A seemingly simple whipped cream cake hiding two different cream flavors inside
Now that I’ve turned 30, I often find
myself thinking, “Even at 30, I still don’t really know myself.” Until now, I
thought I knew myself quite well — what makes me happy, what kind of people I
like, what clothes suit me, what foods upset my stomach, what foods comfort me,
and so on. But every now and then, I suddenly discover a version of myself that
I had never noticed before. I thought I was one kind of person, but maybe I
wasn’t. Or perhaps I was that person all along, and I simply misunderstood
myself.
At moments like this, I wonder whether this is one of the many selves
that had been hiding inside me for 30 years and suddenly decided to appear, or
if it is a completely new self that I created while living my life. And at the
same time, I start wondering: then how many versions of me are actually in
there? Quite often, it genuinely feels as if there are countless different
people living inside me.
Blue-Flavored Cookies & Cream Cookie
Have you ever heard of the uncanny valley? It’s a psychological concept suggesting that humans tend to fear or dislike things that resemble humans imperfectly more than things that do not resemble humans at all. But strangely, I like those things. Whenever I see something slightly off, awkwardly imitated, or subtly misplaced, I find myself drawn to it.
Raspberry Fragile Layers
I grew up believing that handling everything alone was a sign of maturity.
So I became used to doing many things by myself — traveling alone, eating alone,
studying and working alone.
I was even proud of it, thinking I had become an independent adult.
But living in a new culture has been surprising. Here, people share their emotions and thoughts
so naturally. For someone like me, who thought independence meant quietly
swallowing emotions, that still feels unfamiliar. I’m not fully used to it yet,
but I think I’m learning to enjoy it. Being more honest has made life feel
softer somehow. At the same time, life here sometimes feels too slow, too free.
I spent so long wanting a life without pressure, yet now that I have it, I don’t
quite know how to exist in it. And it’s funny — even here, I still find myself
competing alone.
Weekly Special Snack bag
In the pd seminar I'm taking, we set our own alter egos to make the glasses matching them. I wrote down about my alter ego without any hesitation,
but then one question came to my mind, which is "How close is my alter ego to real me?"
Hello, my name is Milo.
I really like Marvel movies, especially Spider-Man and Venom, where the characters have insect-like powers or wear creepy masks. I often imagine becoming someone like that.
I'm fascinated by lizards and frogs because of their unique skin, patterns, and sounds. For the same reason, I also love slimy, squishy sea creatures and yes, I enjoy eating them too like sea cucumbers, sea squirts, live octopus…etc.
Before going to bed, I often listen to frog ASMR. It helps me fall asleep. I also enjoy listening to music from different cultures, even when I don't understand the lyrics. These days, I'm into French pop.
I like clothes with unusual textures and delicately handcrafted accessories. Looking closely at them, I can almost imagine the time and care that went into making them.
On weekends, I like visiting small, quiet parks, lakes, or hidden places surrounded by nature. Watching clouds drift by, listening to insects, and paying attention to tiny movements that most people overlook makes me feel calm.
I also love collecting little things from nature—plants, insects, and small discoveries. I'm especially drawn to mantises, beetles, lizards, and frogs. Somehow, I always notice things that other people find strange or unpleasant. I even think rotten banana peels with black spots or sprouting sweet potatoes are beautiful.
One day, I'd like to become a nature communicator. My mom thinks that's ridiculous, but I still believe I could learn to communicate with frogs.
My interest in nature doesn't come from its calmness or serenity, but from its weirdness and the unique characteristics of the creatures that live within it.
After I wrote down it, I got confused.
A gooey, dripping Matilda chocolate cake
When I think of South Korea, the first words that come to mind are speed and
efficiency. Most tasks can be completed with just a few taps on a smartphone
screen, and we are connected to the internet almost everywhere we go. Compared
to the unstable connections and unpredictable conditions described in Tropical
Technologist, this feels like the complete opposite environment.
What stayed with me after reading the essay was not technology itself, but the
cultural attitude toward waiting. In places where connections are unreliable and
interruptions are part of everyday life, waiting becomes something people naturally
learn to live with. In South Korea, however, speed and efficiency have long been treated
as unquestionable values. A delayed delivery, a slow internet connection, or even a late
reply to a message can easily become a source of frustration.
Perhaps technology has not only saved us time but also reduced our ability to
tolerate waiting. Efficiency has become increasingly important, while waiting
is often perceived as inefficiency, inconvenience, or even unfairness. As a
result, we are able to accomplish more in less time, yet we seem to have
become less patient with situations that do not unfold according to our
expectations. Tropical Technologist presents a world in which technology and
environment are constantly negotiating with one another. Reading it made me
realize how much South Korean society has developed in the opposite
direction—toward eliminating waiting whenever possible. It also left me
wondering what might have been lost in that process.
Is that real rose? cake
Small images in the digital world.
