Artist’s Note
My work begins with lived experiences—both direct and indirect—of wounds, healing, and gradual growth. I project fragile inner states and unspoken emotions onto the figures of boys and girls, unfolding life’s journey through quiet visual narratives.
Memories of childhood often remain not as clearly spoken stories, but as internal states shaped by endurance rather than expression. Emotions that could not be voiced did not simply fade with time; instead, they lingered, leaving traces within me like scars. These emotional remnants naturally seep into my work, shaping its atmosphere and form.
Continuing this practice has become a way of looking inward again and again. Through this process, I have been healing—slowly, almost imperceptibly. My work does not aim to merely record memories, but to hold the possibility of hope and reflection that can be found while moving through hardship.
Recurring motifs such as teddy bears and animal masks function as symbolic vessels for childhood wounds and lingering emotional echoes. Their familiar and gentle appearances become surfaces onto which emotions can be projected, inviting viewers to encounter their own childhood memories in return. The figures and scenes I depict hold moments where traces of pain coexist with the possibility of recovery, revealing both human vulnerability and the quiet potential for healing.
The natural elements that appear in my work form spaces that cradle anxiety and tension. For me, nature is not a backdrop, but an inner landscape—where emotions soften and recovery begins.
Human beings live within relationships, inevitably wounding and being wounded by one another. I believe these experiences do not have to remain as pain, but can gradually transform into moments of growth over time. For this reason, my work does not declare healing as something completed. It remains in progress—revisiting similar emotions repeatedly, and each time viewing them through a slightly different lens. This ongoing act itself becomes the work.
Accumulated over time, this visual language is offered as a quiet invitation. I hope it allows those who encounter my work to gently revisit their own memories and emotions, and perhaps to find, at their own pace, a small beginning toward healing.