By living on an isolated island in East Asia. My world is composed of stories and literature. These become the only way I connect to the outside world and feel free inside my mind. My imagination floats on water and the air surrounds me. I listen to the sounds of the ocean, and find the same rhythm in my heart.

For a person who lives on an island, the ocean is the end of the world. Space and time are blocked there, like a completely closed form. An outsider cannot pass through it, and an insider cannot escape. However, for the ocean itself, it is the beginning and the endless moment. I cannot understand the possibility of infinity. The ocean contains all kinds of consciousness, and it scared me a lot.