How do they communicate with the world? Or maybe: what role do digital
images play once they are separated from reality? I keep thinking that visiting
a website and visiting a real place should be different experiences. A website
does not need to reproduce reality. If that were the goal, there will always be
a better photograph somewhere else.
I was reminded of a family trip to the Grand Canyon years ago. I remember our guide looking at all the tourists taking photos
and saying something along the lines of: “If you search for the Grand Canyon on
Google, you'll find hundreds of images that are sharper and better than the ones
you're taking right now. So stop taking pictures for a moment and actually
look.” At the time, I didn't think much about it, but I keep coming back to that
memory. An image is not the experience itself.
So what should web images do?
Maybe web design is not only about arranging information, but about creating
images that can only exist on the web. This is why ASCII art feels interesting
to me. It feels native to the web—digital, but strangely analogue at the same
time. At a moment when AI-generated images are everywhere, I find myself more
interested in images that do not try to perfectly imitate reality, but instead
embrace the qualities of the medium they belong to.
'Yes, I'm who I am' cake
The illustration fair in Leipzig left me
with more questions than answers.
One of my favorite moments was the reading
performance. I was fascinated by how scenes from a comic were brought into
physical space. It was neither fully two-dimensional nor three-dimensional, but
something in between. It made me realize that storytelling doesn't have to stay
on a page or a screen.
The fair also made me think more seriously about
illustration and my own position as a designer. Lately, I've been asking myself
what I actually want to focus on. I know how important it is to develop a clear
position, but at the same time, committing to one direction feels scary. I'm
interested in too many things, and I worry about losing interest once I define
myself too narrowly. Maybe that's why I came to the fair in the first place—to
see whether illustration is something I genuinely want to pursue or just another
temporary curiosity. For now, I'm still excited by it. But thinking about it
won't give me an answer. The only thing I can do is keep making things and see
what stays with me over time.
Pretty, but also taste good dounuts
I had almost forgotten how
important input is.
When there are too many things to do, I tend to spend all my
energy simply getting through them, and I keep postponing the time to look at
things, absorb ideas, and find inspiration. That's exactly how I've been feeling
these days. To be honest, I felt a little burdened by the Pre-Diplom and Diplom
presentations. Still, I really wanted to attend the Pre-Diplom. First, I had
watched the preparation process from nearby and was curious to see how everyone
would present their work and install the exhibition. Second, because I had
designed Sue's poster, I somehow felt like I was part of the project myself.
While watching the presentations, everything felt surprisingly close to me.
Having already gone through a graduation exhibition in Korea, I shared many of
the same experiences. I could imagine the amount of stress, uncertainty, and
countless decisions that must have led each project to this point, and that made
me appreciate the presentations even more. During my own graduation exhibition,
I constantly questioned what kind of work I should present rather than what I
genuinely wanted to make. I revised my project over and over again, almost until
the exhibition opened. Making the work was one challenge; convincing other
people of its value was another. I felt that I had to do both. Even now, I still
don't think I've found an answer. In many ways, I feel that design gives me
stronger tools for communicating and persuading people than fine art does.
Lately, I've been thinking about how my previous experiences can become an
advantage. As an artist or designer, defining a clear position can be risky, but
in my experience, it is usually more beneficial than not. That's why I'm already
trying to find that position, even if it means taking risks. The question
occupying my mind these days is simple: What kind of designer do I want to
become, and how can I persuade people through my work?
Multi-layered plum pastry
As the second semester began, I started to feel more pressure. Or maybe it isn't pressure—maybe it's ambition. I want to dig deeper into my own taste. I genuinely like my taste, but I still don't know how to express it well. I think I do a fairly good job of expressing who I am in everyday life, yet somehow it's much harder to translate that into my work—to interpret it through design. For example, dressing in a way that reflects my taste has never been difficult for me. But putting that taste into words, or explaining it through my work, feels like a completely different challenge.
Incredibly Fresh Bing-su
Have I ever lived through a summer where
the temperature climbed above 40°C? Summers in Korea are brutally hot too, but I
don't think they've ever made me cry. Today, I found myself in tears because of
the heat. Watching myself like that, I realized that living in an unfamiliar
place means every single day brings a new challenge. Only now do I find myself
often thinking that I want to go back to Korea. It's almost absurd to realize
that all my determination and ambition can be shaken by something as small as
this. At the same time, I'm beginning to understand how fragile determination,
ambition, and passion for one's dreams really are.
For so long, I believed those
things were what life was about. But perhaps life is simply about eating good
food, staying close to the people you love, and recharging yourself by spending
time with them. Maybe life isn't about relentlessly chasing your ambitions,
earning more money, or reaching some impressive destination through the work you
want to do. Living here has made me realize that. The romance and sense of ease
I imagined Europe would offer now seem, when viewed up close, like luxuries that
can only exist from a distance. In the reality of survival and everyday life,
they often feel like exactly that—luxuries.
