People and Blue

Artist Statement

I have continued my work as a series of questions and confessions about the being I have long faced — the dot. I have always felt that the world begins from the dot《●》. The dot is small and faint, yet what it holds within it is infinite. It is both beginning and end, an instant where the moments of generation and dissolution overlap. So for me the dot is not a mere geometric form; it is a condensed language about life and existence. The dots in my work are not simply jabbed onto the canvas with a brush. I have studied the material for a long time, considering even the density and viscosity of the acrylic itself, the drying time, and the flow of air, and have placed each carefully crafted bead of paint onto the canvas one by one. The dot is not a trace on a flat surface but rises up as a small sculptural being. Like a living particle, it breathes on its own. When light reaches these three-dimensional dots, the dot acquires another visual life. The small protrusions formed as the paint rises cast shadows when struck by light, and their length and direction shift delicately with the angle of illumination. The higher the dot, the longer the shadow; the lower the dot, the shorter and more subtle. Across the surface, each dot creates its own different shadow, as if each carries its own time. Within these shadows I see the corporeality of the dot. The dot is not a mere trace of color but a three-dimensional being holding light and time, silently affirming its own place. The surface is still, yet within it there is a quiet, unmistakable movement, and that is what gives the work its life. The dot was, in the end, myself. In childhood, amid loneliness and lack, pencil and crayon were my friends, and drawing was my only language. At sixteen, after losing my father, when I was drawing in a semi-basement room in Seoul, painting poster colors onto the wall, I felt for the first time: "Drawing is the proof that I am alive." That is why even now, the act of placing a dot is not a mere task. It is a confession of being alive, an act of imprinting myself onto the world. As I continue working, I think a great deal between dot and dot. Loneliness and connection, balance and tension, breath and repetition. A single dot looks like an independent being, but in fact each dot senses the existence of the others. Coexisting in harmony without intruding upon each other — that quality resembles the structure of relationship I think of as ideal. So my work is a story about "being," "relationship," and "connection." Even dots that appear uniform on the surface, when looked at closely, hold a different vitality. According to the pressure, breath, and rhythm born at my fingertips, each dot is born subtly differently. Unique individuals shaped within an identical form. This in turn symbolizes the diversity and singularity of human existence. When those dots gather into a cluster and reach harmony on a single surface, that becomes a metaphor for the human community. Through the dot I want to hold a quiet conversation with the viewer. The interval between dot and dot is both "distance" and "the possibility of relationship." Within that interval lie my emotions and thoughts. Not too far, not too close. A distance at which we recognize one another warmly without intruding. So I hope the work approaches each viewer differently, according to their own emotion and interpretation. I placed the dots, but I want them to expand into other meanings within the gaze of those who see them. In truth, as I repeat the act of placing dots each day, at some point it began to feel like a heartbeat. Each act of placing a dot has become the rhythm of my life and the amplitude of my feeling. Sometimes quiet, sometimes strong, sometimes paused. Following that rhythm, I find myself once again face to face with a self that is alive. Living through a single day has itself become the work, and the strength to continue working comes again from daily life. Whenever I face the canvas — the ground of life — I ask: Is this dot true? Is this position right? I sometimes hesitate before placing a single dot, and because I know that one dot can shift the balance of the entire surface, I become all the more careful. For me the dot is never light. It is the work of drawing the inner resonance outward, of making visible an invisible weight. The dot is simple, yet never simple. Layered within it are the time, emotions, memories, and questions I have lived through. The form of the dot is a quiet question I throw out into the world. Who are we, why do we exist, how are we connected? This question is the theme that runs through all of my work. To place a dot is, for me, prayer, silence, and declaration. The instant a single dot is set down, I come alive again. And those gathered dots make yet another world. So I place dots every day. To prove my own existence, and to be connected to someone. I believe that within a single dot holding life and warmth, the universe is contained. I hope my work becomes a quiet consolation for someone, and for someone else an occasion to look inward at themselves. If my dot reaches someone's heart, that very moment will be the instant in which a true connection is born. From a single dot to the universe — even today my art begins again from a small world.