These images were taken over the past several years. If traced further back, they would no longer look the way they do now.
The formation of a form takes time; its disappearance also requires another span of time.
The formation of a form takes time; its disappearance also requires another span of time.
In searching for self-expression, what is it that I truly want to express?
It is a complex question—yet it can also be a simple one.
When we step outside the constraints of time, form begins to clarify itself.
It feels complex because we always wish to complete it within a very short moment.
Just like this photobook—I selected all the photographs within two or three hours.
But before that selection, I had sifted, abandoned, and started over countless times.
My digital albums contain folders with various names—
folders that appear, disappear, and are soon replaced by new ones.
It is a complex question—yet it can also be a simple one.
When we step outside the constraints of time, form begins to clarify itself.
It feels complex because we always wish to complete it within a very short moment.
Just like this photobook—I selected all the photographs within two or three hours.
But before that selection, I had sifted, abandoned, and started over countless times.
My digital albums contain folders with various names—
folders that appear, disappear, and are soon replaced by new ones.
I tried to make a work that could genuinely express “what I want to express,”
yet I failed again and again.
So yes, I did spend only a short amount of time,
but what if all those attempts were counted?
Perhaps this is a continuous photographic project—
one that is still ongoing.
yet I failed again and again.
So yes, I did spend only a short amount of time,
but what if all those attempts were counted?
Perhaps this is a continuous photographic project—
one that is still ongoing.
Without leaning on the support of art history, can we still create something new?
A sense of “insufficiency” and “lack of qualification” often surfaces in my mind.
Must we understand a certain school, inherit its forms,
before we can step into the next stage?
This is a question—but it is not addressed to others;
it is a question I pose to myself.
A sense of “insufficiency” and “lack of qualification” often surfaces in my mind.
Must we understand a certain school, inherit its forms,
before we can step into the next stage?
This is a question—but it is not addressed to others;
it is a question I pose to myself.
As I repeatedly label my images with terms of “style” and “form,”
I realize I am no different—
I am also struggling with definitions.
Why not allow creation to appear naturally?
Perhaps that is exactly the process of sensing artistic limits and breaking through them.
I realize I am no different—
I am also struggling with definitions.
Why not allow creation to appear naturally?
Perhaps that is exactly the process of sensing artistic limits and breaking through them.
I want to write about the layered pressures I feel while creating—
from society, from mainstream aesthetics, from the professional world.
Starting from “zero,” with no background at all, how am I supposed to stand?
Yet whenever I attempt to lay all this out, it becomes another form of constraint.
By the time I wrote this, the page was full. I turned to a new sheet and continued.
An empty sheet offers freedom, as long as I stop caring about the horizontal lines beneath it.
from society, from mainstream aesthetics, from the professional world.
Starting from “zero,” with no background at all, how am I supposed to stand?
Yet whenever I attempt to lay all this out, it becomes another form of constraint.
By the time I wrote this, the page was full. I turned to a new sheet and continued.
An empty sheet offers freedom, as long as I stop caring about the horizontal lines beneath it.
Aggregation and Distribution
This is what I can see—and what I hope to express—at this stage.
It is a collection of “unimportant things,”
an album that “exists without needing meaning.”
Everyone sees the world differently;
even when looking at the same image, our perspectives diverge immensely.
Therefore, for me, the content is simply presentation—
a presentation of how the world is currently existing.
It may be real, or it may be virtual.“Aggregation” is the core concept I discovered during this process.
I see images describing a phenomenon:
the tension between subject and setting,
the alternation between dispersion and cohesion.
Even these “aggregations” themselves can become subjects.
They reveal the essence of materiality:
existence and transformation.
It is a collection of “unimportant things,”
an album that “exists without needing meaning.”
Everyone sees the world differently;
even when looking at the same image, our perspectives diverge immensely.
Therefore, for me, the content is simply presentation—
a presentation of how the world is currently existing.
It may be real, or it may be virtual.“Aggregation” is the core concept I discovered during this process.
I see images describing a phenomenon:
the tension between subject and setting,
the alternation between dispersion and cohesion.
Even these “aggregations” themselves can become subjects.
They reveal the essence of materiality:
existence and transformation.
Aggregation resists humanity’s desire to impose expectations on creation.
It allows form to densify and integrate on its own,
no longer serving a particular center or purpose.
Art, however, often tries to use form to uncover “essence,”
to chase a defined object of “purity” or “oneness.”
That is the human instinct to find certainty within chaos.
It allows form to densify and integrate on its own,
no longer serving a particular center or purpose.
Art, however, often tries to use form to uncover “essence,”
to chase a defined object of “purity” or “oneness.”
