Choosing Truth Over Speed in Art and Life

Choosing Truth Over Speed in Art and Life

The world constantly demands perfection. We’re taught to believe that happiness and success come only if we move faster, stay ahead of others, and never fall behind.

I used to believe that too. But looking back, I’ve seen that many who rushed ahead, stepping over others in the name of ambition, often became trapped by their own cleverness. They ended up stuck, caught in the illusion of their shortcuts. On the other hand, those who lived quietly and simply—those who just showed up each day and carried out their lives with sincerity—seemed to find a deeper kind of happiness. I’ve seen this again and again. It was the same in the world of art. When I debuted, I had already been creating for over ten years.

I received a flood of comments and advice. Over time, I realized those words weren’t all wrong, but they also weren’t entirely right. When I compared their advice to their lives, the disconnect became clear. And I began to understand that art is far too deep, far too profound, to be defined in words alone. The more I immersed myself in this world, the more I learned how not to be swayed by external standards or values.

I now see myself as someone in the process of becoming. I still make mistakes. I still have foolish thoughts. I’ve gone through many trials and errors. But one thing remains certain: I’m always seeking what’s essential. That pursuit of the essence—of art, of life—has led me to put care into the smallest things. I think it’s that very mindset that has shaped me slowly, day by day. People don’t ask me the same questions they used to. They no longer ask, “How did you debut?” Instead, I know they’ll begin to ask, “How did you stay on the path for so long?” I see people around me who are brilliant at calculating every step.

They avoid loss at any cost. They protect their interests with relentless precision. Some don’t hesitate to use others and discard them when no longer useful. I’ve even met people who proudly say they don’t have emotions. And yet, I’ve watched many of them fall into the traps they set for others. It’s the same in art. There are people who believe in shortcuts. Instead of painting every day and developing their voice, they seek out powerful networks or try to align themselves with famous names in the hope of rapid success. But in doing so, they grow impatient and restless. They forget to be still. I used to envy them. They looked confident. They seemed smart. But I see now—they too were lost. They too hadn’t found their way. In the end, it’s a personal struggle.

And one day, we’ll all stand before a great wall—I call it the wall of the divine. When we knock on that door, what will open it? I believe I’ve already found the answer. The key is not in speed, or recognition, or victory. The key is in truth, in essence, in the quiet path you’ve walked with integrity. That’s the path I’m still walking now.