In winter’s mist, leaves drift like fragments of forgotten whispers, touching the earth in silence. It is a fleeting sign that winter has brushed the city’s edge, like a breath held before release.
Winter doesn't arrive silently. The sharp, cold air carries a faint scent of fire, each breath a reminder of warmth lost and the year's quiet ending. Shadows of unseen birds lift their voices, filling gaps left by the season’s retreat, their eyes fixed on a half-seen forest blurred by distance and fog.
Do you hear it? The quiet magic I once overlooked now vibrates in the season’s stillness—forms scattered and dazzling as they converge and retreat. The distant forest stirs like a living, shifting chorus of leaves and branches, pulsing and swaying. It beckons, calling souls like mine to move, to step beyond the ordinary and into the flow, where stillness is merely a pause before the next breath, the next step forward.
Petrichor is a photographic project that examines the exploration of my own existence. An untamed horse, the dome of a mottled palace, the silent sea, and a pathway that leads me toward nowhere. All of these visions have constantly revisited me. By recording these scenes which keep appearing in my memories, I am chasing the answer about what the most important thing is in the continuous change of time.
This project comes from my long-term uncertainty about growth and time. I wandered without answers to the question “what am I” for a long time, and I was getting older before I knew it. In this hesitation, I understand that the tension between adulthood and youth stems from self-existence, and my confusion about being a living being in the passage of time can not be replied by time itself but will be answered by staring down the idea of “myself”.
Light is the fundamental force that shapes photography, and recording its presence is at the center of One Day Solar. This project traces the movement and intensity of sunlight over the course of a full day, using extended exposures to make visible a continuous flow that normally escapes perception.
Working with pinhole cameras, I allowed light to accumulate on photosensitive material for hours at a time. Bright daytime sun creates dense bands and gradients, while the quieter light of dusk, night, and early morning registers as subtle tonal shifts. Rather than capturing single moments, these photographs function as records of duration—visual measurements of how light changes as the sun moves across the sky.
One Day Solar focuses on photography’s ability to translate time into form, presenting light not as an image of the world but as physical evidence of its passage.
Serenity is a photographic project that records my personal discomfort with my own existence. By putting myself in the same situation that made me uncomfortable, I was able to purposefully experience the emotional changes that the discomfort brought to me. I capture those fleeting changes and present my finally relieved state in static and unclear images.
I consider this project an experiment on myself, a series of reactionary gestures resulting from deliberate actions. I believe that life is composed as a continuous moment instead of fragmentary events, even though each photo I captured is a unique frozen moment. That is why I tried to recall these continuous moments which made me feel uneasy. Through revisiting of these uneasiness, I create an opportunity to seek a more peaceful self.
In Eclipse, the photographic process is reduced to its essential components: light, chemistry, and time. By utilizing the Chemigram, the work bypasses the lens to interact directly with the physical surface of light-sensitive metirial.
The project explores a visual language of moon-phases, where the unpredictable reactions between resists and silver halides mimic the celestial shifts of the lunar cycle. Each piece is an alchemical record of a controlled struggle: the paper is layered with various resists, then repeatedly submerged in developer and fixer under open light. This process creates organic, cratered textures and luminous gradients that evoke the ethereal glow of an eclipse.
In Eclipse, the act of image-making becomes a ritual of listening to light. These images are not windows through experience but echoes of experience, inviting reflection on perception, fragility, and the luminous choreography between chance and intention.