Ever since I've been introduced to fine art photography (shoutout to Mr. Antony for his guidance in IB Diploma art class), I’ve found myself immersed in the world of creating image. Zhang Jingna, Susan Sontag, Roland Barthes, Annie Leibovitz, Tim Walker—I surrounded myself with the works and philosophies of artists and thinkers like Zhang Jingna, Susan Sontag, Roland Barthes, Annie Leibovitz, and Tim Walker. As my fascination grew, I discovered even more fine art photographers whose work resonated with me deeply, such as Rala Choi, Laura Makabresku, Evelyn Bencicova, and Andrea Kiss. I used to be consumed by admiration (and, if I’m honest, a bit of jealousy), wondering when and how I could ever reach their level of artistry.

Art, for me, is more than just a visual medium; I guess, it it the only way to translate my inner struggles, to give shape to the deepest secrets I’ve kept within. And for years, one dream has remained on my bucket list as an artist: holding a solo exhibition. I had planned on doing it when I was still in Seoul, but it wasn’t meant to happen then. Every time I started preparing for it, obstacles kept appearing—none greater than my own self-doubt. As an artist, insecurity hit me the hardest when I looked at my own work and then compared it to others who were already exhibiting, even in the smallest galleries. I kept convincing myself that my work wasn’t worthy of being displayed to the public. The number of likes on Instagram felt like a measure of visibility, and when they fell short, so did my belief that people truly saw me and my work as an artist.

Then, starting last year, after countless moments of self-criticism and meeting new people in the art world, I began to see opportunities more clearly. I made the decision to fully pursue my career as an artist—despite knowing it’s one of the toughest paths to take in this country. But even so, it’s the path I choose.

Now, that dream has finally come true. DUA is more than just an exhibition—it is my voice, my way of speaking to the world. Through photography, I unravel emotions, questions, and struggles that words can no longer contain. Each image is a reflection of a moment of pause, a deep dive into my mind, a bridge connecting my inner self to the world around me. Hoping this body of work may resonates beyond myself—to sparks conversations, stirs emotions, or even offers a quiet moment of reflection.

A huge thank you to Kak Nanda from Artenspace, who has been an incredible help from the very first day they reached out to me about this exhibition; to Dimas, my new friend who somehow convinced me to join his Death Stranding cult and whose insightful conversations have meant so much; and of course, to everyone who took the time to come and see the exhibition. Your presence means everything.

Looking back at the entire process—from preparing the exhibition to the actual event—one thing is certain: I have never felt more relieved and grateful for the decision to pursue this path.

Here’s to the beginning of something even greater.