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yemopark
Yemo Park
Fictional startup businesses
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
It was a fun ride putting together wollamhrsaM, a temporary world built around the possibility that time might not have to move linearly, that maybe we could inhabit it differently for a moment.
The pink carpet arrived three days before opening, the dirt graffiti only twenty hours before. The installation kept adjusting itself at the edge of becoming, as if it only settled into its form at the moment of appearing.
Nadia carried a laughter as heavy as the house itself and made risk feel less frightening by standing inside it with me. @febelamiroy was the person I called in moments of vulnerability. Together we swam back and forth to this strange little world we were building. Pepa held the pedestal on which everything rested: steady and secure.
Two of the very first believers were Jungmyung and Liesa. Through them, wollamhrsam could be imagined. @jung_lee_type_foundry ’s graphic design gave it a body and a voice that spoke back. @liesavanderaamusic wrote a chant that stays in your head, making you stop fighting the clock and drift somewhere else.
@kasper.devos and @timodemollin stretched the project beyond my own thinking. @dirkfromearth read my inner voice out loud before I could say it. @jorienketelaar became family through proximity. @walterwathieu did his TIG magic while his heart was being torn apart by Sofia crying for her father. @uitslag_punt_net negotiated with the Riso printer through romance and got the flyers printed. @ali_coptere and @ninadelmarmol brought softness into the space through marshmallow cushions, turning it inhabitable.
Simon Nagy and Merel Schoonen helped shape the early idea. Simon’s Zeit Abschaffen fed the meme “fuck linear time,” alongside the story of Martial Bourdin’s failed attempt to bomb the Greenwich Observatory, a desire to sabotage time as productivity.
Wollamhrsam was built through many helping friends, across a time that didn’t behave itself.
I also thank the Korean Ministry of Food and Drug Safety for the interpretation job at the marshmallow factory in Wetteren, where this all began. And the quality control manager who gave me 15 kg of marshmallows to make alcohol.
Thank you @jestergenk for the support <3
Join us this evening during Borger as Yemo Park activates the barbecue sculpture from her solo exhibition “Wollamhsram”! Welcome!
Visitors are warmly invited to step into the exhibition, slow down, and let go of time while enjoying toasted marshmallows and complimentary marshmallow moonshine.
***
Exhibition: 07.03.2026 – 17.05.2026
Opening hours: Friday – Saturday, from 2 – 6 pm
During BORGER: on 27.03.2026: from 2 – 9 pm
Barbecue: 6 – 9pm
Photo: @fabiensilvestresuzor
Co-produced with @jestergenk
@borger_nocturnes
@yemopark
South-Korrean artist @yemopark is our guest during Tyfustijd on Saturday between 2 and 3pm (CET) at @radiocentraal_antwerpen
We will have a conversation about fictive bussiness, moonshine, limiting the growth of a baby, drinkable roots etc!
Yemo’s new solo exhibition opens Saturday at @lichtekooi
This Saturday I’m presenting Wollamhsram,
a cult that rises against linear time, the lies that the good moment is never now, but always somewhere in the future. The promise that if we wait patiently, we’ll get a second marshmallow.
No, no waiting! Enjoy time now! Wollamhsram!
Opening: 07.03.2026 from 6 pm
— 10 pm
Exhibition: 07.03.2026 — 17.05.2026
Opening hours: Friday — Saturday, from 2 pm
— 6 pm
And by appointment
At @lichtekooi
Graphic design, the pillar of Wollamhsram,
by @jung_lee_type_foundry 🤍
Co-production @jestergenk
This Saturday I’m presenting Wollamhsram,
a cult that rises against linear time, the lies that the good moment is never now, but always somewhere in the future. The promise that if we wait patiently, we’ll get a second marshmallow.
No, no waiting! Enjoy time now! Wollamhsram!
Opening: 07.03.2026 from 6 pm
— 10 pm
Exhibition: 07.03.2026 — 17.05.2026
Opening hours: Friday — Saturday, from 2 pm
— 6 pm
And by appointment
At @lichtekooi
Graphic design, the pillar of Wollamhsram,
by @jung_lee_type_foundry 🤍
Co-production @jestergenk
This Saturday I’m presenting Wollamhsram,
a cult that rises against linear time, the lies that the good moment is never now, but always somewhere in the future. The promise that if we wait patiently, we’ll get a second marshmallow.
No, no waiting! Enjoy time now! Wollamhsram!
Opening: 07.03.2026 from 6 pm
— 10 pm
Exhibition: 07.03.2026 — 17.05.2026
Opening hours: Friday — Saturday, from 2 pm
— 6 pm
And by appointment
At @lichtekooi
Graphic design, the pillar of Wollamhsram,
by @jung_lee_type_foundry 🤍
Co-production @jestergenk
Yemo Park — “Wollamhsram”
OPENING Saturday 07.03 from 6pm
Yemo Park (°1990, Seoul, lives and works in Brussels) develops her artistic practice through self-contained, often absurd, fictional business concepts. Rather than aiming for market success, these projects function as conceptual frameworks that explore artistic autonomy, labor, the human condition, and the social forces shaping everyday life. In Wollamhsram, Park extends this approach by transforming Lichtekooi into a fictional house of worship centered on the desire to “enjoy time”. Through fiction, material symbolism, and moonshine, the project opens a space for questioning capitalist notions of productivity, self-control, and deferred gratification. Rather than promoting devotion to a fixed object, it invites participants to experience time as layered, collective, queer, looping, sedimented, and open-ended.
***
Opening: 07.03.2026 from 6 pm
Exhibition: 07.03.2026-17.05.2026
Open Fridays and Saturdays from 2-6 pm
And by appointment
Graphic design by Jungmyung Lee
Co-produced with Jester
@yemopark
Yemo Park — “Wollamhsram”
OPENING Saturday 07.03 from 6pm
Yemo Park (°1990, Seoul, lives and works in Brussels) develops her artistic practice through self-contained, often absurd, fictional business concepts. Rather than aiming for market success, these projects function as conceptual frameworks that explore artistic autonomy, labor, the human condition, and the social forces shaping everyday life. In Wollamhsram, Park extends this approach by transforming Lichtekooi into a fictional house of worship centered on the desire to “enjoy time”. Through fiction, material symbolism, and moonshine, the project opens a space for questioning capitalist notions of productivity, self-control, and deferred gratification. Rather than promoting devotion to a fixed object, it invites participants to experience time as layered, collective, queer, looping, sedimented, and open-ended.
