Artist’s Notes
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Time is so quiet that we don’t notice it passing in the moment.
In the end, we only remember it through the traces it leaves behind.
Can we really call this momnet ‘now’?
How much of it can I truly hold in my heart?
And how many more beautiful moments do I have left ahead of me?
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Not every moment feels like the moment.
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Can a part stand for the whole?
Could it be that these tones and traces that remain now matter more than the whole itself?
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Czech trees drip a lot of sap. Once, walking home after a workout, I noticed a car parked under the tree. It must have been still for a long time—the glass was so thickly veiled in sap that I couldn’t see inside. And yet, the bluish tone of that window was, more than anything else, sharply alive.
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Where are we heading to? .. I don’t know.
Thrown this world, I feel there are lots of tranquil moments passing even though I didn't notice. They will never be back.
But it is really obvious that it was there.
I just missed that.
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Wonder of the speed of time.
How much my conscious is attached to now: fleeting moments. To me, time is so fast that my mind cannot grab. That gap between the past and now generates pain.
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이미 흘러버린 시간과 앞으로 흘려버릴 시간은 다르지 않다.
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시간을 붙잡아 보려함.
거기에 수반되는 시선, 노력, 고통, 기쁨, 허무감
축적된 시간은 흐르는 시간과 다른가, 지나간 시간이 말하는 것들
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<time>
Where is time?
soot on glass that I can easily remove,
there it is
I just need a lighter, burn some glasses
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< 곰리: Koan>
Seeing Gormley’s sculpture,
I tried the poses.
어딘가 불편함,
그래서 더 시선이 머무는.
That is zen