​The world always presents us with two paths. One is safe and predictable, and the other is uncertain but exciting. Many people, especially successful people, always say, “You should do what you love.” Sometimes, that sounds like a childish dream. Life is more realistic than you think, and we live with fixed expenses, responsibilities, and social standards every month. In such a reality, the words “follow your dreams” can sound endlessly romantic. I, too, am careful whenever I talk to people around me about my life as an artist. I know that drawing, doing art, may seem beautiful and free, but it is also a lonely and endless journey. That is why I dare not strongly tell someone to “do art” when they are looking for a realistic job. Because it is their life, their choice, and their responsibility. However, from my experience, there is only one thing I can say. You should do what you love, that is the right path. And the sooner you make that choice, the better. People who set their own path and walk it from the beginning become stronger. No matter how hard it is, no matter how difficult it is, no matter how financially stressful it is, if you have to go that way, it is right to start before it is too late.

Last year, while doing an outdoor art show, I met a variety of people. From ordinary office workers to former designers and retired teachers, they all said the same thing. “I really liked drawing when I was young.” “I originally wanted to go to art school.” “I still have my heart set on art.” Their eyes were clear, and their speech was full of regret. They were all people who had put off the path of art because they had hit the wall of reality. Listening to their stories, I felt deep empathy. That is because I, too, took a detour and came back. A dream that has been lost once does not come back easily. Starting again requires courage, time, and the patience to push through countless weeds. I am still creating my own path by cutting down those weeds one by one.

If you ask me why I am taking such a difficult and rugged path, I can only give one answer. Because I like it. Even if no one recognizes it, even if it doesn’t sell, the moment I draw it makes me the most myself. People who do what they love don’t get tired easily. The inner fulfillment they get from doing it lasts much longer than the realistic rewards. Of course, what they love may not immediately become their job. However, if they do what they love for a long time, that path will eventually become their path. And there is freedom and deep satisfaction that only those who walk that path can enjoy. That’s why I want to say. Doing what you love is not a waste. Rather, it is the most honest choice for yourself. Even if you sometimes go back, break down, and feel lonely, that path will ultimately make you the deepest and strongest. We all have to ask ourselves at some point. “Have I really done what I wanted to do in my life?” I want to live in this moment so that I can confidently say “yes” at that time.

​We often say, “Don’t worry about what others think, and just go your own way.” Especially, those who have already succeeded consistently advise this. “I got here because I didn’t care about what others thought.” This saying sounds simple and cool, but it’s not easy to actually put it into practice in life. Rather, living without being swayed by the eyes of others, society’s standards, or someone else’s evaluation may be one of the most difficult things to do. So today, I’m going to think about what exactly “not being conscious of others” means.

Not being conscious of others doesn’t simply mean ignoring the existence of others. It means not being swayed by the standards set by others. The world creates countless standards. Faster, bigger, and more expensive. More specs, flashier titles, and higher positions. We evaluate ourselves by following these standards without knowing it. And before we know it, we find ourselves trapped within the standards of others, not the eyes of others.

I often meet people around me who consider only the “top” in a certain field as successful, and say that all other paths are “losers.” Whenever I hear such words, I am outwardly silent, but inwardly I feel sorry. Their words sound like voices boasting about the world's oldest nuclear power plant, the fastest clock, and the most magnificent church. But they do not ask the important questions. Is that power plant still safe? What kind of time does that clock present to people? Does that church really give peace?

What we often miss is not the 'standard' but the 'essence'.
When we follow the standards set by others, we lose the most important questions.
"Why am I going this way?"
"Does this truly make me happy?"

Those who follow their own path cannot help but be different from others. Sometimes they may seem slow and sometimes clumsy. However, that path contains their own reasons and philosophy. And that is the most powerful energy that sustains life. A life that lives faithfully to one's own questions, not according to others' standards. I believe that is the true meaning of not being conscious of others.