***
Opening: 07.03.2026 from 6 pm
Exhibition: 07.03.2026-17.05.2026
Open Fridays and Saturdays from 2-6 pm
And by appointment
Graphic design by Jungmyung Lee
Co-produced with Jester
@yemopark
좋아하는 것을 하면서 그리고 생각하는 것들을 다른사람들과 나누는 일을 하면서 살 수 있어서 행복하다! 나보다 경험이 많고 지혜로운 주변사람들로부터 배울 수 있는 환경에서 살 수 있어서 감사하다! 정말 감사하다!
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ warmly welcomes its resident Yemo Park!
What arises when fictional enterprises probe the systems defining artistic autonomy, labor, and the complex social and material forces shaping diverse cultural and economic values? These self-sustaining, often absurd ventures operate not as market-driven enterprises but as conceptual instruments probing the often-invisible dynamics that govern creative work and its place within broader socioeconomic frameworks. The resulting sculptures and installations inhabit a complex space where they simultaneously mimic and critique existing economic and industrial frameworks, interrogating their assumptions and limitations while proposing alternative modalities of production and value that challenge conventional art market dynamics.
NL
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ heet haar resident Yemo Park van harte welkom!
Wat ontstaat er wanneer fictieve ondernemingen de systemen onderzoeken die artistieke autonomie, arbeid en de complexe sociale en materiële krachten definiëren die diverse culturele en economische waarden vormgeven? Deze zelfvoorzienende, vaak absurde ondernemingen functioneren niet als marktgedreven bedrijven, maar als conceptuele instrumenten die de vaak onzichtbare dynamiek onderzoeken die creatief werk en zijn plaats binnen bredere sociaaleconomische kaders beheerst. De resulterende sculpturen en installaties bevinden zich in een complexe ruimte waar ze tegelijkertijd bestaande economische en industriële kaders nabootsen en bekritiseren, hun aannames en beperkingen in twijfel trekken en alternatieve productiemodaliteiten en waarden voorstellen die de conventionele dynamiek van de kunstmarkt uitdagen.
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ warmly welcomes its resident Yemo Park!
What arises when fictional enterprises probe the systems defining artistic autonomy, labor, and the complex social and material forces shaping diverse cultural and economic values? These self-sustaining, often absurd ventures operate not as market-driven enterprises but as conceptual instruments probing the often-invisible dynamics that govern creative work and its place within broader socioeconomic frameworks. The resulting sculptures and installations inhabit a complex space where they simultaneously mimic and critique existing economic and industrial frameworks, interrogating their assumptions and limitations while proposing alternative modalities of production and value that challenge conventional art market dynamics.
NL
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ heet haar resident Yemo Park van harte welkom!
Wat ontstaat er wanneer fictieve ondernemingen de systemen onderzoeken die artistieke autonomie, arbeid en de complexe sociale en materiële krachten definiëren die diverse culturele en economische waarden vormgeven? Deze zelfvoorzienende, vaak absurde ondernemingen functioneren niet als marktgedreven bedrijven, maar als conceptuele instrumenten die de vaak onzichtbare dynamiek onderzoeken die creatief werk en zijn plaats binnen bredere sociaaleconomische kaders beheerst. De resulterende sculpturen en installaties bevinden zich in een complexe ruimte waar ze tegelijkertijd bestaande economische en industriële kaders nabootsen en bekritiseren, hun aannames en beperkingen in twijfel trekken en alternatieve productiemodaliteiten en waarden voorstellen die de conventionele dynamiek van de kunstmarkt uitdagen.
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ warmly welcomes its resident Yemo Park!
What arises when fictional enterprises probe the systems defining artistic autonomy, labor, and the complex social and material forces shaping diverse cultural and economic values? These self-sustaining, often absurd ventures operate not as market-driven enterprises but as conceptual instruments probing the often-invisible dynamics that govern creative work and its place within broader socioeconomic frameworks. The resulting sculptures and installations inhabit a complex space where they simultaneously mimic and critique existing economic and industrial frameworks, interrogating their assumptions and limitations while proposing alternative modalities of production and value that challenge conventional art market dynamics.
NL
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ heet haar resident Yemo Park van harte welkom!
Wat ontstaat er wanneer fictieve ondernemingen de systemen onderzoeken die artistieke autonomie, arbeid en de complexe sociale en materiële krachten definiëren die diverse culturele en economische waarden vormgeven? Deze zelfvoorzienende, vaak absurde ondernemingen functioneren niet als marktgedreven bedrijven, maar als conceptuele instrumenten die de vaak onzichtbare dynamiek onderzoeken die creatief werk en zijn plaats binnen bredere sociaaleconomische kaders beheerst. De resulterende sculpturen en installaties bevinden zich in een complexe ruimte waar ze tegelijkertijd bestaande economische en industriële kaders nabootsen en bekritiseren, hun aannames en beperkingen in twijfel trekken en alternatieve productiemodaliteiten en waarden voorstellen die de conventionele dynamiek van de kunstmarkt uitdagen.
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ warmly welcomes its resident Yemo Park!
What arises when fictional enterprises probe the systems defining artistic autonomy, labor, and the complex social and material forces shaping diverse cultural and economic values? These self-sustaining, often absurd ventures operate not as market-driven enterprises but as conceptual instruments probing the often-invisible dynamics that govern creative work and its place within broader socioeconomic frameworks. The resulting sculptures and installations inhabit a complex space where they simultaneously mimic and critique existing economic and industrial frameworks, interrogating their assumptions and limitations while proposing alternative modalities of production and value that challenge conventional art market dynamics.
NL
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ heet haar resident Yemo Park van harte welkom!
Wat ontstaat er wanneer fictieve ondernemingen de systemen onderzoeken die artistieke autonomie, arbeid en de complexe sociale en materiële krachten definiëren die diverse culturele en economische waarden vormgeven? Deze zelfvoorzienende, vaak absurde ondernemingen functioneren niet als marktgedreven bedrijven, maar als conceptuele instrumenten die de vaak onzichtbare dynamiek onderzoeken die creatief werk en zijn plaats binnen bredere sociaaleconomische kaders beheerst. De resulterende sculpturen en installaties bevinden zich in een complexe ruimte waar ze tegelijkertijd bestaande economische en industriële kaders nabootsen en bekritiseren, hun aannames en beperkingen in twijfel trekken en alternatieve productiemodaliteiten en waarden voorstellen die de conventionele dynamiek van de kunstmarkt uitdagen.
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ warmly welcomes its resident Yemo Park!
What arises when fictional enterprises probe the systems defining artistic autonomy, labor, and the complex social and material forces shaping diverse cultural and economic values? These self-sustaining, often absurd ventures operate not as market-driven enterprises but as conceptual instruments probing the often-invisible dynamics that govern creative work and its place within broader socioeconomic frameworks. The resulting sculptures and installations inhabit a complex space where they simultaneously mimic and critique existing economic and industrial frameworks, interrogating their assumptions and limitations while proposing alternative modalities of production and value that challenge conventional art market dynamics.
