2022 ~
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One day, as I was walking, I caught a whiff of something delightful - the scent of a flower. I turned around to locate the source. And I saw a girl walking behind me. There was a floral breeze from her two braided hair.

In the deep of night, my house alone stands alight. When inspiration strikes and I yearn to create something extraordinary, an unbidden thought encircles me: who is watching? Someone is watching me through the glow that pierces the darkness.

The mirror fogs up, warm and smelling like shampoo, and somehow, I look softer, like the steam made me a little better than I was before.

Disaster always comes unexpectedly. And I survived. The world still rotates as it always has. The sun still shines, and casting its warm glow upon me. Yet, here I stand, watching the world that was once familiar to me now turned upside down.

Sometimes, it feels like people are watching me, even though I’m not on stage. In those moments, I wish I could be an inanimate object. I long to be something that no one can nitpick or criticize. I know no one is actually watching me, but I still wish I could be unnoticed.

Drifting in the sea beneath the sun’s embrace, Birdsong echoes, rippling through the waves’ soft grace. I surrender to the water’s gentle pull, unaware, As I sink slowly, cradled by warmth, without a care.

Couple of years ago, I was walking in the middle of nowhere. It was hot and dry. I was getting exhausted. When I almost faded out, my vision started to turn blurry pink. It was a sunset and a donut place. Donut, my relief, my light, and my sugar.

Nobody knows what happened in the bush. Nobody knows how many people hide their secrets in the bush.

Note:

Sep 2024;

When we share a moment in time and space, we each walk away with different memories. But when those memories blur a little, something shared starts to come through. It’s in this softened focus that empathy begins, allowing us to connect through shared experiences.

Hazy memories add a unique feeling to our personal histories. What might be a negative memory for one person could be cherished by someone else. Something that feels new and exciting to one might be just part of someone else’s everyday routine. These layered experiences shape who we are, even when we’re living through the same moments.

As we grow into distinct individuals, there’s still something that ties us all together. Beyond nationality, gender, or race, we’re united by the emotions we feel. Joy and sadness come from different sources, but they belong to all of us. I focus on this shared essence—those instincts and feelings we all have—before the labels like ‘Korean,’ ‘male,’ ‘immigrant,’ or ‘student’ come into play.

There are certain things that speak to everyone: the beauty of a blue sky, the warmth of sunlight, or the rush of love. It’s not just the big things, though. Even small moments can feel universal. I used to think stacking stones on a mountain path was a uniquely Korean experience, but I’ve since learned that people in other cultures do the same.

In my work, I try to blur the specifics of my own identity—Korean, male, immigrant—through abstract choices in color, shape, and form. This approach opens the door for others to bring their own stories and experiences into the work, creating connections across different lives and memories.

I use layers of paper pulp, stacking them in uneven, irregular ways. Some of the layers are colored, while others remain bare. When I grind them together, patterns emerge that are both surprising and familiar. These shapes and forms are vague but full of feeling, reflecting my own story while also reaching out to shared human experiences.

The textures in my work, layered and varied, remind me of how memories and identities build up over time. There’s a certain order in the structure, but the organic shapes and colors that surface add a sense of unpredictability, much like how our histories emerge from under layers of experience. I want my work to invite viewers to think about their own stories—both the personal and the shared—and how those stories overlap.

The textures I create are meant to be touched with the eyes, pulling people in for a closer look. Every bump and groove in the surface reflects how memories change over time—they can fade, distort, or become sharper. Using paper pulp allows these textures to form naturally, much like how our memories resurface in unexpected ways. The physical layers mirror the complexity of our inner worlds, with their rough patches and hidden details.

I’ve also started incorporating AI-generated images into my work. These images, once manipulated and buried within the layers, blur the boundary between what’s natural and what’s digital, just like how our memories are shaped by both real experiences and the influences around us.

In the end, my goal is to create a space where personal and collective stories meet. By softening the lines between my own experiences and the emotions we all share, I want people to reflect on their own memories and how they connect with others'. The layered textures, colors, and AI elements are metaphors for the layers of identity that shape us. Ultimately, my work is about how we, as humans, navigate the complexities of memory and connection. Through this blend of material and meaning, I hope to inspire a sense of empathy, inviting people to find themselves within the abstract and realize that despite our differences, there’s always something we share.