But I know this well: people who have never lost something or experienced failure often cannot grasp what truly matters. Without having faced detours or collapse, it’s easy to become fixated on appearances—on surface-level achievements, flashy titles, or socially defined success. It’s not entirely their fault; if you’ve never had something taken from you or never had to question everything you believed in, it’s only natural to rely on what seems tangible. But in time, all the surface fades, and what remains—what truly endures—is essence. And when we begin to pursue that essence with honesty and intention, we discover a kind of joy that is both quiet and deeply meaningful.
In times like these, where uncertainty defines our world, that pursuit becomes even more vital. The economy is unstable, technology is transforming our lives faster than we can comprehend, and the idea of “security” or “normal” has become increasingly fragile. In this kind of world, it’s easy to panic, to chase what others seem to have, or to fall into the trap of comparison. But I believe this is exactly when we must pause and begin asking ourselves the hard questions:
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“Why am I doing what I’m doing?”
“Does this choice bring meaning to my life?”
“Am I truly living my own life—or just copying someone else’s version of success?”
These questions are not easy. Often, they are uncomfortable. They may not bring answers right away. But by asking them—genuinely and repeatedly—we begin to uncover something precious: our own values, our own direction, our own truth. And when that inner compass begins to form, life becomes steadier. We may still tremble at times, but we no longer collapse at every shake. There’s a root growing, quietly but surely, beneath us.
That’s why I believe pursuing what is essential—not just what is visible—is what leads to lasting fulfillment. Compliments fade, numbers lose meaning, applause stops. But knowing why we created something, what we loved, and how we chose to live—those stay. And from them comes a small, steady, and powerful joy, the kind that doesn’t rely on the outside world to feel real.

Whenever a new revolution emerges, old systems tend to collapse.
But in the midst of such technological shifts and societal pressures, I hope that art remains like a star that shines in the dark sky—quiet, distant, but always there, reminding us of our humanity.

I once lived in Germany for an extended period of time. After years of living abroad, I began to notice something wrong with my body.
It turned out to be my thyroid. One day, my heart was racing at nearly 200 beats per minute. I was sweating just sitting still, breathless as if I had just run a marathon.

Barely able to stand, I made my way to the hospital.
While I sat in the waiting room, tears started falling without warning.
Looking back now, I realize I would have handled it differently. I’ve been trained by life abroad, shaped by experience, and tempered by a kind of calm acceptance. But at the time, I was young.

I missed home. I began to wonder why I was living in a foreign country at all.
Lost in melancholy, I sat there silently, overwhelmed by illness and loneliness. All I wanted was to go home as soon as possible.
But that hospital was different.

Unlike other medical settings filled with posters, charts, and warning signs, this one was decorated like a small gallery. Beautiful abstract paintings hung on the walls, softening the sterile atmosphere.
I remember thinking, “Maybe the doctor is Italian—he must have a sense for aesthetics.”
As I looked at the artwork, something unexpected happened. The paintings comforted me.
On the coffee table was a catalog, filled with information about the artwork displayed in the hospital.

Its title caught my eye. In German, it read: Niemand ist perfekt — “Nobody is perfect.”
Curious, I began to flip through the pages, and before I knew it, I was fully immersed.
The book was a collection of paintings and stories, each one exploring the idea that understanding and accepting our imperfections is deeply important.
I found it surprising that such a book would be placed in a hospital, and yet, it felt like it belonged there.
I read the entire book while waiting, absorbed in the message that true peace and freedom come from recognizing that we are fragile, unstable, and imperfect beings.

When it was finally my turn, the doctor asked where I was from. “Korea,” I answered.
He then gently asked if I had eaten a lot of seaweed or seafood in Korea. I realized I had eaten it almost daily—but rarely since moving to Germany.
He explained that a sudden change in diet and environment could cause temporary thyroid symptoms like the ones I was experiencing.
Unlike many doctors who rely strictly on lab numbers and tend to frighten patients, this doctor reassured me with kindness and clarity, calming my anxious mind.
Surprisingly, after that visit, I noticed something shift. I stopped worrying. And soon, my condition began to improve.

Through that experience, I came to a realization:
The pressure to be perfect--to always perform, to never fail, to meet unrealistic expectations—can make us sick.
It’s only when we recognize our own limitations and release that constant pressure that we begin to truly relax, enjoy life, and heal.
And in this realization, I also discovered something profound about art.
In a world obsessed with perfection, art reminds us that it is precisely our imperfections that make us human, free, and capable of joy.
Art does not demand perfection. It welcomes mistakes, vulnerability, and experimentation—and in doing so, it offers us comfort.

We live under tremendous pressure. I meet people all the time who are struggling under stress—myself included.