NL
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ heet haar resident Yemo Park van harte welkom!
Wat ontstaat er wanneer fictieve ondernemingen de systemen onderzoeken die artistieke autonomie, arbeid en de complexe sociale en materiële krachten definiëren die diverse culturele en economische waarden vormgeven? Deze zelfvoorzienende, vaak absurde ondernemingen functioneren niet als marktgedreven bedrijven, maar als conceptuele instrumenten die de vaak onzichtbare dynamiek onderzoeken die creatief werk en zijn plaats binnen bredere sociaaleconomische kaders beheerst. De resulterende sculpturen en installaties bevinden zich in een complexe ruimte waar ze tegelijkertijd bestaande economische en industriële kaders nabootsen en bekritiseren, hun aannames en beperkingen in twijfel trekken en alternatieve productiemodaliteiten en waarden voorstellen die de conventionele dynamiek van de kunstmarkt uitdagen.
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ warmly welcomes its resident Yemo Park!
What arises when fictional enterprises probe the systems defining artistic autonomy, labor, and the complex social and material forces shaping diverse cultural and economic values? These self-sustaining, often absurd ventures operate not as market-driven enterprises but as conceptual instruments probing the often-invisible dynamics that govern creative work and its place within broader socioeconomic frameworks. The resulting sculptures and installations inhabit a complex space where they simultaneously mimic and critique existing economic and industrial frameworks, interrogating their assumptions and limitations while proposing alternative modalities of production and value that challenge conventional art market dynamics.
NL
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ heet haar resident Yemo Park van harte welkom!
Wat ontstaat er wanneer fictieve ondernemingen de systemen onderzoeken die artistieke autonomie, arbeid en de complexe sociale en materiële krachten definiëren die diverse culturele en economische waarden vormgeven? Deze zelfvoorzienende, vaak absurde ondernemingen functioneren niet als marktgedreven bedrijven, maar als conceptuele instrumenten die de vaak onzichtbare dynamiek onderzoeken die creatief werk en zijn plaats binnen bredere sociaaleconomische kaders beheerst. De resulterende sculpturen en installaties bevinden zich in een complexe ruimte waar ze tegelijkertijd bestaande economische en industriële kaders nabootsen en bekritiseren, hun aannames en beperkingen in twijfel trekken en alternatieve productiemodaliteiten en waarden voorstellen die de conventionele dynamiek van de kunstmarkt uitdagen.
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ warmly welcomes its resident Yemo Park!
What arises when fictional enterprises probe the systems defining artistic autonomy, labor, and the complex social and material forces shaping diverse cultural and economic values? These self-sustaining, often absurd ventures operate not as market-driven enterprises but as conceptual instruments probing the often-invisible dynamics that govern creative work and its place within broader socioeconomic frameworks. The resulting sculptures and installations inhabit a complex space where they simultaneously mimic and critique existing economic and industrial frameworks, interrogating their assumptions and limitations while proposing alternative modalities of production and value that challenge conventional art market dynamics.
NL
ⓙⓔⓢⓣⓔⓡ heet haar resident Yemo Park van harte welkom!
Wat ontstaat er wanneer fictieve ondernemingen de systemen onderzoeken die artistieke autonomie, arbeid en de complexe sociale en materiële krachten definiëren die diverse culturele en economische waarden vormgeven? Deze zelfvoorzienende, vaak absurde ondernemingen functioneren niet als marktgedreven bedrijven, maar als conceptuele instrumenten die de vaak onzichtbare dynamiek onderzoeken die creatief werk en zijn plaats binnen bredere sociaaleconomische kaders beheerst. De resulterende sculpturen en installaties bevinden zich in een complexe ruimte waar ze tegelijkertijd bestaande economische en industriële kaders nabootsen en bekritiseren, hun aannames en beperkingen in twijfel trekken en alternatieve productiemodaliteiten en waarden voorstellen die de conventionele dynamiek van de kunstmarkt uitdagen.
The three diving belts is meant for the three lives of my late grandmother, of which the two continue through my mother and me.
My grandmother used to sell bellflower root, corn, ginkgo nuts, and mushrooms at a wholesale market in Seoul. With that work, she bought two houses and put all five of her children through school.
She died after 17 years of living with Parkinson. My mum cared for her during the last 5 years of her life. A year after she passed, my mum nearly drowned at the sea while snorkelling with me. As i tried to pull her to safety, her skin turned blue and green, she felt heavy, then suddenly light, and for a moment i thought she had died in my arms. In that moment, i was made into a rock: my mum’s rock, shaped by my grandmother. Hard and silent.
‘Mom-i’,
brass, used bicycle tube, plastic bag, Arduino, telescopic hose with fittings, volcanic Jeju rocks, linen threads, leather belt
2025
The work was shown in the exhibition <Sublunary>, @daeseom_artspace last August,
together with
@k_junghun_ybj, @piputka1, @joppevenema, @juliadaheehong, @ignacyradtke, @jjjjjjjjjjpadrino, @b1nk0h
The first picture is taken by my best friend @sehyun_shin
<3333
The three diving belts is meant for the three lives of my late grandmother, of which the two continue through my mother and me.
My grandmother used to sell bellflower root, corn, ginkgo nuts, and mushrooms at a wholesale market in Seoul. With that work, she bought two houses and put all five of her children through school.
She died after 17 years of living with Parkinson. My mum cared for her during the last 5 years of her life. A year after she passed, my mum nearly drowned at the sea while snorkelling with me. As i tried to pull her to safety, her skin turned blue and green, she felt heavy, then suddenly light, and for a moment i thought she had died in my arms. In that moment, i was made into a rock: my mum’s rock, shaped by my grandmother. Hard and silent.
‘Mom-i’,
brass, used bicycle tube, plastic bag, Arduino, telescopic hose with fittings, volcanic Jeju rocks, linen threads, leather belt
2025
The work was shown in the exhibition <Sublunary>, @daeseom_artspace last August,
together with
@k_junghun_ybj, @piputka1, @joppevenema, @juliadaheehong, @ignacyradtke, @jjjjjjjjjjpadrino, @b1nk0h
The first picture is taken by my best friend @sehyun_shin
<3333
The three diving belts is meant for the three lives of my late grandmother, of which the two continue through my mother and me.
My grandmother used to sell bellflower root, corn, ginkgo nuts, and mushrooms at a wholesale market in Seoul. With that work, she bought two houses and put all five of her children through school.
