ANOTHER UPDATE FROM Jan. 21, 2026

These photos don’t show a finished dream.
They show a dream in the middle of a fight.

What you see here is not polished, staged, or picture-perfect. And honestly, that’s part of why this is hard for me to share.

I have been far away, asking for meaningful photos -- clear angles, proper views, something that tells the story of each space. Not for vanity, but because THIS HOUSE MATTERS TO ME. This is not just a structure. THIS IS A DREAM I BUILT IN MY HEART LONG BEFORE WALLS WENT UP.

What I received were photos that feel random, unplanned, and careless. And that’s what hurts. Not the lighting. Not the framing. But the feeling behind the effort. These are not the kind of shots I asked for again and again -- organized, thoughtful, showing the whole space. Even a grade school child can understand “take good pictures of the room from different angles.” That was never a big request. But the output I received feels like the bare minimum, and that truth is frustrating.

Because this house is not casual to me.

The Powder Blue Room was supposed to feel open, calm, like breathing space. Instead, the photos make it look like an afterthought -- bits and pieces, no real story of the room. That space represents clarity and peace in my vision, but right now it feels like my instructions were heard but not truly understood. It’s there, but not presented with care.

Then you see the colored stairs. They aren’t just “cute.” They look like steps I’ve been climbing alone -- each one a different mood, a different day, a different emotional effort. It’s not a smooth journey. It’s layered, uneven, real.

The pink room was meant to feel soft and warm. Right now it feels exposed -- like a gentle heart still waiting to be handled with care.

The yellow room should feel joyful. And it will. But at this stage, it looks like hope still under construction -- light trying to come through, but not yet given the full attention it deserves.

And the green room says the most. Green means growth, life, calm. But here it looks like something trying to bloom while being half-managed. Full of promise, full of personality -- but not presented with the intention it deserves.

That’s why these photos feel senseless to me. They lack intention. And intention is the language I build with.

I don’t do things halfway. I don’t treat dreams like chores. So seeing my vision documented without care feels like my heart being handled without care.

But here’s the truth.

Nothing in these photos says the dream is lost.
They say work is happening.
Color is alive.
Identity is forming.
The vision still exists.

What’s missing right now isn’t the house.
It’s the right attention. The right hands. The same level of love I am pouring into this from a distance.

So this is not a before and after.
This is a during.

A home becoming.
A dream still fighting to take shape.
And a reminder that beautiful things don’t always look beautiful in the middle of the process.

 

A Personal Reflection -- On Trust, Family, and Hard Lessons

I rarely speak about this side of the journey, but today I feel the need to be honest -- not to attack anyone, but to acknowledge what this experience has taught me.

When I started building Casa Arcoiris, I didn’t just hire a professional. I chose to give an opportunity to someone I considered family. I believed in second chances, in helping someone grow, in trusting potential over credentials. I told myself that compassion and support would build loyalty and care in return.

I invested more than money. I invested trust.

Looking back, I now understand that trust without boundaries is not kindness -- it is risk. Family ties do not automatically create professionalism. Good intentions do not replace skill, discipline, or accountability.

I also learned that “cheap” does not always mean saving. Sometimes it costs more in stress, delays, and heartache. And sometimes the real loss is not financial -- it is emotional. It is the disappointment of realizing that the person you believed in did not value your faith in them the same way.

This is not a post about anger. It is about growth.

I am learning to balance compassion with standards, generosity with structure, and family love with clear limits. Helping someone should never mean sacrificing your peace or accepting less than what was agreed.

Casa Arcoiris is teaching me many things. This is one of the hardest lessons -- but also one of the most important.

 

LATE UPDATE FROM Dec. 21, 2025

These photos were seen by myself from the supposedly regularly updated

Google Drive dated December 21, 2025. I’m sharing them today not because everything is finished -- but because I want to document the truth of what progress looks like when you are the homeowner watching from afar.

Since leaving the Philippines on December 4, 2025, I have repeatedly asked for consistent updates -- simple messages, clear photos, and a weekly report. Instead, we received long silences, late responses, and grainy photo dumps that leave more questions than comfort.

Still, I am posting these because Casa Arcoiris deserves to be seen, even in the unfinished stage.

Powder Sky Room (Living / Dining / Kitchen)
The blue walls remain the heart of the home. The long built-ins are taking shape and the space looks brighter -- but the photos also show that the area is still in construction mode. It isn’t styled, cleaned, or finished yet. This is raw progress, not a reveal.

Periwinkle Mist Nook / Service Area
The service area shows some development, but one major thing is still missing -- the sunroof / covering that was part of the plan. This matters because without that protection, the space cannot fully function as intended.

Blush Rose Room (Master Bedroom)
The pink master room continues to look soft and peaceful, and the built-ins are visible -- but several areas still need finishing, cleaning, and proper detailing. It’s close, but it’s not “done.”

Lemon Meringue Room (Gina’s Room)
The yellow room is full of personality. The bunny accent wall is clearly in progress. It has charm and it has joy -- but it also shows why finishing matters. Lines need tightening, edges need retouching, and workmanship must be clean.

Mint Meadow Room (Migs’ Room)
The green room carries the same theme -- bright, youthful, and playful with the pumpkin wall. The concept is strong, but what’s missing is the consistency of final touches: neat edges, clean transitions, proper finishing.

Lavender Haze Powder Room
The powder room continues to take shape, and the structure is improving -- but the finishing still feels incomplete. Several areas still need proper cleaning, detailing, and a more consistent final touch so the space looks truly finished, not rushed.

Peach Sorbet Bathroom
The Peach Sorbet Bathroom is improving in function, but it still needs refinement in polish. There are visible signs that this area requires more careful finishing work -- better edge clean-up, tidier transitions, and overall detailing to match the quality and aesthetic of the rest of Casa Arcoiris.

THE HONEST PART (No Pretending)
I am not happy about the lack of updates. I am not happy about the delays. I am not happy that I have to chase for reports when this is my home and my investment.

CASA ARCOIRIS IS MY DREAM -- but it is also a project that requires discipline and accountability. Silence is not progress. Excuses are not updates. And if someone claims to visit the site, there should be proof -- because documentation is part of professional work.

STILL, I AM HOLDING ON TO WHAT MATTERS MOST:
This house is becoming real.
The colors are there.
The vision is alive.

BUT THE EXECUTION NEEDS TO MATCH THE DREAM.
I will continue documenting Casa Arcoiris truthfully -- not as a “perfect renovation story,” but AS A REAL ONE.