Pitiful sheep
Maeeeee….
In the inevitable pull toward unity, we are but fragments of a tender, restless longing for difference. Humans are like sheep—frail, repetitive, emitting faint waves of sound as they gather in flocks. Driven by the desperate urge to avoid separation, we feel the deep, raw terror that comes from even the slightest distance from the crowd. And so, people do not merely conform out of “compulsion” but actively yearn to belong, to merge. Most remain unaware of this desire for sameness, convinced they follow their own tastes and minds. They see themselves as individualists, navigating by personal views and reaching their beliefs independently, living in the gentle illusion that any alignment with others is pure chance—a faint solace.
Even the desire for uniqueness finds comfort in the smallest differences: a larger handbag, the color of curtains in a room, the nametag on a bank teller’s uniform, or the initials embroidered on a sweater.
Amugae, 2024, mixed media ,100x100
Amugae
2024
Mixed media, Single-channel video, 0:11, 100 x 100 x 7 cm
Most people are unaware of their desire to conform, believing they follow their own thoughts and preferences. We see ourselves as individualists who arrive at our beliefs through independent reasoning, yet we live under the illusion that aligning our opinions with the majority is mere coincidence.
This alignment validates our views, but a deeper desire for individuality often manifests in trivial differences. In many schools and workplaces, we wear uniforms and attach flimsy name tags to our chests. These tags swing as we walk, representing us while highlighting our yearning to assert the distinction between "you" and "me."
Our three-character names are as insubstantial as the thin plates that bear them; they carry no weight, meaning, or true identity. This reflects the paradox of seeking individuality while conforming to societal norms.
The Korean word Amugae, meaning "Anyone," emphasizes the universality of this struggle for identity amidst conformity.
Depth of the Potency and Specificity of Spatial Relations ( Mom )
2024
Ink pen and color pencil on paper, 9.5 x 6 cm
The warmth of the womb that once held and protected me has vanished, leaving only a pouch of nutrients for biological survival and the protrusion that delivers it. This image, reduced to pure functionality, serves as a metaphor for mechanical motherhood, stripped of the essence of attachment.
Here lies the boundary between necessity and sufficiency for survival. The silhouette of the functional mother sustains life but lacks the emotional bonds and interactions that define true maternal connection. What remains is a biological machine, a diminished version of motherhood that symbolizes a dehumanized form of attachment—one reduced to mere function.
Ensō
2024
Oil on canvas,145 x 97 cm
In Buddhism, the circle symbolizes the essence of human existence. The Ensō (円相), whether imperfect or perfect, embodies the understanding that humans are not fixed entities but are in a constant state of flux and transformation. In this artwork, clusters of small red circles, interwoven with traces of paint, evoke a crowd of individuals moving together, reflecting the dual nature of individuality and collectivity.
At the center of this assembly, two legs stand firmly, inscribed with the phrase “Follow Me.” The character “立” (meaning “to stand”) symbolizes human autonomy and self-reliance. However, these legs, while supporting weight, also reveal vulnerability, marked by the text “AKOAOYOI.”
The inscriptions on the feet and the multitude of small circles beneath symbolize the footprints we leave behind and follow, illustrating our interconnectedness and the ever-changing nature of our lives.
AKOAOYOI
2024
Mixed media, White Sand
51 x 25 x 17 cm(each leg), 100 x 75 x 75 cm (each sand pile)
In the inevitability of unity, we desperately seek distinction. I allegorize humans as sheep—vulnerable, engaged in passive repetition, emitting sounds (language) while moving in herds (community). The fear of separation from the crowd is profound.
Two legs hang from the ceiling, cloaked in sheep's wool, yet exposing raw human flesh. The feet wear shoes inscribed with the ancient Greek phrase “Follow Me.” Below, footprints mark the sand, inviting others to trace a path already taken.
The legs evoke a single human figure while also suggesting four legs of a sheep. The wool conceals a human vulnerability—a subconscious urge to follow others. As these legs tread the footprints, they also leave behind a trail for others to follow.
I question the nature of free will and unconscious conformity. Are we distinct individuals, part of a flock, or both when it suits us? The footprints may fade, but the desire for connection endures, illustrating a persistent vulnerability that compels us to follow.
Babblings
2020, video clip, 00:12
To spread the Buddha's sound further, a monk runs a stick along the ridges, producing a steady, repetitive tone that resonates and then fades away.
Like the bleating sound of maee... from a sheep, humans also define our repetitive stories in various forms. Birds, stones, soil—these symbols become the origins of new ideas, expanding into larger formations and shapes.