She died after 17 years of living with Parkinson. My mum cared for her during the last 5 years of her life. A year after she passed, my mum nearly drowned at the sea while snorkelling with me. As i tried to pull her to safety, her skin turned blue and green, she felt heavy, then suddenly light, and for a moment i thought she had died in my arms. In that moment, i was made into a rock: my mum’s rock, shaped by my grandmother. Hard and silent.
‘Mom-i’,
brass, used bicycle tube, plastic bag, Arduino, telescopic hose with fittings, volcanic Jeju rocks, linen threads, leather belt
2025
The work was shown in the exhibition <Sublunary>, @daeseom_artspace last August,
together with
@k_junghun_ybj, @piputka1, @joppevenema, @juliadaheehong, @ignacyradtke, @jjjjjjjjjjpadrino, @b1nk0h
The first picture is taken by my best friend @sehyun_shin
<3333
The three diving belts is meant for the three lives of my late grandmother, of which the two continue through my mother and me.
My grandmother used to sell bellflower root, corn, ginkgo nuts, and mushrooms at a wholesale market in Seoul. With that work, she bought two houses and put all five of her children through school.
She died after 17 years of living with Parkinson. My mum cared for her during the last 5 years of her life. A year after she passed, my mum nearly drowned at the sea while snorkelling with me. As i tried to pull her to safety, her skin turned blue and green, she felt heavy, then suddenly light, and for a moment i thought she had died in my arms. In that moment, i was made into a rock: my mum’s rock, shaped by my grandmother. Hard and silent.
‘Mom-i’,
brass, used bicycle tube, plastic bag, Arduino, telescopic hose with fittings, volcanic Jeju rocks, linen threads, leather belt
2025
The work was shown in the exhibition <Sublunary>, @daeseom_artspace last August,
together with
@k_junghun_ybj, @piputka1, @joppevenema, @juliadaheehong, @ignacyradtke, @jjjjjjjjjjpadrino, @b1nk0h
The first picture is taken by my best friend @sehyun_shin
<3333
The three diving belts is meant for the three lives of my late grandmother, of which the two continue through my mother and me.
My grandmother used to sell bellflower root, corn, ginkgo nuts, and mushrooms at a wholesale market in Seoul. With that work, she bought two houses and put all five of her children through school.
She died after 17 years of living with Parkinson. My mum cared for her during the last 5 years of her life. A year after she passed, my mum nearly drowned at the sea while snorkelling with me. As i tried to pull her to safety, her skin turned blue and green, she felt heavy, then suddenly light, and for a moment i thought she had died in my arms. In that moment, i was made into a rock: my mum’s rock, shaped by my grandmother. Hard and silent.
‘Mom-i’,
brass, used bicycle tube, plastic bag, Arduino, telescopic hose with fittings, volcanic Jeju rocks, linen threads, leather belt
2025
The work was shown in the exhibition <Sublunary>, @daeseom_artspace last August,
together with
@k_junghun_ybj, @piputka1, @joppevenema, @juliadaheehong, @ignacyradtke, @jjjjjjjjjjpadrino, @b1nk0h
The first picture is taken by my best friend @sehyun_shin
<3333
The three diving belts is meant for the three lives of my late grandmother, of which the two continue through my mother and me.
My grandmother used to sell bellflower root, corn, ginkgo nuts, and mushrooms at a wholesale market in Seoul. With that work, she bought two houses and put all five of her children through school.
She died after 17 years of living with Parkinson. My mum cared for her during the last 5 years of her life. A year after she passed, my mum nearly drowned at the sea while snorkelling with me. As i tried to pull her to safety, her skin turned blue and green, she felt heavy, then suddenly light, and for a moment i thought she had died in my arms. In that moment, i was made into a rock: my mum’s rock, shaped by my grandmother. Hard and silent.
‘Mom-i’,
brass, used bicycle tube, plastic bag, Arduino, telescopic hose with fittings, volcanic Jeju rocks, linen threads, leather belt
2025
The work was shown in the exhibition <Sublunary>, @daeseom_artspace last August,
together with
@k_junghun_ybj, @piputka1, @joppevenema, @juliadaheehong, @ignacyradtke, @jjjjjjjjjjpadrino, @b1nk0h
The first picture is taken by my best friend @sehyun_shin
<3333
The three diving belts is meant for the three lives of my late grandmother, of which the two continue through my mother and me.
My grandmother used to sell bellflower root, corn, ginkgo nuts, and mushrooms at a wholesale market in Seoul. With that work, she bought two houses and put all five of her children through school.
She died after 17 years of living with Parkinson. My mum cared for her during the last 5 years of her life. A year after she passed, my mum nearly drowned at the sea while snorkelling with me. As i tried to pull her to safety, her skin turned blue and green, she felt heavy, then suddenly light, and for a moment i thought she had died in my arms. In that moment, i was made into a rock: my mum’s rock, shaped by my grandmother. Hard and silent.
‘Mom-i’,
brass, used bicycle tube, plastic bag, Arduino, telescopic hose with fittings, volcanic Jeju rocks, linen threads, leather belt
2025
The work was shown in the exhibition <Sublunary>, @daeseom_artspace last August,
together with
@k_junghun_ybj, @piputka1, @joppevenema, @juliadaheehong, @ignacyradtke, @jjjjjjjjjjpadrino, @b1nk0h
The first picture is taken by my best friend @sehyun_shin
<3333
The three diving belts is meant for the three lives of my late grandmother, of which the two continue through my mother and me.
My grandmother used to sell bellflower root, corn, ginkgo nuts, and mushrooms at a wholesale market in Seoul. With that work, she bought two houses and put all five of her children through school.
She died after 17 years of living with Parkinson. My mum cared for her during the last 5 years of her life. A year after she passed, my mum nearly drowned at the sea while snorkelling with me. As i tried to pull her to safety, her skin turned blue and green, she felt heavy, then suddenly light, and for a moment i thought she had died in my arms. In that moment, i was made into a rock: my mum’s rock, shaped by my grandmother. Hard and silent.
‘Mom-i’,
brass, used bicycle tube, plastic bag, Arduino, telescopic hose with fittings, volcanic Jeju rocks, linen threads, leather belt
2025
The work was shown in the exhibition <Sublunary>, @daeseom_artspace last August,
together with
@k_junghun_ybj, @piputka1, @joppevenema, @juliadaheehong, @ignacyradtke, @jjjjjjjjjjpadrino, @b1nk0h
The first picture is taken by my best friend @sehyun_shin
<3333
👋 Ouroboros has me back again ♾️ With some news: over the last year I have been working on a book project. And: all of the numerous parts which made me work with a lot of great people are slowly coming together: »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« will be out in December. But! The board game »31. Game« by @yemopark will be presented already at @viennaartbookfair this weekend. Come by and play with us, @yemopark will guide through the game on Saturday, 4pm at the Auditorium @viennaartbookfair.
