Life unfolds within decay and disintegration—not truly disappearing, but breaking out into another form. It emerges again through saprophytic growth, parasitism, or as continuity within the microscopic world. In the fluid motion of ink, I try to capture chaos: destruction is itself a kind of incubation, and an ending may also be the beginning.

 

I deliberately avoid single standards such as “health,” “light,” or “perfection.” Instead, I pose the question—when life is damaged, does it always mean failure? Or can rupture and imbalance be the starting point for the generation of a new order? Beginning from the darker sides of rot, disease, and dimness, I search for a distorted, shadowed—and even faintly eerie—vitality.

 

All things in the world are no longer simply part of a natural cycle. They are also attempts to write instructions for life itself. This “reorganization,” at its core, is a breaking of the shell: old boundaries are dismantled, and the new forms that follow are not necessarily tame. They may even appear as pathology, alienation, or in the form of symbiosis