At the edge of the day,
the sun quietly slips behind the horizon,
leaving a golden trail across the sea.
As I watch the light fade,
it feels as if the world is gently whispering,
"Whatever kind of day you had… it's okay now."
There are days when life feels dry and unkind.
Sometimes it's the world that feels distant,
and sometimes it's your own heart that feels like cracked soil.
But still…
just like this peaceful view,
the world, too, can become breathtakingly beautiful in an unexpected moment.
Like watercolor bleeding gently across paper--
blending, fading, then shining again.
That’s the kind of world I hope for.
Not perfect, not always smooth,
but when you step back and take it all in,
a life that is warm and whole--
like a painting made up of small, imperfect strokes.

Even if the world feels rough sometimes,
may our days still come together
like one quiet, beautiful masterpiece.

The phrase "learning through mistakes and failures" may sound obvious, but anyone who has blogged for years knows how deeply true it is.

When you first start writing a blog, there’s a sense of excitement and vague hope. You imagine your words connecting with people, AdSense earnings rolling in, and your stories reaching a wider world. And sometimes, you even get that little reward—your blog gets approved for AdSense, or your post is featured somewhere. It feels like a door to bigger opportunities has opened.

But as the years go by, you realize—it’s not a game. Writing isn’t just tapping on a keyboard; it’s facing the world and yourself every single day. And at some point, you’ve gone too far from the starting line to turn back. You’ve invested time and effort, and the only option is to keep moving forward.

Then, one day, it hits you: no one told you how many unpredictable variables there would be. Veteran bloggers rarely speak about it. Maybe if we knew everything from the beginning, we wouldn’t even have started. Life’s like that too. There’s no perfect pink-tinted path.

That’s why they say life is about learning to dance in the storm. Blogging is no different. Sometimes, a blog post touches someone, comforts them, or brings a new connection into your life.

I’ve met truly amazing people through blogging—respectful, passionate, and generous. They offered me opportunities, shared my posts, and helped my name reach more readers. As an artist, it was deeply affirming—a moment when I felt I had chosen the right path.

Being an artist means walking a path full of uncertainty. It’s like pushing through waist-high grass with no road ahead, making your own trail. There are no right answers, no shortcuts. But someone has to make the path—so that others can follow. That’s what makes a true artist.

Blogging is similar. You just keep writing. Maybe someone else made it, so you tell yourself you can too. In the beginning, though, you’ll get spam. Scammers will disguise themselves as opportunities and try to take advantage of your writing.
That’s why discernment is a survival skill. As you keep writing and meeting people, you naturally learn who’s genuine and who’s not. That discernment has been one of the greatest rewards of blogging.

You also start to understand the value of others’ rights and privacy. Sincere bloggers make clear, respectful requests when they need something. When I meet people like that, it reminds me that the world is still good.

But recently, I learned that some people are using AI to repost my original writing without permission. That’s discouraging. And yet—I’m still trying to find solutions. Because I want to be the kind of person who shows the way to others walking a similar path.

There are many online resources for dealing with such issues. The key is not to give up. In fact, when people take the risk of copying my name or content, maybe it means I’m reaching more people. Maybe it’s a sign that my work matters.

And for that, I’m grateful. Of course, proper credit is important. I always cite my sources when I refer to someone else’s work. But now, with AI, it’s getting harder to trace where things come from. So I try to research thoroughly before writing.
KDP publishing is the same. Some readers leave kind reviews—and those kind words give creators enough energy to keep going for days. Such acts make the world warmer.

So I try to do the same. When I read another creator’s work, I write a good review to show my respect for their effort. Still, there are those who copy my workbook, then refund it. Maybe some did it by mistake. But over time, you learn that people come in all kinds.

That’s why I hope this world grows more supportive of creators. When we encourage creative work, more people will feel inspired to make something new. And the world will become a more beautiful place.
If you’re a tired blogger, writer, or creator reading this—I hope my words give you strength.
​
Don’t give up.
Stand your tired knees up, and run again.
May every step you take be blessed.

Art blossoms through time, sincerity, and long, quiet hours spent alone. Recognition, if it comes at all, comes slowly—through consistency, honesty, and the courage to keep creating even when no one is watching. Artistic judgment is deeply personal and often unpredictable, and because of that, I’ve learned to be cautious when someone I don’t know reaches out with exaggerated praise and grand promises. “Your work is amazing,” they say. “Let me help you succeed.” But real artists know: nothing meaningful ever comes that easily.

