I grew up in Seoul and now live in Gyeonggi-do, just outside the city. Since childhood, I’ve always loved making and drawing things. It felt very natural to follow that path into my work today.

I studied Western painting in an art high school and later majored in animation at the Korea National University of Arts. Drawing has always been something I loved, and I started to believe that maybe this was the way I could be of help to others.

Music, in particular, often makes me want to draw. There are so many artists who have inspired me—it’s hard to list them all. But I’ve especially looked at the works of Monet and Egon Schiele over the years.

I’m also deeply inspired by nature itself. I find endless beauty there, and I often feel like all I’m doing is trying to imitate that beauty onto paper. Traveling, especially, gives me a chance to see more of this natural beauty and find inspiration in unfamiliar places. It’s a way for me to keep learning, always.

Nature feels like a completed artwork in itself. My role is simply to mirror a small part of its beauty onto paper. I want to keep seeing more of this world’s wonder—and learn from it constantly. A recurring emotion in my work is loneliness. To me, it’s an essential feeling. Loneliness allows me to look inward, to have sincere conversations with myself. I think that quiet dialogue is what sustains much of my practice.

When I first received AHLEM’s proposal and reviewed the reference materials, I was struck by the craftsmanship and subtle beauty of their spaces. When I received one of AHLEM’s frames myself, I was genuinely moved by its delicacy and completeness. That feeling became the foundation for how I approached the project.

I carefully observed the distinct details of each city’s boutique and began drawing with those impressions in mind. Although I couldn’t visit the locations in person, the photographs conveyed enough of the atmosphere for me to work from. While drawing with a blue pen on paper, I often thought about the hands that shaped each frame, and I tried to reflect that spirit—filling every space with care, never casually.

I believe architecture and interior spaces are an extension of nature. I’m drawn to ecosystems—land and sea, plants and marine life—and how they shape their environments. The curves of a tree branch offer a lot of expressive freedom.

Manmade spaces also contain beauty, though often through vertical and horizontal lines—like the rhythm of repeated windows.I saw that same kind of quiet rhythm in AHLEM’s boutiques, especially in the way a planter was placed within a certain rule or order.

I also think of ant tunnels and birds’ nests as part of nature—structures made with intention and instinct. In AHLEM’s boutiques, I could feel the presence of natural forms, especially in the curvature of a wooden door or the placement of small objects. Within the regularity of these spaces, I found pieces of nature—and freedom.

The most memorable moment was seeing and touching the frame in person. I’ve seen many glasses over the years, but I was genuinely amazed by how complete and thoughtful every part of it was. From there, I started discovering equally surprising details in each boutique—and every line I drew became a joyful moment.

I want to be the kind of artist who simply continues doing what I can—consistently, quietly, and with care. To me, it's not about being good or bad. What matters most is whether I can enjoy the process itself.

Every time I hear advice that affirms this way of thinking, I feel my heart respond. And I think that’s the one thing I would want to share with young artists, too: In a world overflowing with fast and efficient results, it's more important than ever to hold onto the joy of doing, not just achieving.

If I could go back and say something to my younger self, it would be this as well. I wish I had taken better care of my health, instead of rushing and pushing myself to produce visible outcomes. Now I try to trust the slow path—and dream of a life where I can keep making, at my own pace, for a very long time.