Charcoal work

My work is a quiet search — a journey into memory, time, and the traces that remain. Using charcoal on wood, I rub, erase, and draw, not to cover or correct, but to reveal what lies beneath. Each mark I erase becomes an act of remembering, and each number — 1, 2, 3 — is like the click of a shutter, capturing fleeting moments that try not to be forgotten.

Repetition forms the rhythm of this remembering. Writing the same sequence again and again is a meditative gesture, not just for the hand but for the mind — like chanting or breathing, it carries the weight of persistence.

Among the numbers, if you look closely, you’ll find small interruptions — “Thank you”, or “고마워” — tucked between the lines like whispered messages. These quiet insertions are not just decorative but intentional. They are offerings. Words of gratitude hidden in the act of remembering. They hint that even memory, in its repetition and erosion, can be a form of soft thanks.

There is no final image. There is no perfect recall. My practice is about holding space for what is fading and honoring the effort to bring it back — gently, imperfectly, and with care.