Transparent Tree

The Tree

It is a tenaciously cold morning. Birds sit on a magnolia tree at the edge of my high-rise apartment's small flower patch. One, two, three, four, five . . . so many birds on the skinny tree. How surprising! I look closer at the ends of the branches and notice growing tillers. The tree incubates the birds. It is a tree of life. Its branches reveal the life that it exchanges with the world.

The birds portray the existence of life. They sing about life and have many lovely colors. Birds and trees manifest natural life that is neither heavy nor light.

별 난 이야기[Constellations and Links] 1702

Ancient Korean Paints on Korean Paper

170.2x138cm

2017

I saw the magnolia tree at the front of my apartment cut almost to the stump. When I spoke with the apartment’s maintenance office, they said there had been complaints. They assured me it had been cut down due to the birds making a mess, but the tree would grow back soon, so there was no need to worry. How can I put it . . .? My throat became heavy. Amusingly, a turtledove sat on the raw and bruised tree stump for a long time.

별 난 이야기[Constellations and Links] 1703

Ancient Korean Paints on Korean Paper

170.2x138cm

2017

Trees that live within humanity’s boundaries are transparent. Living forms, including trees, are pressured and tailored by artificial touches that barely keep them alive. They do not have a reason to exist other than for human use. Humanity’s desire for structure ends up absorbing the trees; thus, the person who desires is the first to become transparent.

The trees do their best to keep life going. They are unique living forms linked by constellations. Being amputated here and there makes them seem transparent, but fundamentally they are not.

The bird

Over window 1

Over window 2

Flew away

A painting’s materials, methods, and contents are tightly linked together. From time to time, I hear that Korean paper can hold long celluloid fiber closest to its natural material state. As my body strides, the strokes on top of it hold the intentionality of “moving forward.” The forming and changing is the “body”: a compilation of numerous intentions and constellations. The method is the content.

“The star born story” is “the story of a star being born.”

Each and everyone is a meaningful “special story.”

It is also special, yet not so special. It is an “ordinary story.”

For me, art allows a being to “stroll” amongst confusion. But if stroll leaves out the “meaning,” is it then meaningless? I have blocked the decision-making of meaning and meaningless. It is not excessive “play.” I let the being be as it is.