Jan 2024;
In contemplating the interplay between the old and the new, I've come to recognize a unique depth that emerges from the aging process. While I appreciate the vibrancy of new experiences, there is a richness in the complexity that unfolds over time. This accumulated history, found in the aged and weathered, carries a profound enlightenment that captivates my fascination.

Over the course of time, a subtle stacking occurs—of experiences, of lives, and of the very land beneath our feet. The cross-section of strata serves as a visual testament to the multitude of lives that have lived and passed away. We, in turn, inhabit a timeline shaped by these layers, living through both collective history and our personal narrative forged by the accumulation of diverse experiences.

The unnoticed accumulation of time-worn elements becomes apparent only upon reflection. These vaguely gathered experiences, seemingly unremarkable at first, transform into the building blocks of individual personalities. Composed of a mosaic of experiences from different time periods, these bricks form the foundation of our concepts. As we selectively reveal the most recent or impactful experiences, we engage in a continuous process of refinement, peeling back the layers to uncover the intricacies within.

This stacking of bricks, where experiences and time intertwine, is not a mere chronological accumulation—it is a fusion of values and varied shapes coming together to give rise to novel concepts. Unexpected combinations from different eras offer fresh perspectives and insights. Through this continuous process, I, as an individual, find strength and grounding. The peculiar harmony of bricks that differ yet fit together with uncanny propriety constantly encounters new additions, creating concepts yet to be unveiled.

Oct 2023;
By accumulating experiences and emotions in their time, personality is constructed. Every single individual's experience makes each person a unique person. So, everyone understands the world in slightly different ways.

But time goes by constantly, and people keep growing, too. The world they see is continually changing, and what they perceive is a unique world to every moment that exists only at that point.

I exist. And I am a unique human being who lives on time every second. And me existing on the multiple timelines connect back and forth between the past and the future.

I couldn't imagine myself now ten years ago. But, I am somehow connected to the future, as sometimes I am enlightened from what I had in the past. So, I record what I perceive now for that time.

My present is a combination of multiple time zones. Past times exist in the contemporary time through me. The mixture of me at various times becomes a link to prove my existence in the future.

Jan 2023;
When the memory becomes the story

There is no same memory.

People remember the same thing, but no one has the "same" memory.

From the big story called life to the small things that happen daily, people live through various happenings and remember them. Since everyone's life is different, memories are also recorded in different shapes, even though they remember the same event.

Some memory becomes a story. Time passing cannot naturally makes it. It happens when people constantly consider a memory that impressed them for a long time. Only memories refined with such thoughts exist as a story.

The memory that became a story spreads, just as its name, "Story." And the story is remembered as a memory by another.

I compress the moment of my life into a frame called "Photo." And just as I live with various experiences and thoughts, I add, remove, or overturn the memory in the picture, making the memory into a story. My story is becoming more abstract. But it seems similar to my appreciation of my memory.

This process reminds me of piling a small tower with stones in the mountains when I was young. I searched the hill to find stones I liked with a vague wish. Looking at the sloppy tower I piled up, I thought my wish would come true. Maybe I am making my memory into a story in a similar way. Am I wishing myself full of stories that might have been a little better?

Everyone is living with their own story.

And I am completing my story one by one today.

Sep 2022;
As I hiked amongst the trees, there were towers I saw, built of stones, and I stared at them, fascinated.

They sat by a trail I'd often go to and over time, the trail went through changes.

Typhoons blew by and the road even flooded, but despite the changes, the towers of stone always stood.

In all the silence of that trail, among the quiet trees, the towers seemed to speak to me.

Then a thought came to me, as I looked at the stone tower: living is similar. Events of varying values constantly happen in our lives; a small inconvenience could cause us significant pain or something we were anxious about might turn out well. The story of who we are are made of the different, varying, and random things that happen in our lives.

Just as the stones are scattered, piled together to form into a tower, I gather the pieces of my experience and stack them into an amalgamation of who I am.

When I need to put down my thoughts, I still prefer to use paper and pencil. But my thoughts do not always fit into words. When this situation arises, I crumple up the paper instead, and lump them together. To me, the crumpled paper are like stones, a shape made by an unconscious nature. The wrinkled and lumpy forms somehow seem similar to my thoughts or situation.

Such things, created by the release of emotion without any clear purpose, piled up in my space, like a stone rolling down a street.

Though words can't define the stones, they became something to me. Things that were nothing began to become something. Crumpling paper made my thoughts clear, like a period to a sentence.

A tower of my sentiments solidified.

Documentation Video;
Jul 2022

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