That is the human instinct to find certainty within chaos.
Yet the essence of life as I observe it is the opposite—
it embraces everything: chaos and order, reality and virtuality, intent and accident.
It does not seek to return to a single core;
instead, it flows continuously between becoming and dissolving.
The more we attempt to construct a “pure” concept,
the farther we stray from its actual existence.
For the world is exactly like this:
real, chaotic, and yet perfectly complete.
it embraces everything: chaos and order, reality and virtuality, intent and accident.
It does not seek to return to a single core;
instead, it flows continuously between becoming and dissolving.
The more we attempt to construct a “pure” concept,
the farther we stray from its actual existence.
For the world is exactly like this:
real, chaotic, and yet perfectly complete.
We have only one world, only one life.
And what you see here—this “aggregation and distribution”—
is simply the way the world is perceived, observed, and experienced.
Aggregation reveals the density and morphology of existence;
distribution is the externalization of the photographic process—
not a mere visual arrangement
but a scattering of energy, the trace of an individual moving within the world.
And what you see here—this “aggregation and distribution”—
is simply the way the world is perceived, observed, and experienced.
Aggregation reveals the density and morphology of existence;
distribution is the externalization of the photographic process—
not a mere visual arrangement
but a scattering of energy, the trace of an individual moving within the world.
When a photographer handles the distribution of all elements in a frame,
they are also confronting the world’s field of integrated information.
Every act of framing and composition
responds to a larger logic of distribution—
a rule guided not by human will,
but by the world’s own order.
they are also confronting the world’s field of integrated information.
Every act of framing and composition
responds to a larger logic of distribution—
a rule guided not by human will,
but by the world’s own order.
In this sense,
distribution is not only the observation of the external world,
but also an extension of internal consciousness.
Within each image, I co-exist with nature, people, and objects—
together forming this ongoing movement of integration and separation.
distribution is not only the observation of the external world,
but also an extension of internal consciousness.
Within each image, I co-exist with nature, people, and objects—
together forming this ongoing movement of integration and separation.
When I walk into the forest,
trees, wind, light, dust, sound, and humidity gather as one—
we call it a forest.
And I, too, am within it.
I sense the essence of that encounter—
a sound resonating inside me,
as if the world itself were speaking through distribution.
This sound does not arise from any singular subject;
it is the echo of all things freely expressing themselves through their own laws.
It belongs neither to me nor to any “center.”
It simply exists—
within distribution, within aggregation,
manifesting creation in its truest form.
trees, wind, light, dust, sound, and humidity gather as one—
we call it a forest.
And I, too, am within it.
I sense the essence of that encounter—
a sound resonating inside me,
as if the world itself were speaking through distribution.
This sound does not arise from any singular subject;
it is the echo of all things freely expressing themselves through their own laws.
It belongs neither to me nor to any “center.”
It simply exists—
within distribution, within aggregation,
manifesting creation in its truest form.
Thus, as you flip through this book,
the “distributions” you see
are both my response to the world
and the world’s reverberation within me.
They are both objective and subjective;
both natural and man-made.
Ultimately, within this visual space,
they gather once again into a single whole.
the “distributions” you see
are both my response to the world
and the world’s reverberation within me.
They are both objective and subjective;
both natural and man-made.
Ultimately, within this visual space,
they gather once again into a single whole.
As you turn each page,
you will encounter these sets of opposites—
true and false, looking down and looking straight ahead, yin and yang, center and edge,
sensation and imagination, infrastructure and interior decoration, planning and looseness,
intentional and unintentional, road and sidewalk, subject and non-subject,
sparse and dense, light and dark, vertical and horizontal,
excessive and just right, twisted and straight,
flat and steep, rhythmic and abrupt,
left and right, emergence and decay,
large and small, symbiosis and possession, part and whole,
harmonious and discordant, smooth tiles and a ground of mud,
real and rendered, actual and virtual,
aligned and misaligned, near and far…
you will encounter these sets of opposites—
true and false, looking down and looking straight ahead, yin and yang, center and edge,
sensation and imagination, infrastructure and interior decoration, planning and looseness,
intentional and unintentional, road and sidewalk, subject and non-subject,
sparse and dense, light and dark, vertical and horizontal,
excessive and just right, twisted and straight,
flat and steep, rhythmic and abrupt,
left and right, emergence and decay,
large and small, symbiosis and possession, part and whole,
harmonious and discordant, smooth tiles and a ground of mud,
real and rendered, actual and virtual,
aligned and misaligned, near and far…
The entire photobook unfolds—and dissolves—
between these cycles of aggregation and distribution.
between these cycles of aggregation and distribution.
