I’ll listen to it. Hi.Hi. Hi.
I can hear the sound of the pigeon tomorrow

There is a child who wants to talk. In order to grow up, the child constantly moved things that were hard to spit out in words onto empty paper.

Happy time with loved ones, the distantness of the time when you can’t go back, and the unknown gloom. Sadness awaits at the end of every emotion. The wait was warm. It was hoped that those who faced the blue portrait would make a story of their own sadness, whether it be affectionate sadness or bitter sadness. I picked up a brush.

Recently, my sadness has been a painful sadness. It seemed that the body could not withstand the lump in the chest. But the empty Korean paper made me hold out. Holding on, emptying my mind

Korean paper keeps the water in a quiet. As time passed, when the water dried up and only the color remained, it felt as if my pain had been transferred. I tried to cover up the traces of the wound on the paper with a more silent face and more colorful colors. But they poured out more stories. From the beginning, painting couldn’t be hiding me.

I wonder if I’ll be bright if I draw a fancy picture.

I want to listen to our minds, who don’t talk behind their backs, but have to..