Artist Note

All objects and energies that exist in this world have their own voices. I want to be the messenger to deliver the voices. My artwork is completed in collaboration with another me, playing, dancing, singing and humming songs, and entering ecstasy in high spirit. Playing, dancing, singing, writing, and painting. All these actions are the same thing to me. The one is sometimes completed by painting and other times by music.

The exterior of my artwork is seeing with the eyes while the interior of my artwork is listening with the mind. Each time, My calling of another me begins with throwing myself away and meeting another me. For me, music and art are artistic actions not being done separately but becoming one together.

Artists do not die because of their old bodies. They die at the moment their spirit stops. Art is the one who deceives me the most. Art is the extravagance that deceives you best. Art is deceiving and being deceived well. Art deceives much and becomes happier when it deceives more.

In the spring of Mt. Jirisan, your freshness was cheeky. In the summer of Mt. Jirisan, I envied your youth. In the autumn of Mt. Jirisan, I envied your glamour. In the winter of Mt. Jirisan, you settle in my body, embracing all the faults of spring, summer, and fall in that frame, Kalpa.

Treading the ground, looking at the sky, listening to the wind, and drinking the air. Mt. Jirisan, I am the biggest thief in the world, who would be with you eternally, robbing your everything for thousands of years and locking it up in this palm-sized place.

A lot of leaves melt the whole body for hundreds of days and engrave Kalpa on a copper plate. I sneaked everything and just knocked on the world with their requiem.

I just put you in the underwater palace for 1,000 days and pushed your back until Kalpa of the world on your whole body was washed away, but now, the sound will ring itself for the eternity of time.
Old stains become manure for years of Kalpa since I buried you in the soil of Mt. Jirisan, and the requiem of a new soul vibrates by the whole body.

Split to pieces to become rocks, rolling to become stones, and being kicked as millet stones by my tiptoes, but how come you never abandon me even once and bring me the eyes of the sky on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of Mt. Jirisan! I would know your mind only after experiencing hundreds of millions of years. I melt some of myself in you.

You knew everything even though you didn’t say anything and closed your eyes. You gave me whatever I wanted, not sparing anything. You gave me everything without any reasons or conditions. I took it for granted that I should receive everything. I noticed your voice in the dream I had this morning. sky, ground. You were the mother.