»31. Game« by Yemo Park for »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« by Magdalena Kreinecker with Simon Nagy and guests
published by @textem, book release 08.12.2025 @fluccvienna
Concept and drawings – Yemo Park upon commission for »game«
Design – Theresa Hattinger
Screen print – Magdalena Kreinecker
1-2,5 @marcokleebauer
👋 Ouroboros has me back again ♾️ With some news: over the last year I have been working on a book project. And: all of the numerous parts which made me work with a lot of great people are slowly coming together: »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« will be out in December. But! The board game »31. Game« by @yemopark will be presented already at @viennaartbookfair this weekend. Come by and play with us, @yemopark will guide through the game on Saturday, 4pm at the Auditorium @viennaartbookfair.
»31. Game« by Yemo Park for »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« by Magdalena Kreinecker with Simon Nagy and guests
published by @textem, book release 08.12.2025 @fluccvienna
Concept and drawings – Yemo Park upon commission for »game«
Design – Theresa Hattinger
Screen print – Magdalena Kreinecker
1-2,5 @marcokleebauer
👋 Ouroboros has me back again ♾️ With some news: over the last year I have been working on a book project. And: all of the numerous parts which made me work with a lot of great people are slowly coming together: »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« will be out in December. But! The board game »31. Game« by @yemopark will be presented already at @viennaartbookfair this weekend. Come by and play with us, @yemopark will guide through the game on Saturday, 4pm at the Auditorium @viennaartbookfair.
»31. Game« by Yemo Park for »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« by Magdalena Kreinecker with Simon Nagy and guests
published by @textem, book release 08.12.2025 @fluccvienna
Concept and drawings – Yemo Park upon commission for »game«
Design – Theresa Hattinger
Screen print – Magdalena Kreinecker
1-2,5 @marcokleebauer
👋 Ouroboros has me back again ♾️ With some news: over the last year I have been working on a book project. And: all of the numerous parts which made me work with a lot of great people are slowly coming together: »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« will be out in December. But! The board game »31. Game« by @yemopark will be presented already at @viennaartbookfair this weekend. Come by and play with us, @yemopark will guide through the game on Saturday, 4pm at the Auditorium @viennaartbookfair.
»31. Game« by Yemo Park for »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« by Magdalena Kreinecker with Simon Nagy and guests
published by @textem, book release 08.12.2025 @fluccvienna
Concept and drawings – Yemo Park upon commission for »game«
Design – Theresa Hattinger
Screen print – Magdalena Kreinecker
1-2,5 @marcokleebauer
👋 Ouroboros has me back again ♾️ With some news: over the last year I have been working on a book project. And: all of the numerous parts which made me work with a lot of great people are slowly coming together: »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« will be out in December. But! The board game »31. Game« by @yemopark will be presented already at @viennaartbookfair this weekend. Come by and play with us, @yemopark will guide through the game on Saturday, 4pm at the Auditorium @viennaartbookfair.
»31. Game« by Yemo Park for »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« by Magdalena Kreinecker with Simon Nagy and guests
published by @textem, book release 08.12.2025 @fluccvienna
Concept and drawings – Yemo Park upon commission for »game«
Design – Theresa Hattinger
Screen print – Magdalena Kreinecker
1-2,5 @marcokleebauer
👋 Ouroboros has me back again ♾️ With some news: over the last year I have been working on a book project. And: all of the numerous parts which made me work with a lot of great people are slowly coming together: »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« will be out in December. But! The board game »31. Game« by @yemopark will be presented already at @viennaartbookfair this weekend. Come by and play with us, @yemopark will guide through the game on Saturday, 4pm at the Auditorium @viennaartbookfair.
»31. Game« by Yemo Park for »Smoke, Birds, Pun, Crisis. A Dialogic Glossary« by Magdalena Kreinecker with Simon Nagy and guests
published by @textem, book release 08.12.2025 @fluccvienna
Concept and drawings – Yemo Park upon commission for »game«
Design – Theresa Hattinger
Screen print – Magdalena Kreinecker
1-2,5 @marcokleebauer
I came down to Nomi yesterday, and it was the first time I came on my own. Before, I had always visited with my mum or my uncle, since my grandmother was buried in a village nearby. I didn’t know Nomi well until after my grandmother passed away.
When I arrived at the senior centre, after dropping my bag in her empty house, a dozen old ladies from the village were gathered around in a room, playing their daily card game, the battle of the flowers. I knew that’s where Nomi would be, so I headed there to meet her. The women were kind but very curious about who I was. I realised then, when Nomi tried to explain that I was her cousin’s granddaughter, how far apart we actually are in the family tree, and how my staying with her must have felt like a mystery to the other grannies. Maybe that was only me feeling insecure. Maybe no one thought of it that way.
I like being in Nomi’s house because she reminds me of my grandmother. I like sitting next to her in the early evening, watching TV, because I used to do the same with my grandmother. But she wasn’t as talkative or witty as Nomi, she was calm and introverted. I remember the small, sweet smile she made when she found me adorable. She loved me, and I could feel it when she sat across from me, quietly watching me eat.
That’s when I understood that I wasn’t really there for the games, or even for Nomi, but because I wanted to feel my grandmother again, to feel what it was like to be under a shelter, loved and protected.
At the senior centre, I met a woman whose face carried a few features of my grandmother, the roundness of her cheekbones, the tone of her light brown skin, the glow in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat when she sat down beside me, and it made me realise what it was that had brought me there. The wish to feel again being with my grandmother. And I was disappointed, sad to find myself that way, in the middle of sweet old ladies, reaching for a tenderness that didn’t quite belong to me.
I came down to Nomi yesterday, and it was the first time I came on my own. Before, I had always visited with my mum or my uncle, since my grandmother was buried in a village nearby. I didn’t know Nomi well until after my grandmother passed away.
When I arrived at the senior centre, after dropping my bag in her empty house, a dozen old ladies from the village were gathered around in a room, playing their daily card game, the battle of the flowers. I knew that’s where Nomi would be, so I headed there to meet her. The women were kind but very curious about who I was. I realised then, when Nomi tried to explain that I was her cousin’s granddaughter, how far apart we actually are in the family tree, and how my staying with her must have felt like a mystery to the other grannies. Maybe that was only me feeling insecure. Maybe no one thought of it that way.
