Jetro Rafael on Reopening Van Gogh is Bipolar and Life After Robert Alejandro

(SPOT.ph) At 154 Maginhawa, there's a nondescript closet almost five feet high, with a mirror embedded on the door. It's an old piece of furniture you wouldn't find amiss in a decades-old family home, a fixture you wouldn't be surprised to find old clothes or antique knickknacks in. You probably wouldn't give it a second look, but this closet, which you'd expect to find in a forgotten corner somewhere inside someone’s house, is out by what seems to be a cozy garden setting. To its right is a shoe rack that holds more shoes than this closet can hold clothes. And to its left is a handmade sign that could double as art—but it’s really just a wooden board lit up with differently-shaped and sized light bulbs, its colorful, mismatched wooden block letters spelling VGIB, with one of the strokes of the V charmingly replaced by a paintbrush.

Look closer and you'll realize you've found yourself at Van Gogh is Bipolar—Jetro Rafael's eccentric little restaurant-slash-home-slash-art space.

The closet doesn't hold clothes, or antiques, or knickknacks. It's the doorway to the restaurant. Ring the bell, and chances are one of the staff or Jetro himself will surprise you by popping out of the door (which doesn't seem like it will let a fully grown adult through, but trust us—it will). You'll be asked to remove your footwear, and suddenly the shoe rack makes sense.

Once you climb into the closet door, a second black door that more clearly spells out the restaurant’s name in bold, steel letters opens through to the main dining space, and even if the shoe rack and the closet and the sign outside already gave away just how whimsical your visit is going to be, you'll still be surprised at what you'll find inside.

It's a mishmash of knickknacks (so okay, the closet did have them) artfully arranged in what seems to be—and is actually—an artist’s home, with playfully mismatched tables and chairs carefully placed to allow foot traffic in the compact space. There’s mixed media art, framed paintings, decor celebrating all manner of holidays, ornate sets of dinnerware, display cabinets filled to the brim with dainty teacups—a visual explosion of color and texture and self-expression. If you're a Studio Ghibli fan, you'll find yourself thinking of Howl's maximalist style, except while Jetro is no wizard, he does work something close to magic with his art, his food, and his advocacy for holistic wellness.

In contrast, Jetro is wearing a black polo shirt over soft gray pants. There’s an air of put-togetherness about him that belies the simplicity of his outfit, and his piercing, kind eyes sparkled as he welcomed us into his space. His excitement at having us over is palpable, and immediately he begins talking animatedly about his plans for Van Gogh is Bipolar. He serves us lemongrass tea, which was tangy, but also surprisingly sweet–balanced by coconut sap. He says it’s a calming tea, and between that and his own genial presence, we find ourselves settling right in.

“Van Gogh is Bipolar is an accidental cafe or restaurant, so to speak,” he says when asked about VGIB’s beginnings.

It started because he didn’t end it all: the story of Van Gogh is Bipolar begins in 2009, when Jetro was standing on top of a building, ready to jump. It was a year after he had been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, and he had been on anti-psychotic drugs that made him feel so numb to the world that he fell into the deepest despair. He thought that the only option left was to off himself, but he didn’t–and almost 20 years on, he recounts what stopped him.

“Something happened inside my inner being,” he recounts, “Para siyang firefly. Alitaptap.”

It was a flicker. A pulse of life he didn't—couldn't—feel before as the anti-psychotic drugs he was on didn't work for him and instead put him into a zombie-like state. But in that moment, a fleeting pause before that irreversible step, he felt life pulse in his body. He felt alive again. He stepped off the ledge, cried and let his emotions wash over him, and decided: he was going to live his life but on his terms and as fully as he could.

“It was a radical transformation. I fully embraced and celebrated my life the way it is, as is. Wala akong binawas, wala akong dinagdag. Ito yung nararamdaman ko, ito ako, ito yung buong-buong ako. Hindi ako kulang. I am enough as I am.”

But how could he make his resolve tangible? Sustainable? He found the answer through food and his memories of his year living with the Dumagat Tribe in Palanan, Isabela. He was graduating from UP Fine Arts then, working on a second degree after shifting away from medical school, and his thesis was a documentary on the rituals of the Dumagat.