Sugar high chocolate Bomb
Ever since the heatwave, I've felt
strangely drained. Even though I have far more to do this semester than I did
last semester, I've managed my time much better. I haven't had to rush or pull
last-minute all-nighters. On the surface, everything is moving along smoothly.
But inside, I feel restless, anxious, and exhausted. I hope it's something as
simple as the heat.
Recently, I heard that a friend's mother had been diagnosed
with pancreatic cancer. She had been so excited to move to Europe this autumn to
begin her studies, and we had even planned to meet here in September. Hearing
that she was now considering giving up that dream to stay by her mother's side
left me heartbroken. After that, I couldn't stop worrying. What if my own mother
became ill? I wouldn't even be able to get back to Korea immediately.
From there, all the hardships and loneliness I've experienced since moving here came
rushing back. I don't think it's school that's exhausting me. I think it's
simply living here. Speaking in a language that isn't my own every day requires
so much mental energy. And constantly trying to prove who I am—to communicate
the person I know myself to be—means that even when I come home, it never really
feels like I'm resting. My mind and body seem to stay in a constant state of
tension. No one knows when this feeling will pass, or how long it will take.
Even after things get better, there's no guarantee they won't suddenly become
difficult again. And yet, despite all of that, life keeps asking you to move
forward. Sometimes, that feels a little lonely.
Homemade salt butter bread
드디어 여기서의 1년이 마무리되었다. 처음에 왔을 때는 마냥 설레고 공부를
다시 시작한 것에 대한 즐거움이 컸다. 그래서인지 여전히 집을 못구하고, 비자도 받아야하고, 처리해야할 행정처리가 많음에도 불구하고 그렇게
힘들지 않았다. 여기 있음에 매일 감사하고 앞으로의 여정이 기대됐다. 그런데 크리스마스 이후부터 나의 마음에 조금씩 변화가 오기 시작한 것
같다. 그 때 처음으로 든 생각이 왜 이렇게 휴식이 많을까였다. 이상하다. 이 학교에서 너무 많은 break가 있는 것이 조금은 불만스러웠다.
나는 계속 달리고 싶은데 중간에 제동장치가 너무 많아서 앞으로 잘 나아가지 못하는 느낌이 들었다. 이제서야 조금 적응하고 이제서야 내가 작업을
좀 해나갈 수 있을 것 같을 때 멈춰야해서 그게 나를 힘들게 했다. 더구나 나는 여기에 가족도 없고 친구도 없어 긴 휴식의 기간을 보내는 일이
어려웠다. 그저 집에 오래 머물고, 혼자서 시간을 보내는 일을 더 자주하는 것이 다였다.
물론 여기서 좋은 친구들을 많이 만나고 가까워졌지만
여기서 생활하는것은 매번 나라는 사람을 계속 설명해야하는 것과 같다. 언어와 환경에 따라 나라는 사람도 달라진다는 걸 느끼는게 그래서 나조차도
여기서의 내가 새롭고 어색하다. 내가 알던 나와 다를 때 나는 사람들과 있는 것에 두려움을 느끼기도 하고 설렘을 느끼기도 한다. 이게 좋을 때도
있지만 안좋을 때는 나를 몹시 괴롭힌다. 그게 나를 가장 힘들게 하는 일 중 하나이다. 또 다른 긴 휴식기를 앞두고 나는 두려움이 앞선다.
그치만 너무 깊이 생각하지 않기도 한다. 걱정일 뿐 아직 안좋은 일은 일어나지 않았으니까 그냥 일단은 끝까지 Rundgang까지 잘 마무리하기로
한다. 물론 모든 것이 끝나니 내가 만들어낸 결과물에 뿌듯함을 느낀다. 역시 욕심을 부리면 과정은 조금 힘들지라도 결과적으로는 배우는 것도 많고
결과에 만족하게 된다. 그 사실을 이미 경험으로 몸이 알고 있어서인지 늘 나는 욕심을 조금씩 부리는 것 같다. 이번 학기 시작 전에도 친구들은
빡셀거라며 PD 수업 듣는 것을 말렸지만 그래도 나는 듣고 싶었고 역시나 만족스럽다.
앞으로 나는 계속 욕심을 부리지 않을까 싶다. 휴식을
배우고 싶다고 늘 말하지만 여전히, 여기와서도 여전히 나는 그게 제일 어렵다. 나는 도무지 잘 휴식하는 법을 모르겠다. 늘 생각이 많고 잘하고
싶은 욕심이 생기고, 나를 계속 채칙찔한다. 그게 절대적으로 나쁜 것이라고 할 수는 없지만, 사실 대체로 나에게 도움이 되지만, 내가 받는
스트레스는 항상 크다. 이번에도 다짐한다. 휴식을 잘 하자고...그치만 벌써부터 내 머릿 속은 방학동안에 어떻게 하면 내가 더 발전할 수
있을지, 어떤 작업을 더 할 수 있을지로 가득해서 스트레스 받는다.