world largely asks us to release our dreams in the name of practicality.
To work in spaces that do not necessarily align with us in order to pay our bills and dues.
We as founders are also in the middle of this system.
Working whatever we can as we attempt to make this a reality.
We are looking for a home, a space to where we don’t have to shrink ourselves.
I was looking the definition of it among the diversity I knew existed in this archipelago.
I went out. I discovered. I unlearned much. Relearned much. I became aware that a home is actually a village, but no one knows how to be a villager.
Many people make the mistake of thinking land is untouched, untamed, or unnamed.
Land is not neutral.
Land bears memory.
Land shelters people.
Land carries deep histories.
To step into land is not just arrival, but an introduction of yourself to it and it’s people.
So we did. We sat, listened, and slowly introduced ourselves. We were entrusted with names and stories, because these are among the most powerful things a community can share.
We are building this space with humility, acknowledging the painful past that the soil whispers to us.
This is under the guidance of Pangantucan’s fearless leader, our beloved Datú Arayan, who is transforming the future of this land and community.
It is meant to be a place where local knowledge meets creative practice. Where cultural bearers can share their stories on their own terms. Where artists can engage with culture as something to care for, not extract from.
There are many places in the world that quietly nurture creativity and culture.
They are not always large institutions or museums. Most of the time, they are simply home-studios sustained by artists themselves, just like this one.
We are stewards, inviting others to walk with us and discover the intangible wealth that lays in the stories of the elders and our contemporaries.
We are building a place that can hold.
Memories, legacies, and you: the one searching for a space to be yourself fully.
Who seek refuge, but know to give reverence to their dwelling.
Who have been burdened by the weight of today's expectations and still choose to be conscious.
Who understand that the past, present, and future are all held in a continuum.
Such depth requires an ecosystem,
but these things do not explode into existence the same way technology today wills itself to.
They begin as buds or saplings.
They require cultivation.
This is where 50 Seeds begins.
As a Seed, you help bring this space into existence.
In the wise words of Datú Mandukiay–Manunubay:
You are not lost. You are simply disconnected.
To reconnect to ourselves, we must find a space that nurtures who we are. A place to feel whole, rooted, nourished, and understood.
Spaces like this are never built by one person alone. They are shaped by the people who believe they must exist. That’s why we seek those who resonate with us.
Thank you for taking the time to walk through these words. We hope to make this big little dream come true for all those searching for a place to call home.
With gratitude,
Nikki
Founder, Balay Kasamtangan
Update — 8:32 AM April 2, 2026
In the wake of escalating world tensions, spaces like this become even more pivotal and significant, but we are terrified for its survival.
We see flares of fire, threats of man-made thunderclaps against the homes of innocent people.
We are but two people trying to build this.
We are doing our best to survive the economic crush, but we are barely holding on.
Commodities rise in price, pushing us even lower and making us more vulnerable,
while we keep the veneer of endurance to maintain the unspoken trust we are trying to establish with those who have not met us in person.
Our art is our only offering to the world, but it seems the systems at large aims to extinguish that.
We wish to continue, but we cannot do it alone.