Black, Something - Stonescape

The Landscape of Stone, 2023

The dictionary defines a stone as a fragment of rock larger than sand and, in a broader sense, a general term for ores and rocks.
There are moments when seemingly unrelated events align perfectly, vibrating on the same frequency. Poet Chungma once cried out, “When I die, I will become a stone.” Having sung of a passionate life, Chungma became a stone in death—a poet eternalized in rock.
The stone that Chungma once kept hidden in his heart now transcends time and space to meet me, as I imagine the stone as the cart pulled by a white ox. Stones have long resided within me.

The stone in my heart has become the foundation of the outdoor shade stand in the corner of my Yangpyeong studio. It transforms into a stepping stone. Some stones serve as weights, pressing down cucumbers steeped in briny water to pickle them. Others become landscaping rocks in the untidy garden of the studio. Some stones rest on rice paper, holding it steady as I inscribe inked letters. Others serve as models on my canvas.
Some stones become the stupa monument of Buddhist monk Wonjong at Godal Temple in Yeoju. Others become the "Floating Stone" of Buseok Temple in Yeongju. Some transform into the cliffs of Bangudae in Ulju, and others into small stones scattered across the Gobi Desert.

Chungma declared, “Even when I dream, I will not sing; even if split in two, I will not cry out—I will become a stone.”