Personal Archive

흩어진 계절들이 모여,
하나의 온전한 삶이 된다

On horseback, I learned to master my breath before the reins. In the quiet of the dojo, I learned to stand steady at the tip of a bamboo sword. Whenever dust rose from the field, the boy's heart began to race again — and the moment I breathed my first note into a trumpet, the whole world seemed to fall silent. Each of these unfolded on a different stage, in a different hour, yet looking back, they trace a single, continuous line. And so I have gathered what once lay scattered, and set it down quietly here, on this page.