Artwork description: This work is a record of a meditative practice—the repetitive act of lampworking aimed at silencing inner turmoil. By relinquishing formative desires, the accumulated time materializes into pure glass 'nodules.' The taut tension of heavy glass precariously weighing down a white fabric pouch against the wall serves as a metaphor for endured psychological weight, creating a profound visual tension as if suppressed time is seeping into the space.
Artwork description long: Condensed Time and the Spatiality of Non-Action. This installation materializes the trajectory of a meditative practice—the repetitive act of working with glass to soothe psychological friction and inner turmoil—into the physical exhibition space. Just as everyone experiences periods of unexpected void and wandering, the years I navigated in the past were marked by a succession of heavy and precarious emotions. The lampworking technique I encountered during that time was more than a mere glass-forming skill; it was a profound medium for healing. The time spent before the intense heat, entirely immersed in the movement of my body and the viscous, melting properties of glass, became a silent ritual of emptying out suppressed thoughts. I deliberately let go of the artificial desire and formative intent to create something "beautiful," immersing myself solely in my breath and the act itself to reach a state of mental emptiness. As a result, the invisibly accumulated time of my fierce practice materialized into physical silhouettes. I named these imperfect glass masses "Nodules" (결절). In medical terms, a nodule refers to a hardened defense mechanism formed by enduring continuous friction and wounds. Similarly, these masses are not planned aesthetic objects; they are the inevitable lumps and calluses that fell from my body and mind, hardened through the process of enduring the weight of time and emotional friction. By relinquishing my obsession with form, the glass naturally found its primordial, round shapes. Within these masses lies a diverse variation of transparency, opacity, and deep ink-like blacks—traces that encapsulate the fluctuating density and concentration of my emotions during those repetitive hours of practice. To visualize this internal accumulation, I rejected the traditional method of displaying glass as an isolated craft object placed safely on a pedestal. Instead, I integrated the artwork directly into the architectural space by utilizing a thin fabric pouch with the exact texture and color of the exhibition's white walls. The sculptural tension created when hundreds of heavy glass nodules tautly press down on the flexible fabric, along with the precariousness that looks as if it could tear and spill at any moment, is a direct metaphor for my psychological state: suppressing inner anxiety and barely managing to maintain emotional balance. Through the tautly stretched fabric, the bumpy silhouettes of the nodules revealed beneath it, and the heavy shadow cast below, the audience intuitively senses the massive weight of emotions that are not fully exposed. Staged as if a mass of time—having quietly accumulated within the solid white architecture—is slowly seeping outward, this work attempts to demonstrate how an individual's fierce healing process meets physical space to create an overwhelming visual tension. Ultimately, this work is a record of Wu-wei (Non-Action)—reaching the true essence of the medium by relinquishing control over its form. It is my own artistic language, attempting to expand the boundaries of glass art through a sensitive understanding of space. I hope that the heavy weight of these nodules, silently holding on without falling despite the precarious tension, will reach out with deep resonance and comfort to audiences who are also enduring their own turbulent times.
Artwork description long: Condensed Time and the Spatiality of Non-Action. This installation materializes the trajectory of a meditative practice—the repetitive act of working with glass to soothe psychological friction and inner turmoil—into the physical exhibition space. Just as everyone experiences periods of unexpected void and wandering, the years I navigated in the past were marked by a succession of heavy and precarious emotions. The lampworking technique I encountered during that time was more than a mere glass-forming skill; it was a profound medium for healing. The time spent before the intense heat, entirely immersed in the movement of my body and the viscous, melting properties of glass, became a silent ritual of emptying out suppressed thoughts. I deliberately let go of the artificial desire and formative intent to create something "beautiful," immersing myself solely in my breath and the act itself to reach a state of mental emptiness. As a result, the invisibly accumulated time of my fierce practice materialized into physical silhouettes. I named these imperfect glass masses "Nodules" (결절). In medical terms, a nodule refers to a hardened defense mechanism formed by enduring continuous friction and wounds. Similarly, these masses are not planned aesthetic objects; they are the inevitable lumps and calluses that fell from my body and mind, hardened through the process of enduring the weight of time and emotional friction. By relinquishing my obsession with form, the glass naturally found its primordial, round shapes. Within these masses lies a diverse variation of transparency, opacity, and deep ink-like blacks—traces that encapsulate the fluctuating density and concentration of my emotions during those repetitive hours of practice. To visualize this internal accumulation, I rejected the traditional method of displaying glass as an isolated craft object placed safely on a pedestal. Instead, I integrated the artwork directly into the architectural space by utilizing a thin fabric pouch with the exact texture and color of the exhibition's white walls. The sculptural tension created when hundreds of heavy glass nodules tautly press down on the flexible fabric, along with the precariousness that looks as if it could tear and spill at any moment, is a direct metaphor for my psychological state: suppressing inner anxiety and barely managing to maintain emotional balance. Through the tautly stretched fabric, the bumpy silhouettes of the nodules revealed beneath it, and the heavy shadow cast below, the audience intuitively senses the massive weight of emotions that are not fully exposed. Staged as if a mass of time—having quietly accumulated within the solid white architecture—is slowly seeping outward, this work attempts to demonstrate how an individual's fierce healing process meets physical space to create an overwhelming visual tension. Ultimately, this work is a record of Wu-wei (Non-Action)—reaching the true essence of the medium by relinquishing control over its form. It is my own artistic language, attempting to expand the boundaries of glass art through a sensitive understanding of space. I hope that the heavy weight of these nodules, silently holding on without falling despite the precarious tension, will reach out with deep resonance and comfort to audiences who are also enduring their own turbulent times.