Constant competition, unpredictable changes, and societal expectations can feel suffocating.
In such a world, it’s not easy to laugh freely and live slowly.
Society pushes people to be perfect. It roars that if you are not perfect, you will be left behind.
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But we must remember: Humans were never meant to be perfect.
The sooner we accept this truth, the freer and more compassionate our lives—and our world—will become.

​Every time I draw, I suddenly think about it.

Can art be a true comfort in this suffocating world that demands perfection?
In an atmosphere where everything is lacking, where you always have to improve, and where even mistakes are not tolerated,
Can art make all that stop for a moment?

Can a single painting, with its light and color, lines and margins, really comfort a person’s heart?

And I always come to the same answer.

“That’s why art is all the more comforting.”

Art doesn’t have to be perfect.

Even the more imperfect it is, the more human, truthful, and warm it is.

The blurred lines, the blurred colors, the rough proportions, and even the silent margins in a painting
are, in and of themselves, a space for the viewer to breathe, empathize, and rest.

No matter how much the world rushes toward perfection,
Art whispers to people,
“It’s okay, you are enough as you are.”

So today, I want to draw a picture that is not a perfect picture, but a picture with real heart. I hope that through the picture, someone will stop for a moment, catch their breath, and be comforted.
​

I'm going to write about the changes in blogging while using ChatGPT. One of my earliest childhood memories is that I was studying for the entrance exam for middle school at the end of the 6th grade in elementary school.

​I think I studied all the books for the subjects, which were about 6 at the time. I had to see all the information in a short period of time, so I think I did it because I was young. I made the books into a circle and went inside it and read them all while going around clockwise.

I thought it would be more effective if the contents of the books were connected to each other. And looking back, I think we've come to that era now. All information is connected through the Internet, so it's a really efficient world.

Efficiency makes life easier. Of course, if you think from an analog perspective, you might not like the development of information or technology. The old days were better. Technological development will destroy humanity, and so on. There are many pessimistic and doomsday-like opinions.

​ However, if you think about efficiency, there are other opinions. If I could have gone out and played instead of studying while enduring the dizziness in that circle when I was a child, it would have saved me time and allowed me to do other things.

I think technology shines more beautifully when it plays this kind of supporting role. In fact, as an artist, I didn't have a positive view of the development of information or technology in the beginning. That's why I wrote a book containing my views.

​However, for me, who is absolutely short on time due to drawing, education, exhibitions, publishing, blogging, etc., the auxiliary capabilities of technology are very helpful. For example, in the past, it took a lot of time to write a blog post. I had to wake up early in the morning, sit at my desk with coffee, write for two hours, and post it. I had to go to Google often to find the image, find information, read the information, and check if it was correct, which took a lot of time. Some information required membership registration, so I often signed up. However, ChatGPT is now helping me with this. AI provides me with the quotes, evidence, statistics, images, etc. I need when I write. That’s why I am receiving more active help by becoming a paid user. However, I don’t leave all my writing to AI. Because AI doesn’t write the direction, emotions, or philosophy of my writing in a way that suits my style. If I overuse the power of AI, my site or blog will become very ordinary. From the perspective of an artist who rejects the ordinary, I think it’s right to use it as an auxiliary.

​In some reels, you can often see AI-written articles that analyze the patterns of the text and explain whether the author wrote it himself or with the help of ChatGPT. But I think that eventually everyone will receive help from AI at least once. Of course, publications such as books are an exception. In fact, Amazon has an option box that allows you to specify if you have received help from AI. I would strongly recommend it if you are using it to deliver useful and effective information articles that can be helpful to others, such as blog posts.

​There is one change that I feel whenever I write these days.
That is, the speed of writing is getting faster and the efficiency of the work is also noticeably increasing.
In the past, once I decided on a topic, it took quite a while to find materials, organize them, and draw out my thoughts.
However, now I can organize the flow and structure of information much faster in my head,
and thanks to that, I can write without hesitation from the moment I grasp the context of the writing.

In particular, the development of artificial intelligence tools and search technology
has dramatically reduced the time and energy required to select and collate information.
In other words, while it is important to write well,
the power to clearly organize what I want to write before writing has greatly increased.
I feel that the attitude of actively utilizing technology in structuring and connecting information
is becoming an increasingly important ability for writers.

