People do tend to fear and despise shamans but turn to them in times of desperation. Such a contradiction is a human characteristic, no? I'm more pulled to the human drama of shamans - their experience in society and identity struggles - than their transcendental power. Their drastic lives enable them to empathize with others and provide solace.

The subjects in my work appear as unidentified ghosts that can't be said to be of this world. I've decided to call them incarnations. In various religions, myths, and legends, the word "incarnation" refers to the birth or emergence of transcendent beings in the form of humans or other bodies. If "incarnation" denotes the appearance of an abstract being in some concrete form, in a gut ceremony, a shaman could be considered an incarnation of our desires, hopes, and sorrows. The incarnations that appear in my work are always new and I meet them for the first time by drawing them.

In my work, hair denotes the flow of life prior to being freed from pain. I fill the hair with human struggles such as deep-rooted anxieties, stubborn attachment to life, obsessions, and restrictions. Appearing fluid like a live organism, the hair symbolizes longevity and patience, but when it appears coarse, the hair expresses an energetic life force and freedom.

If you are born a female and live as one, you can't deny your connection to feminism. I think if you are a female, you are a feminist. As far as my work goes, I don't want it to be interpreted solely from a feminist perspective, of course, but for a woman to have no interest in feminism or say that it doesn't concern her is self-denial. I know that sexism still exists within various societies and systems, whether blatantly or subtly. We are, however, much better off than previous generations.

Shamanism has a long history and exists to this day because of its ties to universal emotions such as happiness, sorrow, resentment, and love. It can function as an outlet during struggles with life and death and the burdens of society's absurdities including the divide between rich and poor. It opens up a way to confront reality.

Black does not signify the darkness related to death or nothingness, but a darkness that combines everything and holds the possibility of creation, a temporary death that embraces rebirth.

The female experience throughout the history of Korea has been accompanied by physical and mental anguish. This negative aspect of Korean history is one of the driving forces behind my work. To imagine transcending time and space to live in the body of another person is not only one of the key elements that shape my work, but also, it is an opportunity to revisit and understand the ways women have long been viewed and treated in Korea.