In the past, distinguishing between genuine opportunities and scams depended entirely on intuition. I believe many artists—especially those starting out—fell into traps not because they were careless, but because they were hopeful. They wanted to believe someone had finally discovered them. And who could blame them? But that’s why I’m so grateful for tools like ChatGPT. Now, when I receive an unexpected message or offer, I can take a moment to research it calmly. I can ask questions, verify identities, and get context. What once required guesswork now begins with clarity.

Personally, I’ve never believed in overnight success. I find meaning in slow, deliberate growth—one blog post, one project, one reader at a time. I prefer the quiet reward of knowing that I built something with care over the false thrill of skipping steps. So when someone suddenly praises me and says they can take me to a higher level without effort, I instinctively take a step back. That doesn’t align with how I work. That kind of promise doesn’t belong in the life of an artist who values integrity.

Over time, I’ve turned down many opportunities—some of which, on the surface, looked appealing. But in hindsight, I’m grateful I filtered them out. Those weren’t missed chances. They were moments where I protected my time, my peace, and my creative direction. I chose to remain grounded, and that was the right decision.
To artists who are just beginning their journey: you will likely be approached by people offering shortcuts. Some may be real, some may not. But in all cases, I hope you take time to pause, ask questions, and listen to your intuition. Fast roads aren’t always the best roads. Sometimes, the slowest path is the one that takes you exactly where you need to go.

Blogging has helped me understand this. Through the process of writing, posting, reflecting, and connecting, I’ve learned to value the rhythm of steady work. I’ve become less drawn to sudden change or explosive growth. I’d rather build something true, even if it takes longer. So if you’re ever presented with a lottery-ticket opportunity, take a breath and ask yourself, “Is this really how I want my journey to unfold?”
​
Real art isn’t born out of shortcuts or praise. It’s born from honest work, deep feeling, and the refusal to give up when things feel uncertain. And the path of an artist—though slow and often quiet—is one of the most meaningful journeys you can take. If you’re walking that path now, I want you to know: you’re not alone. And you’re doing just fine.

​How to Use ChatGPT to Identify Art Scams

If you receive an unexpected offer related to your artwork—whether through email or social media—ChatGPT can help you determine whether it’s genuine or a potential scam. Start by pasting the full message into ChatGPT and asking whether it seems suspicious. ChatGPT will analyze the tone, structure, and language to check for common scam indicators like vague praise, unrealistic promises, or urgency.

Next, ask ChatGPT to look up the name or email of the sender. It can help identify whether this person or organization has a credible online presence, or if they’ve been associated with scams. You can also ask whether the offer—such as paying to be included in an art book or exhibition—sounds reasonable based on industry norms.
​
Finally, if you’re unsure how to respond, ask ChatGPT for advice. It can suggest polite rejection messages, steps to report the message, or ways to protect your work and information moving forward.
Using this process allows you to filter questionable offers with more confidence, and focus on the opportunities that truly align with your values as an artist.

As we go through life, we often encounter wonderful people—those who inspire us, support us, and help us grow. But unfortunately, not every encounter is so positive. There are times when we come across individuals whose behavior is so unreasonable, so far outside the boundaries of basic decency, that we are left hurt, confused, and shaken. These people can leave behind emotional or even material damage that takes time to recover from. And in the digital world, the same dynamic exists—only with more anonymity, more scale, and often, more risk.
The internet opens us up to incredible opportunities for connection and creativity, but it also makes us vulnerable to deceit. In this space where appearances can be easily manipulated and identities hidden, we need to become even more vigilant. That means learning how to protect ourselves, strengthening our ability to pause before we trust, and developing the habit of asking deeper questions before accepting an offer at face value.
Scammers are rarely subtle. They often leave behind traces—unusual language, copied formats, recycled email templates, vague project details, or exaggerated praise. While we may not always spot these clues right away, artificial intelligence has the advantage of scanning patterns across massive amounts of data. It can quickly identify inconsistencies, compare language usage, and flag suspicious behavior in a way that humans may not immediately notice.
This is where AI tools like ChatGPT can be incredibly helpful. Instead of trying to rely solely on our gut instinct, we can use technology as a second line of defense—a filter that helps us slow down and assess things more clearly. When used wisely, this can save us from unnecessary stress, lost time, or worse, real harm.
Learning to harness this kind of digital awareness is no longer optional. In a world where information moves faster than ever, and where trust can be so easily exploited, the best thing we can do is combine human sensitivity with technological tools. That balance—of instinct and insight, of heart and clarity—can help us move more safely and confidently through both our creative lives and the broader online world.

​

​Today, I went to the theater for the first time in a while during spring break and watched a movie.

That movie was none other than Minecraft: The Movie, which I had been looking forward to.

Since I usually like Minecraft,
I was curious about how that world would be expressed in the movie.

