Disconnection from a blood relationship carved a hole in my heart.
Peculiarity of the loss was too strong to be replaced.
Physical isolation from childhood pushed me away from resolution.

Five minutes walking distance from my old shabby house. The big wooden architecture. Forbidden but actually forgotten.

However, I still remember the moment of being there.

The scent of grass, the sound of cicada, and the energy of ritual history.

It lets me forget reality.
It was the only pleasure of being in tragedy.
He brought me to this town.

Where did he come from?
Putting his puzzles together through feelings.

I capture the nostalgia.
I recreate his experience.
I preserve the embodiment.

The process understands my own complexity.

Contact Information

Instgram: @jin_chilla