Walking with Art: Reflections on a 14-Year Journey

Walking with Art: Reflections on a 14-Year Journey

Throughout my life as a painter, I’ve encountered all kinds of people drawn to art—those who wish to learn how to paint, those who simply want to look at paintings and share their impressions, those eager to talk deeply about art, and even those, like me, who dream of turning it into a lifelong profession. To have meaningful conversations with these people, I opened a blog and have been posting consistently ever since.

I officially debuted as an artist in 2011. That means it’s been nearly 14 years now—and next year, I will celebrate my 15-year milestone. It’s honestly hard to believe. Looking back, I’m amazed at how far I’ve come. I know for certain that I could never have made it this far alone. It was only possible because I had the privilege of walking this path with others—people whose eyes lit up with a genuine love for art and beauty.

In many ways, the journey has often felt like walking through a long tunnel without knowing when I would see the light. In a world where no one can promise you success, I had to keep walking forward on faith alone. But it never felt tiresome. Why? Because I wasn’t walking alone. Along the way, I met people who cared, who shared, and who encouraged me to keep going. Their presence made all the difference.

Once you pass the ten-year mark as an artist, something subtle but powerful happens. You begin to realize within yourself—without anyone needing to validate you—that you’ve stepped through a doorway. You've moved into a new chapter where your pace, your voice, and your vision become more grounded. That realization is one of the greatest rewards of all, and it's not something that can be measured with awards or external recognition.

Sometimes, of course, I talk about the prizes I’ve received or the experiences I’ve accumulated—perhaps as a way to "prove" my path. But deep down, I know that art exists in a space far more subjective and complex than any single achievement can define. What we do as artists doesn’t quite fit into the boxes the world tries to impose. That’s why I hope we can move toward a world where such proof is no longer necessary.

And when I meet someone who doesn’t need that proof—who simply understands and accepts the work for what it is—I’m filled with gratitude. I treasure the notes they leave behind, the artwork they share, and the sincerity in their eyes. These moments are more than encouragement; they become markers—bright, reassuring signposts—that will guide me in the days to come.
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Especially in times like these, when so much feels uncertain, I believe our art—and the spirit behind it—can offer both comfort and direction. That’s why I continue to paint. That’s why I write and share. And that’s why I remain open to conversation, to collaboration, and to walking beside others on this beautiful, sometimes lonely, but always meaningful journey.

​This hanging scroll is a precious piece that one of my students gave me as a gift.

“眉目舒展 順問冬安 (Mi Mok Seo Jeon Sun Moon Dong An)” — This phrase, which wishes for gentle eyes and peaceful hearts, seems to be in line with the essence of art that I have pursued for a long time. The emotion of receiving this hanging scroll, filled with winter greetings and warm hearts, will remain in my memory for a long time.
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I deeply appreciate her sincere heart, and I hope that we can continue to share art in such a space of affection.