It was there that he took inspiration for his current way of life. With the Dumagats, Jetro observed a natural rhythm, a vitality that he didn’t find anywhere else. “Parang yun yung gusto kong balikan na rhythm,” he says. It was there that he first learned of black mountain rice–which the tribe called sacred rice–and later on he would find that aside from being rich in vitamin B and folic acids, it also activated neurotransmitters in one’s brain that could improve one’s mood. “It's known to make you happy,” he explains as he chuckles, “Ang tawag ko sa kanya, Happy Rice.”

From there, his medical training began to merge with his experience of being part of a more natural rhythm with the Dumagats. He began to research biochemicals and in which foods they could naturally be sourced. He knew that the key to realizing his new resolve to live life to the fullest was in finding ways to nourish not just his body but also his mind, and most importantly, his soul. “In Van Gogh, ang pagkain dito hindi lang siya pagkain para mabusog ka. We call it mood healing nutrition. The food is designed nutritionally and biochemically to activate specific neurotransmitters in the brain and in the body.”

And so he began, slowly at first, to create recipes that featured ingredients he calls buhay na pagkain. Living food. Natural, organic ingredients that contain nutrients that helped in vital bodily functions, but also biochemicals that boosted one’s mood and lowered stress levels. Slowly, too, he began to decorate 154 Maginhawa, turning it into a space where he can feel safe, comfortable, and most importantly–himself.

The interior of Van Gogh is Bipolar feels like a living, breathing art piece: ever-changing as Jetro updates and redecorates as the mood strikes him; but also, surprisingly, it feels like home. It feels lived-in. Loved-in, if you will. It’s a sacred space, he declares, where he could let his emotions shine instead of tucking them away in the deep recesses of his soul, where it had once festered badly enough to push him to the brink. Here, through the whimsical closet door, you’ll find that the magic is steeped in a deep sense of acceptance: of being allowed, in the full sense of the phrase, to come as you are.

It is why, when Jetro first opened his doors to his guests, the message was clear: “Here in Van Gogh is Bipolar, we celebrate our imperfections. We embrace our flaws. We accept our weaknesses as we celebrate our greatness.”

But Jetro’s experience with the Dumagats did not only gift him the inspiration for the food at Van Gogh; it’s also where he would meet the love of his life, Robert Alejandro, co-founder and illustrator of beloved stationery brand, Papemelroti.

He had hired Robert to help him shoot his film documentary, and between the shoots and shared experience, their friendship blossomed into a romance. It was also through Robert that he discovered his love of painting–while on a train ride as they travelled to Mongolia, no less. It was a 72-hour ride, and Robert invited him to attend his art session. Jetro agreed, and it was a match made in–well, a train in Mongolia, but magical nonetheless:

“I fully remember, yung paint brush tapos yung feelings ko, yung thoughts ko tapos yung papel tapos watercolor yung binigay niya. Parang naging iisa kami. Parang magic kasi parang synchronized ako sa lahat. Tapos para akong nasapian,” he says, laughing as he recounts his first experience of painting.

When the ride ended, they went straight to an art store, where Jetro bought more art materials. In just one winter month during their visit in Mongolia, Jetro was able to fill the walls of their backpacker’s hostel with portraits of fellow travelers they met during their stay.

“So, yun yung nagustuhan ko sa journey ko with Robert. We were together for 20 years dahil hindi lang siya life partner, yung teacher ko din siya. Pero syempre, pareho kaming estudyante din ang isa't isa.”

Robert stayed with Jetro through his highest of highs and his lowest of lows–in every sense, as they were already together when the latter received his diagnosis. Robert was there as Jetro rebuilt his life and slowly began to open himself up to the world again. After learning how to care for himself in a more sustainable way, Jetro shared that opening Van Gogh is Bipolar seemed like the next natural step, and from the get-go Robert was on board. At the time, all Jetro had was the idea to invite guests to dine at his home, and it was Robert who asked what he would call his “accidental cafe.”

“Jetro’s Nook” was his first answer, a throwaway thought as Jetro sat in the passenger seat and Robert drove them to their next travel destination.

“‘Ba yan, baduy!” Robert apparently quipped. Jetro laughed and offered, “Jetro is Bipolar.” Robert joked about Jetro’s dogged determination to be radically authentic, before the phrase was even coined. Jetro gave it a bit more thought.