I like being in Nomi’s house because she reminds me of my grandmother. I like sitting next to her in the early evening, watching TV, because I used to do the same with my grandmother. But she wasn’t as talkative or witty as Nomi, she was calm and introverted. I remember the small, sweet smile she made when she found me adorable. She loved me, and I could feel it when she sat across from me, quietly watching me eat.
That’s when I understood that I wasn’t really there for the games, or even for Nomi, but because I wanted to feel my grandmother again, to feel what it was like to be under a shelter, loved and protected.
At the senior centre, I met a woman whose face carried a few features of my grandmother, the roundness of her cheekbones, the tone of her light brown skin, the glow in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat when she sat down beside me, and it made me realise what it was that had brought me there. The wish to feel again being with my grandmother. And I was disappointed, sad to find myself that way, in the middle of sweet old ladies, reaching for a tenderness that didn’t quite belong to me.
I came down to Nomi yesterday, and it was the first time I came on my own. Before, I had always visited with my mum or my uncle, since my grandmother was buried in a village nearby. I didn’t know Nomi well until after my grandmother passed away.
When I arrived at the senior centre, after dropping my bag in her empty house, a dozen old ladies from the village were gathered around in a room, playing their daily card game, the battle of the flowers. I knew that’s where Nomi would be, so I headed there to meet her. The women were kind but very curious about who I was. I realised then, when Nomi tried to explain that I was her cousin’s granddaughter, how far apart we actually are in the family tree, and how my staying with her must have felt like a mystery to the other grannies. Maybe that was only me feeling insecure. Maybe no one thought of it that way.
I like being in Nomi’s house because she reminds me of my grandmother. I like sitting next to her in the early evening, watching TV, because I used to do the same with my grandmother. But she wasn’t as talkative or witty as Nomi, she was calm and introverted. I remember the small, sweet smile she made when she found me adorable. She loved me, and I could feel it when she sat across from me, quietly watching me eat.
That’s when I understood that I wasn’t really there for the games, or even for Nomi, but because I wanted to feel my grandmother again, to feel what it was like to be under a shelter, loved and protected.
At the senior centre, I met a woman whose face carried a few features of my grandmother, the roundness of her cheekbones, the tone of her light brown skin, the glow in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat when she sat down beside me, and it made me realise what it was that had brought me there. The wish to feel again being with my grandmother. And I was disappointed, sad to find myself that way, in the middle of sweet old ladies, reaching for a tenderness that didn’t quite belong to me.
I came down to Nomi yesterday, and it was the first time I came on my own. Before, I had always visited with my mum or my uncle, since my grandmother was buried in a village nearby. I didn’t know Nomi well until after my grandmother passed away.
When I arrived at the senior centre, after dropping my bag in her empty house, a dozen old ladies from the village were gathered around in a room, playing their daily card game, the battle of the flowers. I knew that’s where Nomi would be, so I headed there to meet her. The women were kind but very curious about who I was. I realised then, when Nomi tried to explain that I was her cousin’s granddaughter, how far apart we actually are in the family tree, and how my staying with her must have felt like a mystery to the other grannies. Maybe that was only me feeling insecure. Maybe no one thought of it that way.
I like being in Nomi’s house because she reminds me of my grandmother. I like sitting next to her in the early evening, watching TV, because I used to do the same with my grandmother. But she wasn’t as talkative or witty as Nomi, she was calm and introverted. I remember the small, sweet smile she made when she found me adorable. She loved me, and I could feel it when she sat across from me, quietly watching me eat.
That’s when I understood that I wasn’t really there for the games, or even for Nomi, but because I wanted to feel my grandmother again, to feel what it was like to be under a shelter, loved and protected.
At the senior centre, I met a woman whose face carried a few features of my grandmother, the roundness of her cheekbones, the tone of her light brown skin, the glow in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat when she sat down beside me, and it made me realise what it was that had brought me there. The wish to feel again being with my grandmother. And I was disappointed, sad to find myself that way, in the middle of sweet old ladies, reaching for a tenderness that didn’t quite belong to me.
I came down to Nomi yesterday, and it was the first time I came on my own. Before, I had always visited with my mum or my uncle, since my grandmother was buried in a village nearby. I didn’t know Nomi well until after my grandmother passed away.
When I arrived at the senior centre, after dropping my bag in her empty house, a dozen old ladies from the village were gathered around in a room, playing their daily card game, the battle of the flowers. I knew that’s where Nomi would be, so I headed there to meet her. The women were kind but very curious about who I was. I realised then, when Nomi tried to explain that I was her cousin’s granddaughter, how far apart we actually are in the family tree, and how my staying with her must have felt like a mystery to the other grannies. Maybe that was only me feeling insecure. Maybe no one thought of it that way.
I like being in Nomi’s house because she reminds me of my grandmother. I like sitting next to her in the early evening, watching TV, because I used to do the same with my grandmother. But she wasn’t as talkative or witty as Nomi, she was calm and introverted. I remember the small, sweet smile she made when she found me adorable. She loved me, and I could feel it when she sat across from me, quietly watching me eat.
That’s when I understood that I wasn’t really there for the games, or even for Nomi, but because I wanted to feel my grandmother again, to feel what it was like to be under a shelter, loved and protected.
At the senior centre, I met a woman whose face carried a few features of my grandmother, the roundness of her cheekbones, the tone of her light brown skin, the glow in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat when she sat down beside me, and it made me realise what it was that had brought me there. The wish to feel again being with my grandmother. And I was disappointed, sad to find myself that way, in the middle of sweet old ladies, reaching for a tenderness that didn’t quite belong to me.
I came down to Nomi yesterday, and it was the first time I came on my own. Before, I had always visited with my mum or my uncle, since my grandmother was buried in a village nearby. I didn’t know Nomi well until after my grandmother passed away.
When I arrived at the senior centre, after dropping my bag in her empty house, a dozen old ladies from the village were gathered around in a room, playing their daily card game, the battle of the flowers. I knew that’s where Nomi would be, so I headed there to meet her. The women were kind but very curious about who I was. I realised then, when Nomi tried to explain that I was her cousin’s granddaughter, how far apart we actually are in the family tree, and how my staying with her must have felt like a mystery to the other grannies. Maybe that was only me feeling insecure. Maybe no one thought of it that way.
I like being in Nomi’s house because she reminds me of my grandmother. I like sitting next to her in the early evening, watching TV, because I used to do the same with my grandmother. But she wasn’t as talkative or witty as Nomi, she was calm and introverted. I remember the small, sweet smile she made when she found me adorable. She loved me, and I could feel it when she sat across from me, quietly watching me eat.
