A Life as a Painter

January 25, 2026, Sunday, 4:10 PM, at the Sancheon-ri Ecological Wetland, Osu Village, Geoje-si, Gyeongsangnam-do

#. Life as a Painter

To be completely honest, it might be a life lived with economic poverty and social disdain.

They say things have gotten a bit better now, but from my perspective, it doesn't feel all that different from before.

The greatest difficulty, first of all, is economic hardship.

In a world driven entirely by capitalist logic, living without money is essentially throwing your life away without any safety net. Furthermore, the weight of the debts that pile up the more I paint is a reality so immediate and severe that it makes me want to give up on life at every single moment.

#. How I Got Into Painting

-- No matter how I think about it, I seem to have inherited a sharp mind from my father's side and artistic talent from my mother's side. -- Especially through painting, I realized that my mother's family's artistic talent wasn't unique to me alone. Looking closely at the lives of my maternal grandmother, my mother, my maternal uncle, and my aunt, I could feel it quite vividly.

In particular, my youngest aunt possessed such an extraordinary artistic flair that she learned to play the guitar and saxophone after the age of 50 and even went around performing. Seeing that, I can't say that the artistic DNA of my mother's side isn't real.

-- It happened when I was in the fifth grade of elementary school. -- It was shortly after moving up from the fourth to the fifth grade, during our very first art class. I don't know if most rural, remote fishing village elementary schools were like that, but at least the rural fishing village elementary school I attended had art classes that were modest to a fault. Life in the countryside was so impoverished that we couldn't even properly bring our own art supplies, but anyway, the teacher hung a piece of paper with a drawing on the blackboard vertically. -- On it were painted boats, a common sight in a fishing village, and even to my elementary school eyes, it was a well-drawn picture.

The teacher said, -- "Now, look at this picture and copy it just like this." -- It was an absurd thing to say. I wanted to draw what I wanted to draw. But what could I do? It was a strict art class, and in the reality where I had to draw according to the teacher's words, I couldn't throw a tantrum as a young child and talk back with, "Teacher, I want to draw what I want to draw."

Still, drawing itself was fun. As a child, the only things I found a true hobby in were drawing and the library behind the school. Drawing was a catalyst of life that stirred endless desire and a sense of challenge within me. Of course, I loved the countless books on the library shelves even more, but looking back now, it feels fascinating that drawing held an entirely separate, even more irresistible charm.

Nearly 40 classmates began drawing diligently. As everyone knows, the paper we had back then was unimaginably poor compared to today... if you were even slightly careless, used too much water, or handled the brush improperly, a hole would tear right through the paper—something today's students could never imagine. Anyway, sighs of frustration echoed here and there. -- Complaints that things weren't turning out the way they wanted.. And understandably so, because without ever having learned the proper methods of drawing, perspective, or composition, faithfully depicting multiple boats arranged with depth, volume, and perspective was an unimaginably difficult task.

Even looking back now, the drawing the teacher hung on the blackboard surpassed the skill level of someone who had studied art professionally.

An hour passed. -- Back then, an hour was probably 45 minutes. -- The teacher hung several drawings on the blackboard, including mine. Looking at my drawing, the teacher said, -- "This is the most accurately drawn picture. Because this and that, this way and that way..." explaining how the boat's structure and 3D volume were rendered correctly. Well, did we even really understand what "3D volume" meant back then? Regardless, beating out all my classmates, my drawing was chosen as the best one.

Then the teacher said, "From today on, stay after class every day and take private art lessons from me." "Can you do it?" Without a moment's hesitation, I answered, "Yes." "Don't worry about materials, I'll provide everything, you just focus hard on drawing." -- To think such a thing would happen in my life.. While it was great that all the classmates went home after class while I got to stay late for private lessons, the thought of walking home alone through a slightly spooky mountain path meant it wasn't pure unadulterated joy. (It was such a rough place that there were even rumors of tigers appearing in the mountains back then, and stories of a local creature called 'Jangsangbeom'—looking like a North American catamount and standing as tall as a person—were frequently whispered about.) But I felt as light as if I were flying through the sky.

Thus, my very first art lessons began in the spring of my fifth year of elementary school. The first lesson was drawing the trees in the lush, 400-year-old zelkova tree forest right next to the school. ..I started by learning the basics: how to mount paper onto a drawing board, how to use a brush, and how to mix paints. Making daily lessons a part of my routine for an entire year became normal.