“Van Gogh is Bipolar,” he said.

“Perfect!” Robert approved.

Robert would go on to be as integral to the space as our host is, from painting the colorful mural on the wall that declared the name of Jetro’s new space, to creating the Love Mailbox, which now sits on the dresser by the door. Here, guests could write love notes, slip them in tiny envelopes, and drop them in the box Robert made and decorated with his art. Anyone can open it up and read what others have left behind, and anyone can add to this collection of love letters, too. It was important to both Jetro and Robert to create rituals for Van Gogh is Bipolar that went beyond enjoying a multi-course dinner; they wanted to create opportunities for their guests to connect–with each other, with themselves.

“Van Gogh is Bipolar. My diagnosis was supposed to be my cursed life, my doom, my sumpa. Pero it became a portal,” he exclaims as he winks at the secret closet door, “a doorway to my heavenly, blissful life here on Earth.”

In 2016, Robert Alejandro was diagnosed with colon cancer; it was terminal. They were told Robert wouldn’t have much longer to live, but he refused to accept the news in defeat. He turned to Jetro, who at this point was almost seven years into his research and practice of eating natural, organic foods. Robert refused chemo as he wanted to stay active, mobile, and feeling like himself.

Jetro painstakingly researched and designed a diet for Robert, and ensured it was rich in antioxidants to support Robert’s resolve to live his life to the fullest, even with cancer. It seemed like the obvious thing to do for the couple, because Jetro’s philosophy was–and still is–that food isn’t just nourishment; it’s medicine. And more than that, it’s a living expression of love. Cooking wasn’t just a means to produce a meal; for Jetro, it is the most tangible way for him to express his love and support of Robert’s decision.

Robert regained his strength. The years he gained wasn’t just an eight-year battle with cancer, it was eight years more of life, laughter, and love. In November of 2024, Robert breathed his last. A little over a year on, after spending almost all of 2025 in grief and healing in Central and North America, Jetro smiles as he reflects on the last leg of their journey together.

“My life with Kuya Robert–kasi kilala siya na Kuya Robert–hindi siya malungkot,” he says wistfully, but with no resentment. And perhaps a little conspiratorially, he adds with a little chuckle, “Ako lang yung malungkot ngayon.”

Jetro goes back to 2009, to the first lessons he learned when he grappled with accepting that he was bipolar. “Nakita ko na ang sarap palang maging tao kapag nag-decide ka to take full accountability and full responsibility of the choices and decisions that you make in life. And so, nawala yung blaming. Because laging dati, kasalanan ng tatay ko, kasalanan ng mga taong may ayaw sa akin. So lagi akong may excuse kasi nga ‘victim’ ako, kawawa ako. Dati yun.” 

He learned to change the language he uses with himself, with his feelings. He unlearned the mentality that he was a victim of his own circumstances. He learned to see negative emotions instead as ‘intense body sensations,’ and by using neutral language, he is able to accept that sometimes, these sensations are simply unique experiences that one has to go through in order to live through. 

Today, after taking almost a year to recover and recalibrate, Jetro is vibrant and incandescent as he talks about his journey of grieving and living life after Robert.

“We call it grief, but I don’t necessarily want to call it that. Grief is very negative. I feel like it’s the living love, kasi buhay yung pag-ibig na na-experience namin eh. So hindi ‘yan mawawala. Kasama lang talaga yung every time na nafi-feel ko yung love niya–talagang tutulo ang luha ko, whether I’m remembering happy memories or nakita ko yung sulat-kamay niya.”

And it probably happens more often than you think, because instead of locking away Robert’s keepsakes, Van Gogh is Bipolar is full of them. The Love Box, created and designed by Robert. The Van Gogh is Bipolar mural, which is the first thing you see when you enter. As you go deeper into the space, you’ll find more of Robert’s paintings, lovingly displayed on the walls.

And perhaps the most telling of Jetro’s belief of his and Robert’s enduring love is his bedroom. If you’re so lucky, he will let you through the double-door cabinet disguised as another mural. Inside is a cozy space that is home to an antique four-poster single bed–Jetro’s bed–from the canopy of which hangs several wooden birds that flapped their wings when you pulled on a simple lever mechanism. Robert’s creations. 

