In ancient times, human beings tried to interpret the world through the lens of changing time. The alternation between night and day was expressed using the horizontal monogram characters of the I Ching: yin (--) and yang (-). Stacking lines on the vertical axis allowed more complicated trigram characters to be formed (☰, ☷, etc.), which appeared as knots tied in strings that were simplified into lines. These lines described shapes, which signified objects and served as the seed of not only writing and drawing but also the arts of calligraphy and painting. The development of these ancient lines over a long period led to a unification of the characters, and writing and painting split into different disciplines. The story of the origin, development, and separation of writing and painting (as well as the story of the lines and characters in the ancient I Ching text) is roughly summarized in this exhibition.

This is an attempt to express the modern "life-world" using characters or symbols from before writing and painting took different paths, before the unity of the two was broken.

"Life-world" refers to "the subjective and everyday world in which we live." The artist subjectively looks at the space of everyday life around her and tries to express her views of life and nature. The movements and relationships in real life have become extremely limited due to a virus that human beings have never faced before. This situation has made me more interested in conveying the daily life of individual human beings than in grander modes of discourse.

The object in the daily world that concerns this exhibition is the willow tree. The theme of this work is the artist’s subjective "following" of the willow trees near this everyday space.

Willows do not resist the wind but surrender themselves to it. They can also break away from this passive behavior and actively dance. Projecting this following essence of a willow tree on to human beings suggests an abandonment of oneself and the following of others. But human beings must also make subjective decisions about what aspects of others to follow. Through this contrast, we can find the path of difference.

As the artist discovered willow trees, she simultaneously discovered the movement of life in ponds and streams around her living space. Willow trees have their own processes of growth and death, and the surrounding soil, water, rain, and wind interact with the trees.

The character for “willow tree” (柳) is a combination of the characters for “tree” (木) and “flowing” (卯). This combination suggests a tree (木) with long, flowing (卯) branches. Looking at the construction of the tree character (木), it is composed of an upper part (屮), which is an image of a sprout pushing through the ground, and a lower part, which is a image of roots. With the tree trunk as the center, the branches extend upwards, and the roots extend downwards. When writing “|”, the direction of the stroke is important; it must be made from the bottom to the top. The “艸” character refers to all plants, but “屮” emphasizes the sprouts of the plants. Each stroke of these ancient characters reflects the direction of the object being depicted.

In the characters used, meaning and image coexist, creating a collection of brush strokes and shapes that contain the principle of existence. The difference in the vibration of life is expressed in all parts of each living organism through the wavering of the lines. This strives to give individuality to the stem and the leaves of each tree through the distinctness of the lines. The lines resemble breathing in and out or the day and night cycle; they are similar, but each has its own individuality. However, as a whole, the lines that fill the entire canvas are meant to create an organic shape and meaning with a flow of energy.

The artist’s journey with the willow trees took her to Banghwasuryujeong Pavilion, which is in the northeast corner of Suwon Hwaseong Fortress. In the past, using the water that flowed in a stream near the pavilion, Yongyeon Pond was constructed, which was surrounded by willows. The pavilion, fortress, steam, pond, and trees were all in harmony. The pavilion has an elegant name that suits the surroundings. It could mean “finding flowers” or “following the willows.” Thinking of the meaning of “following the willows” reminded me of “䷐”, the 17th hexagram of the I Ching. In this hexagram, the upper part (☱) means “pond” and the lower part (☳) means “thunder.” When thunder moves under the pond, it means that the water of the pond is rippling and bubbling with joy. Looking at Yongyeon Pond from Banghwasuryujeong Pavilion, the artist was able to create a composition in which the pond is placed at the top of the canvas and a commercial product of modernity—an automobile, which corresponds to moving thunder—is placed at the bottom of the canvas. The 17th hexagram has been interpreted in many ways, but it contains the concept of “following” and the difficulty of living harmoniously with others. In a situation where the top may follow the bottom, the bottom may follow the top, I may follow another, or another may follow me, isn’t the ultimate goal to find a harmonious direction in this thunder in the midst of the pond? These are my thoughts.

Most of these works were inspired by the landscape of willow trees that the artist experienced around her. How can “following” like the willow tree be realized in the lives of modern people?