#. Starting to Paint in Earnest

Even in middle school, painting remained my greatest interest. Of course, newly learned English and Hanja classes, along with science experiments, were enough to spark my curiosity, and until my family's financial situation worsened to the point where I could no longer afford to replace my broken glasses, I cared deeply about my studies, consistently ranking at the very top of the entire school. Yet, I once entered an art competition with no proper equipment and swallowed the bitter pill of defeat.

By high school, my passion for drawing on my own remained strong enough that I even won a national competition gold medal. There was a time when I fell head over heels in love with meticulously rendering the face of a beautiful woman on a size 30 canvas using a mix of acrylics, watercolors, and mediums. Painting was a whole new world to me.

Teachers repeatedly recommended that I go to art college, but our worsening financial situation ruthlessly crushed my dreams.

Sustaining my daily life through brutal physical labor that kids my age had never experienced, I still managed to squeeze in drawings here and there, unable to let go of my passion for art. I applied to art school three times, and was accepted all three times, but each time I had to give it up due to unaffordable tuition fees.

#. The Act of Painting! -- It Stirred Another Inevitable Urge for Survival Within Me.

"Not using the talent given to you by the heavens is also going against the will of heaven." Those were the words someone said after looking at my landscape painting of Tongyeong.

Ah.. Right, let's paint again. It might be a bit late, but if I work hard, can't I reach the level I truly desire?! Yes, I'm going to paint. It will take me further away from financial freedom, but it's a challenge well worth taking!

#. When You Have a Single Mind, Does That Energy Echo Throughout the Universe?!

Tongyeong! -- A city that has produced countless artists. The city that has produced the highest number of artists per capita in the entire world!

It wasn't until I reached the age of 40 that I returned to my hometown of Tongyeong. Solely to paint... Perhaps because of that! -- When I went to get a framed painting of Tongyeong city framed, I became friends with the framing artisan, and through him, I met a skilled figure painter with a solid foundation. That is how my life as a painter began deeply anew, woven with wonderful new connections.

#. Falling in Love with Plein Air Painting

Perhaps it is an instinct and talent I was born with. The intensive art education I received starting in elementary school was all plein air painting. Though there were times in between when I became obsessed with the beautiful faces of women and painted nothing but women's faces covering entire canvases, field plein air work—capturing urban and natural landscapes on location—ultimately suited me best.

#. An Unflagging Passion for Plein Air Painting Amidst the Scorching Heat

Last year alone, I held two solo exhibitions. Perhaps it was a forced endeavor. But my passion for painting drove me to spend over five days a week doing outdoor plein air painting even in the blistering heatwaves, and even after the exhibitions ended, my passion didn't cool down—I kept painting outdoors even when the cold sea breeze made my fingertips numb and stiff, making it hard to hold a brush.

#. What Remains

Honestly, nothing remains. Just the credit card bills that arrive every month, a multitude of unsold and remaining paintings, and canvases and stretcher frames piled high across the house... Yet, paired with a passion for life that cannot be exchanged for anything else, the sincerity and effort I poured into it have transformed into another depth of perspective through which I view the world.

#. Reflection

Is life a predetermined destiny laid out on a straight line? Or is it an unknown journey that no one can foresee?

Some say it is a set destiny, while others say it is not. So what if it is, and so what if it isn't!

Life is simply written out the way one desires, and I don't want to call it some predetermined fate.

I just live the way I want to live.

Perhaps life is a process of spiritual cultivation?

If we think of it as creating a masterpiece called the history of life upon the canvas of existence—much like painting a single artwork on a pure white canvas—doesn't that make it all the more interesting?

At every moment, I am crafting a piece of art that is thrilling and full of anticipation. That is why we must endlessly care for, understand, and strive to coexist with one another, just as I cherish others.

I earnestly beg of you: please, never engage in wars that slaughter one another. Life is far too short to waste time on wars of mutual destruction and bloodshed.

With my 60th birthday just around the corner, the years I've lived through have passed by in an instant, like watching a landscape flash by from a galloping horse.

As close people leave this world behind one by one, life feels all the more fleeting.

I hope you create the happiest moments possible today, as well.

Living a life without regrets is truly precious.

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Life on the canvas is grueling and hungry, but I have no regrets.

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To live even a single day in a way that satisfies yourself! That is truly enough.

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