“You know, his presence brought so much joy, so much creativity, so much inspiration in my life and also life to other people. So talagang luluha ka kasi nagpapasalamat ka,” Jetro says. He then laughs a little as he explains how, just this morning, he thought, “Wow, napakaswerte ko. I was chosen. We chose each other. Para mapili ka na ikaw yung mamahalin ng isang tao at papapasukin ka niya sa buhay niya, hindi siya maliit na bagay.”

He continues to gush about their life together, and how they chose, every day, to express verbally how much they meant to each other. It was important to them, he explains, not just to express love through actions, but to say it so they knew that the other knew for sure. And for Jetro and Robert, it wasn’t just, “I love you.”

It was, “I love you unconditionally.”

People are always wondering whether Van Gogh is Bipolar would be open when they visit, and Jetro has gained notoriety for being elusive about his schedule. He reveals the not-so-secret truth behind it: he’ll open for three months, close it for one, and then come back and be open again for three months then be gone the next three. Why? Because he’d be travelling.

“Yung iba mahilig sa sasakyan, sa gamit. Ako talaga, ang naging luho ko, luxury ko, yung experience. Sa akin yun yung greatest investment kasi pwede kong dalhin hanggang mawala na ako sa physical na buhay na ‘to. Yung karanasan, baon-baon mo.”

After Robert’s passing in 2024, people wondered whether Jetro had closed the restaurant permanently; after all, he was gone for most of 2025. But he was just taking his time so that when he reopened Van Gogh is Bipolar, he’d be ready to welcome guests again. However, this time’s a little different. He’s been having more meetings with his staff in order to make some changes. In the coming months, he plans to turn his space into a retreat–something he’ll hold once a week, apart from the (now more regular) dinner service.

“When I decided to reopen Van Gogh, nagkaroon siya ng ibang dimension na retreat siya. These coming months, I really wanted to integrate the soul. Very important sa akin na ang papakainin mo ay hindi lang yung tiyan mo. Dapat kasama yung puso’t kaluluwa mo,” he says, and emphasizes that despite his talk of soul and spirit, he isn’t trying to be religious. 

It’s about intention, he explains, and a conscious effort to be present with yourself and with your loved ones. There’s an emphasis on slowing down, of disconnecting from the instant-everything of the Internet, and being comfortable with sitting with your own feelings. Just breathing, being here, and building habits steeped in gratitude and expressive love. 

Program-wise, the retreat consists of several Van Gogh is Bipolar traditions like drinking their mood healing tea, taking off footwear, and picking a fun hat or crown to wear, but there’s also going to be immersive experiences like meditation and sound baths. 

He also shares plans to expand his Love Project, which began as free workshops he calls the Art and Science of Well-being that he teaches at Van Gogh. Now, he’s partnered up with Museo Pambata to do demo workshops for kids in underserved communities called The Art and Science of Eating. It focuses on teaching children about food and how it can be used to love and take care of oneself.

Jetro Rafael is going to be a very busy man this year, but as his eyes light up while he talks about his plans, it’s clear he’s also setting challenges for himself that he’s more than ready to take on. He is still in grief–it will never really go away so long as he recognizes it as Robert’s living love–but he’s determined to take things one step, one day, one breath at a time.

It’s not about fighting it, Jetro explains. “Wala kang kailangang labanan. Wala kang kailangang awayin. Just remember that we're part of this magnificent, incredible, amazing life here on Earth. We're that living pulse of life. We're that living pulse of love. So anong gagawin mo lang? Eh 'di, huminga. Huminga ka. Kung may grief ka, masaya ka, malungkot ka–huminga ka lang.”

It all boils down to him knowing that he is loved, that he can love, and that all he has to do to thrive in this life is to simply take a breath, and then another, and then another. “At habang humihinga ka, pwede kang mag-tsaa at kumain. That’s what I know for now.”

It’s not easy to close a chapter filled with so much love and light after 20-some years, but Jetro has so much more to give. He’s ready for the next chapter, and is determined to fill it with as much living love, as he calls it, as he experienced with his Robert. And as we said our goodbyes and promised to visit again, there was a profound feeling of relief in realizing that there is indeed joy to be rediscovered after grief, that hope can thrive in the depths of despair, and that there is comfort to be found both in solitude and in community.

But only–just like Jetro Rafael does every day–if you choose to.

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