As a blogger, being sensitive to this trend, making technology my ally, and actively utilizing tools has a meaning beyond mere ‘convenience.’ That is because it is the power to control the speed and direction of creation.
I think that being able to convey what I want to say and the message I want to convey faster, more accurately, and more richly--
is the attitude and opportunity that creators should have in the midst of technological change.

So I ask myself today as well.

“How sensitively am I responding and expanding my creations in this technological change?”

And that question always gives me one answer.
‘Don’t be afraid, try and adapt. My own writing is in it.’
​

​As the saying goes, "If you hang it on your ear, it's an earring, if you hang it on your nose, it's a nose piercing,"
I've been actively using AI tools in my writing lately.

In particular, I feel that ChatGPT is a really useful and powerful tool for organizing the structure of my writing, organizing my ideas, and refining my sentences.

However, there's one thing you should never forget.
That is, you have to judge for yourself whether the information is reliable and true.

​AI such as ChatGPT

composes answers to users' questions with very consistent sentence structure and logical flow.

In addition, it presents content in a very 'plausible' way that matches the way we speak or think,
so that the information easily seems to be factual.

Here, a Korean proverb comes to mind.

It is "If you hang it on your ear, it's an earring, if you hang it on your nose, it's a nose ring".

In other words, the same content can have different meanings depending on where and how it is attached.
Since AI explains various perspectives equally 'naturally',
it is essential to be able to discern for yourself which direction is right and which part is open to misunderstanding.

​Rather than simply believing the information presented by AI, I tend to do more traditional research to confirm the accuracy of the information.

For example:

Search for relevant books

Search for official documents or research materials from trustworthy organizations

Refer to papers, articles, and columns written by experts

This analog research method takes more time, but

guarantees depth and accuracy of the content.

And the habit of using these two methods in parallel
gives me more confidence and responsibility as a writer.

​And finally, if your blog is connected to AdSense and generates revenue, you may be worried about the impact of using ChatGPT. However, it is okay to just end this as a worry. In my case, when I am busy or have a hard day and cannot finish writing, I feel grateful when I see that I can easily complete my writing every day with ChatzyPT's help. After all, the subject who uses the help of information technology as a supplement is a human, and the blog is also the crystallization of human interaction, so this is only a secondary means. Instead, I think it is a good world because I can share my experiences, thoughts, and useful information more effectively.

​The most rewarding moment of blogging is probably when visitors from all over the world tell me that they have been helped by my writing. Some even call me a 'life changer'.

I know that feeling well, so I am always grateful for these comments. I have also felt like my life changed after reading a blogger's writing, solved a problem that I couldn't solve for months at once, and cried, laughed, and sympathized with the writing of someone who had the same experience as me.

Thanks to these precious experiences, I was able to decide that 'I will write helpful writing like this someday', and now I have achieved that goal.

My writing is starting to receive a lot of sympathy, and it is starting to be tagged and known. Along with this, my sense of reward is also growing. I think all of this is because of my desire to share good things with others.

​In order for a blogger to succeed, he or she must know how to make a big pie and share it together. You must open up life-helping tips as much as possible and write for the public benefits. If you do this, you will almost always succeed.

​And such writing is beneficial. So, I really like to blog and record the process of solving or solving a difficult problem. In this day and age where ChatPitty can easily solve problems, I think this kind of mindset is important.

One of my blog posts that unexpectedly gained a lot of attention was a short piece I wrote about facing and solving a problem with Weebly.

It was a very small and seemingly insignificant issue, and the blog post itself was short and casual.
I didn’t write it to gain traffic or make money--
I simply didn’t want others to go through the same frustration and confusion I had experienced.

To my surprise, that little post received many comments and personal emails from readers who appreciated the information, shared similar stories, or asked for help.
If I had tried to write something more “professional,” it would have probably been longer and more structured.
But ironically, I think it was the simplicity and honesty of the post that made it resonate with others.
​
This experience taught me something important:
Even the smallest technical issues can become essential information for someone else.
Because of this, I’ve decided to continue sharing my experiences with Weebly--
not just the problems I encounter, but also the solutions I discover and the suggestions I hope Weebly will consider.
Knowing that my writing helps real people in meaningful ways gives me the motivation to keep going.