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​I really loved my grandmother.  She was a Jeju Haenyeo, a female sea diver, born and raised in a seaside village of my beautiful hometown, Jeju. My grandmother had to live through some very tough times of Korean history, such as the Japanese colonial era, Korean War, and Jeju April 3rd Massacre to name a few, but she always kept her love for the sea. After she passed away, I visited the seaside, her workplace, in remembrance of her. And I admired her all the more for her keeping her ground at the sea despite the difficult times she had to confront. 

 

I first studied photography during my study in Canada. I remember my teacher always gave us rolls of film. When I returned to Korea, I brought back a few rolls. It was these rolls that reignited my passion for photography 18 years after. 18 years. That is how long these rolls have been kept in my desk drawers. 

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These photos may be rough and dense, but these are what stabilizes me the most. Unstable and shaky moments were reliably captured on weak, old film by the power of the camera. Although I am now able to do what I have always wanted to, there are still difficult times and fearful moments as I press the shutter button. So, in a sense, I am still not stable. Nonetheless, I do this every day. I am firmly committed and I convey my commitment through my photos. 

 

My commitment to film and photography that had survived 18 years of silence. That is my stabilizer and what fuels me through the instability I face.