That’s when I understood that I wasn’t really there for the games, or even for Nomi, but because I wanted to feel my grandmother again, to feel what it was like to be under a shelter, loved and protected.
At the senior centre, I met a woman whose face carried a few features of my grandmother, the roundness of her cheekbones, the tone of her light brown skin, the glow in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat when she sat down beside me, and it made me realise what it was that had brought me there. The wish to feel again being with my grandmother. And I was disappointed, sad to find myself that way, in the middle of sweet old ladies, reaching for a tenderness that didn’t quite belong to me.
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a sculpture using marble from Saint-Béat-lez during a residency in Saint-Béat, in the French Pyrenees.
The female torso and baby hand on the back are copies of an existing sculpture at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Where the original was damaged, I added snails.
The work is inspired by the theory of 19th Century French pseudoscientist Jules Allix, who claimed that once two snails mate, they remain eternally connected, no matter the distance, through an invisible fluid released during sex. This fluid seeps into the ground and stretches infinitely, like a spider web. Each snail would forever sense what happens to the other.
Proving how we are connected to one another is a complicated business, because we know so little about our unconscious mind. Yet we often feel connected: to others, to places, to things, even to artworks.
This sculpture is a kind of stepping stone toward a new interest in this subject.
I would like to thank all the people who made my time at Saint-Béat so lovely !
When everything feels perfect, where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re surrounded by, that’s how I felt :) connectionzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZ
Thank you,
🐌@nurcarrerasescultura for your guidance and feeding us with your cuteness !
🐌@williemorlon for being the sun you are, radiating warm and bright energy
🐌@tom_jablin for being my backbone and saving me from Lyme disease
🐌@victordelestre for the pajama parties, shared dream stories, and moral support <3
and 🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌
Aleksandar, Frank, Karel, Andrea, Thibault, Gloria, and all who passed by and checked in, wondering if I’d have time to carve the snails. Hahaha!
Thank you @festivalmarbreetarts for having me!
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a sculpture using marble from Saint-Béat-lez during a residency in Saint-Béat, in the French Pyrenees.
The female torso and baby hand on the back are copies of an existing sculpture at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Where the original was damaged, I added snails.
The work is inspired by the theory of 19th Century French pseudoscientist Jules Allix, who claimed that once two snails mate, they remain eternally connected, no matter the distance, through an invisible fluid released during sex. This fluid seeps into the ground and stretches infinitely, like a spider web. Each snail would forever sense what happens to the other.
Proving how we are connected to one another is a complicated business, because we know so little about our unconscious mind. Yet we often feel connected: to others, to places, to things, even to artworks.
This sculpture is a kind of stepping stone toward a new interest in this subject.
I would like to thank all the people who made my time at Saint-Béat so lovely !
When everything feels perfect, where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re surrounded by, that’s how I felt :) connectionzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZ
Thank you,
🐌@nurcarrerasescultura for your guidance and feeding us with your cuteness !
🐌@williemorlon for being the sun you are, radiating warm and bright energy
🐌@tom_jablin for being my backbone and saving me from Lyme disease
🐌@victordelestre for the pajama parties, shared dream stories, and moral support <3
and 🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌
Aleksandar, Frank, Karel, Andrea, Thibault, Gloria, and all who passed by and checked in, wondering if I’d have time to carve the snails. Hahaha!
Thank you @festivalmarbreetarts for having me!
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a sculpture using marble from Saint-Béat-lez during a residency in Saint-Béat, in the French Pyrenees.
The female torso and baby hand on the back are copies of an existing sculpture at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Where the original was damaged, I added snails.
The work is inspired by the theory of 19th Century French pseudoscientist Jules Allix, who claimed that once two snails mate, they remain eternally connected, no matter the distance, through an invisible fluid released during sex. This fluid seeps into the ground and stretches infinitely, like a spider web. Each snail would forever sense what happens to the other.
Proving how we are connected to one another is a complicated business, because we know so little about our unconscious mind. Yet we often feel connected: to others, to places, to things, even to artworks.
This sculpture is a kind of stepping stone toward a new interest in this subject.
I would like to thank all the people who made my time at Saint-Béat so lovely !
When everything feels perfect, where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re surrounded by, that’s how I felt :) connectionzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZ
Thank you,
🐌@nurcarrerasescultura for your guidance and feeding us with your cuteness !
🐌@williemorlon for being the sun you are, radiating warm and bright energy
🐌@tom_jablin for being my backbone and saving me from Lyme disease
🐌@victordelestre for the pajama parties, shared dream stories, and moral support <3
and 🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌
Aleksandar, Frank, Karel, Andrea, Thibault, Gloria, and all who passed by and checked in, wondering if I’d have time to carve the snails. Hahaha!
Thank you @festivalmarbreetarts for having me!
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a sculpture using marble from Saint-Béat-lez during a residency in Saint-Béat, in the French Pyrenees.
The female torso and baby hand on the back are copies of an existing sculpture at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Where the original was damaged, I added snails.
The work is inspired by the theory of 19th Century French pseudoscientist Jules Allix, who claimed that once two snails mate, they remain eternally connected, no matter the distance, through an invisible fluid released during sex. This fluid seeps into the ground and stretches infinitely, like a spider web. Each snail would forever sense what happens to the other.
Proving how we are connected to one another is a complicated business, because we know so little about our unconscious mind. Yet we often feel connected: to others, to places, to things, even to artworks.
This sculpture is a kind of stepping stone toward a new interest in this subject.
I would like to thank all the people who made my time at Saint-Béat so lovely !
When everything feels perfect, where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re surrounded by, that’s how I felt :) connectionzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZ
Thank you,
🐌@nurcarrerasescultura for your guidance and feeding us with your cuteness !
🐌@williemorlon for being the sun you are, radiating warm and bright energy
🐌@tom_jablin for being my backbone and saving me from Lyme disease
🐌@victordelestre for the pajama parties, shared dream stories, and moral support <3
and 🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌
Aleksandar, Frank, Karel, Andrea, Thibault, Gloria, and all who passed by and checked in, wondering if I’d have time to carve the snails. Hahaha!
Thank you @festivalmarbreetarts for having me!
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a sculpture using marble from Saint-Béat-lez during a residency in Saint-Béat, in the French Pyrenees.
The female torso and baby hand on the back are copies of an existing sculpture at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Where the original was damaged, I added snails.
The work is inspired by the theory of 19th Century French pseudoscientist Jules Allix, who claimed that once two snails mate, they remain eternally connected, no matter the distance, through an invisible fluid released during sex. This fluid seeps into the ground and stretches infinitely, like a spider web. Each snail would forever sense what happens to the other.
