I began drawing with a brush pen at the age of 15. It was prompted by a sudden, life-changing event—an injury to my neck caused me to lose consciousness during a routine exam and fall into a brief coma. Even after regaining consciousness, I could breathe but found myself unable to feel my limbs, as if my body had been severed from me. The sensation of death brushing close that day, combined with the vivid, pulsating vision that greeted me when I opened my eyes again, left an indelible mark. I was compelled to pick up paper and a brush pen, driven by an overwhelming urge to capture that experience.

In those moments, I began to pour onto the paper the sounds of music that enveloped my body, conversations with people I encountered, and the poignant nostalgia brought by shifting seasons. Each stroke of the brush pen became an embodiment of the countless memories and emotions that “I” encountered, flowing through my fingertips onto the page.

The various shapes and forms that emerge on the paper carry an ever-present longing: a yearning for the profound richness found in the act of witnessing a cross-section of existence, and a hope directed toward the boundless vitality that extends beyond the edges of the paper. These elements converge to evoke in the viewer a resonance with the continuity of life itself, endlessly stretching outward.