As soon as I entered the theater,
the block world unfolding on the large and magnificent screen made me feel like I was in a game.

The real-life and animation were exquisitely combined,
and the backgrounds included familiar forests, villages, abandoned mines, the Nether, and the End--

familiar yet new scenes.

The story went beyond simple game play,
and contained a story about sincerity, friendship, courage, and growth.

The children sitting next to me burst into laughter here and there,
and the adult audience members seemed moved and quietly immersed in some scenes.

This movie was not just a game,
but a work that conveyed the charm of "storytelling together" through the world of Minecraft.

​The Minecraft movie adaptation has been one of Mojang Studio's major projects since 2014. However, in August 2018, production was in danger of being halted for a while when Rob Mc Elhenry, the initial screenwriter, left.

After that, Mojang Studio hired a new director and screenwriter and completely revised the script, and the script was written by Allison Schroeder, who wrote the screenplays for the movies 'Hidden Figures' and 'Frozen 2'.

Warner Bros., known for DC movies and the Harry Potter series, will be in charge of production.

Steve, a young man who has always dreamed of becoming a great miner, stumbles upon a mysterious cube that opens a portal to a blocky, pixelated world known as the Overworld. There, he befriends a loyal wolf named Dennis and lives peacefully, mining, crafting, and building.

However, a second portal pulls Steve into the Nether, a dark underground realm ruled by a ruthless sorceress named Malgosa. In the Nether, imagination is outlawed, and the inhabitants, especially the pig-like Piglins, are forced to mine gold under Malgosa’s command. She steals Steve’s cube, intending to use its power to invade the Overworld.
​
Steve entrusts the cube to Dennis before being captured. Dennis escapes into the real world, where the cube is discovered by a group of unlikely heroes: Garrett (Jason Momoa), a former arcade game champion; Henry and Natalie, a pair of curious siblings; and Dawn (Danielle Brooks), a sharp-witted real estate agent.
As Malgosa launches an all-out attack on the Overworld with her Piglin army, Steve, his new friends, and some seasoned "pros" from the Minecraft world must join forces with the "noobs" from reality to protect imagination and restore balance to both realms.

Children are deeply familiar with the world of Minecraft. For them, it's more than just a game—it’s a playground of creativity, imagination, and exploration. In that pixelated universe, they build entire cities, dig into endless caves, and shape landscapes with their own vision. But it's not just children who are enchanted by it. Adults, too, often find themselves drawn into the peaceful and visually soothing scenery that unfolds in Minecraft’s blocky realms. Despite its simple graphics, there is something undeniably calming and inviting about its world—something that allows people of all ages to temporarily escape the complexity of real life.

Minecraft: The Movie brings that magical, dreamlike world vividly to life on the big screen. When the protagonist Steve first steps through a glowing portal into the Overworld, the film invites the audience to come along, as if whispering, "This is the world you imagined—come and live in it." Familiar landscapes from the game—lush forests, open plains, towering mountains, quiet villages, deep mines, and even the fiery Nether—are all brought to life with color, texture, and cinematic grandeur. The film doesn’t just show the world—it makes you feel like you’re truly walking through it.
​
Anyone who has spent time playing Minecraft has probably wondered at least once: “What would it be like to walk through the world I’ve built? To live inside the house I constructed block by block?” This film fulfills that very longing. It transforms Minecraft from something you control with a keyboard into something you feel with your heart. The movie creates an emotional bridge between player and world, inviting viewers to inhabit their imagination not just as gamers, but as participants in a shared adventure. It is more than a movie—it is a realization of countless quiet dreams.

From an artist’s perspective, Minecraft: The Movie delivers more than just a colorful adventure—it carries a clear and resonant message. At its core, this film celebrates a world where imagination, creativity, and free expression shape reality. It’s a world where possibilities are limitless, not because of power or control, but because of the creative minds behind every block, every design, and every vision.
​
This is, in essence, the world that Minecraft has always dreamed of—a place where creativity leads the way, where problem-solving is playful, and where collaboration, curiosity, and design are at the center of growth. The game never promised perfection; instead, it gave players the tools to build, to destroy, to rebuild, and to dream without restriction. The film captures that spirit and magnifies it for a wider audience.

What makes this message even more important is the context of our time. We are living in an era shaped by artificial intelligence, automation, and accelerating technologies—tools that are advancing faster than most of us can comprehend. In such a world, there is a growing fear: Will machines outpace human creativity? Will efficiency replace emotion, and algorithms replace artistry? This movie offers a gentle but powerful answer.