Proving how we are connected to one another is a complicated business, because we know so little about our unconscious mind. Yet we often feel connected: to others, to places, to things, even to artworks.
This sculpture is a kind of stepping stone toward a new interest in this subject.
I would like to thank all the people who made my time at Saint-Béat so lovely !
When everything feels perfect, where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re surrounded by, that’s how I felt :) connectionzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZ
Thank you,
🐌@nurcarrerasescultura for your guidance and feeding us with your cuteness !
🐌@williemorlon for being the sun you are, radiating warm and bright energy
🐌@tom_jablin for being my backbone and saving me from Lyme disease
🐌@victordelestre for the pajama parties, shared dream stories, and moral support <3
and 🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌
Aleksandar, Frank, Karel, Andrea, Thibault, Gloria, and all who passed by and checked in, wondering if I’d have time to carve the snails. Hahaha!
Thank you @festivalmarbreetarts for having me!
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a sculpture using marble from Saint-Béat-lez during a residency in Saint-Béat, in the French Pyrenees.
The female torso and baby hand on the back are copies of an existing sculpture at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Where the original was damaged, I added snails.
The work is inspired by the theory of 19th Century French pseudoscientist Jules Allix, who claimed that once two snails mate, they remain eternally connected, no matter the distance, through an invisible fluid released during sex. This fluid seeps into the ground and stretches infinitely, like a spider web. Each snail would forever sense what happens to the other.
Proving how we are connected to one another is a complicated business, because we know so little about our unconscious mind. Yet we often feel connected: to others, to places, to things, even to artworks.
This sculpture is a kind of stepping stone toward a new interest in this subject.
I would like to thank all the people who made my time at Saint-Béat so lovely !
When everything feels perfect, where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re surrounded by, that’s how I felt :) connectionzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZ
Thank you,
🐌@nurcarrerasescultura for your guidance and feeding us with your cuteness !
🐌@williemorlon for being the sun you are, radiating warm and bright energy
🐌@tom_jablin for being my backbone and saving me from Lyme disease
🐌@victordelestre for the pajama parties, shared dream stories, and moral support <3
and 🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌
Aleksandar, Frank, Karel, Andrea, Thibault, Gloria, and all who passed by and checked in, wondering if I’d have time to carve the snails. Hahaha!
Thank you @festivalmarbreetarts for having me!
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a sculpture using marble from Saint-Béat-lez during a residency in Saint-Béat, in the French Pyrenees.
The female torso and baby hand on the back are copies of an existing sculpture at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Where the original was damaged, I added snails.
The work is inspired by the theory of 19th Century French pseudoscientist Jules Allix, who claimed that once two snails mate, they remain eternally connected, no matter the distance, through an invisible fluid released during sex. This fluid seeps into the ground and stretches infinitely, like a spider web. Each snail would forever sense what happens to the other.
Proving how we are connected to one another is a complicated business, because we know so little about our unconscious mind. Yet we often feel connected: to others, to places, to things, even to artworks.
This sculpture is a kind of stepping stone toward a new interest in this subject.
I would like to thank all the people who made my time at Saint-Béat so lovely !
When everything feels perfect, where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re surrounded by, that’s how I felt :) connectionzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZ
Thank you,
🐌@nurcarrerasescultura for your guidance and feeding us with your cuteness !
🐌@williemorlon for being the sun you are, radiating warm and bright energy
🐌@tom_jablin for being my backbone and saving me from Lyme disease
🐌@victordelestre for the pajama parties, shared dream stories, and moral support <3
and 🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌
Aleksandar, Frank, Karel, Andrea, Thibault, Gloria, and all who passed by and checked in, wondering if I’d have time to carve the snails. Hahaha!
Thank you @festivalmarbreetarts for having me!
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a sculpture using marble from Saint-Béat-lez during a residency in Saint-Béat, in the French Pyrenees.
The female torso and baby hand on the back are copies of an existing sculpture at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Where the original was damaged, I added snails.
The work is inspired by the theory of 19th Century French pseudoscientist Jules Allix, who claimed that once two snails mate, they remain eternally connected, no matter the distance, through an invisible fluid released during sex. This fluid seeps into the ground and stretches infinitely, like a spider web. Each snail would forever sense what happens to the other.
Proving how we are connected to one another is a complicated business, because we know so little about our unconscious mind. Yet we often feel connected: to others, to places, to things, even to artworks.
This sculpture is a kind of stepping stone toward a new interest in this subject.
I would like to thank all the people who made my time at Saint-Béat so lovely !
When everything feels perfect, where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re surrounded by, that’s how I felt :) connectionzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZ
Thank you,
🐌@nurcarrerasescultura for your guidance and feeding us with your cuteness !
🐌@williemorlon for being the sun you are, radiating warm and bright energy
🐌@tom_jablin for being my backbone and saving me from Lyme disease
🐌@victordelestre for the pajama parties, shared dream stories, and moral support <3
and 🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌
Aleksandar, Frank, Karel, Andrea, Thibault, Gloria, and all who passed by and checked in, wondering if I’d have time to carve the snails. Hahaha!
Thank you @festivalmarbreetarts for having me!
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a sculpture using marble from Saint-Béat-lez during a residency in Saint-Béat, in the French Pyrenees.
The female torso and baby hand on the back are copies of an existing sculpture at the Louvre Museum in Paris. Where the original was damaged, I added snails.
The work is inspired by the theory of 19th Century French pseudoscientist Jules Allix, who claimed that once two snails mate, they remain eternally connected, no matter the distance, through an invisible fluid released during sex. This fluid seeps into the ground and stretches infinitely, like a spider web. Each snail would forever sense what happens to the other.
Proving how we are connected to one another is a complicated business, because we know so little about our unconscious mind. Yet we often feel connected: to others, to places, to things, even to artworks.
This sculpture is a kind of stepping stone toward a new interest in this subject.
I would like to thank all the people who made my time at Saint-Béat so lovely !
When everything feels perfect, where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re surrounded by, that’s how I felt :) connectionzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZ
Thank you,
🐌@nurcarrerasescultura for your guidance and feeding us with your cuteness !
🐌@williemorlon for being the sun you are, radiating warm and bright energy
🐌@tom_jablin for being my backbone and saving me from Lyme disease
🐌@victordelestre for the pajama parties, shared dream stories, and moral support <3
and 🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌🐌
Aleksandar, Frank, Karel, Andrea, Thibault, Gloria, and all who passed by and checked in, wondering if I’d have time to carve the snails. Hahaha!
Thank you @festivalmarbreetarts for having me!
Story Save - Best free tool for saving Stories, Reels, Photos, Videos, Highlights, IGTV to your phone.
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