It reminds us that no matter how advanced technology becomes, human imagination remains irreplaceable. It’s not just about how fast we build something, but why we build it. The film gently nudges us to remember what truly matters: the spark that begins with an idea, the collaboration that turns ideas into reality, and the joy of building something that is entirely your own.

In the end, Minecraft: The Movie doesn’t just entertain—it affirms a truth that every artist knows deep inside:
The world we live in is shaped not only by code, but by creativity.
And in times like these, that message feels more vital than ever.

When Minecraft: The Movie was first released, it received lukewarm reviews. Many early viewers and critics dismissed it as underwhelming or even boring. Expectations were modest, and most assumed the film would quietly fade away. But then, something unexpected happened.

The turning point? One chaotic, hilarious scene: the "Chicken Jockey."

In the middle of the film, Jack Black's character Steve yells out "Chicken Jockey!" as Jason Momoa's character, Garrett Garrison, encounters a rare baby zombie riding a chicken. This moment is a direct nod to a quirky and rare in-game occurrence in the original Minecraft—and it sent audiences into a frenzy.

Suddenly, theaters erupted with laughter, applause, and, in some cases, complete chaos. On TikTok and other platforms, videos surfaced of audiences cheering wildly, throwing popcorn, and even bringing real chickens to screenings. It turned into a meme, a shared internet moment, and above all, a symbol of why fans love Minecraft—for its randomness, absurdity, and joy.

Director Jared Hess responded to the viral phenomenon with humor, saying, "You’re not going to hurt anyone with popcorn." Though some theaters began enforcing stricter rules, the energy around the film had already shifted.

Minecraft: The Movie went from quietly dismissed to a pop culture talking point—and much of it was thanks to one baby zombie riding one very confused chicken.
In the end, sometimes all it takes is a well-timed moment of chaos to turn an entire film’s fate around. And in this case, that chaos came with feathers and a groaning mini-zombie on its back.
​
"Chicken Jockey!" may have started as a throwaway gag, but it became the unexpected hero of Minecraft’s cinematic journey.

This kind of unexpected success—rising from a moment that no one could have predicted—is perhaps one of the most powerful forces that keeps creators moving forward.

It's not always the carefully planned scenes, the most polished pages, or the meticulously edited lines that resonate most. Sometimes, it’s the accidental brilliance, the offbeat idea, or the quirky detail that unexpectedly captures the world’s attention. And when that happens, it reminds us—those who write, draw, film, compose, or build—that our efforts don’t disappear into the void.
Even if a hundred projects pass by unnoticed, one surprising moment of connection can shift everything. That hope, that possibility of one spark, is what keeps creators going.
​
Because you never really know which part of your work will move someone, inspire laughter, go viral, or become iconic.
And so we keep creating—despite uncertainty, despite fatigue—driven by the knowledge that magic often lives in the most unexpected corners of what we make.

​As a visual artist who shares my work online, I’ve always believed in the power of open platforms to connect, inspire, and build community. But recently, I encountered something that reminded me of the risks that come with visibility.

jethrojeff.com
The page was titled “Human Rights Myungja Anna Koh,” and at first glance, it looked like a feature or mention. But as I read the content, something felt off.

What Was the Problem?

• The text was clearly AI-generated, filled with vague, exaggerated language that didn’t actually say anything meaningful.
  
• There were no images of my artwork, no references to real exhibitions or articles I’ve written.
  
• The page had misleading SEO-driven phrases like “public health,” “e-commerce,” and “universal appeal,” clearly meant to attract search engines.
  
• It included advertising clickbait elements, such as “Continue Reading” buttons that didn’t lead anywhere relevant.
  

In short, my name had been used without my knowledge or consent, on a website that appeared to be built purely for advertising revenue through misleading content.

Why This Matters

​If you’re an artist, writer, teacher, or anyone who shares their work online under their real name, this could happen to you too.
These types of scam or spam websites:

• Use public names to create fake content
• Exploit visibility to drive traffic and profit
• May confuse potential clients, fans, or employers searching for your real work

What I Did Immediately
​

1. Filed a removal request with Google to delist the page from search results
   → Google Content Removal Tool
2. Explained that my name was being used without permission, and attached a screenshot of the page for evidence.
3. Checked my other public mentions and set a calendar reminder to do routine searches of my name going forward.

​How You Can Protect Yourself

 Final Thoughts

I’m sharing this story not to scare, but to empower fellow creators to take ownership of their online presence.
The internet is an incredible space to showcase our voices and visions—but like any public space, it’s worth guarding.
If you’re an artist, don’t stop creating, don’t stop sharing.
Just be a little smarter about how you protect your name and your narrative.
Have you experienced something like this? I’d love to hear from you.