TO DARE OR NOT TO DARE

“To dare is to lose one's footing momentarily. Not to dare is to lose oneself.” Soren Kierkegaard

During our first Yangpyeong one-month stay last spring, we serendipitously ran into an artist who was holding her exhibit at our favorite Kwak Jiwon Bakery’s art space. My first meeting with her made such a warm impression that it found its way into a portion of my journal freshly that day (see below). Just as providentially, we ran into her again yesterday. Another chance meeting. . . Kyunghwa Lee, a chef, was holding yet another art exhibit but this time it featured her own “art book” she worked on during the last 3 months every week with a group of novice and seasoned artists. Chef Lee had invited us to come and see the exhibit. We told her we would be happy to.

After picking up a guest from a train station nearby who was going to stay overnight with us, we swung by Kwak Jiwon bakery to pick up our preordered baguette for today’s breakfast. Our guest did not know we were going to spend some time visiting the exhibit at the bakery. The exhibit featured not only Kyunghwa Lee’s work but also a dozen others in the group. The art book consisted of each of their “life diary” expressed in writing, poetry, photos, and small art pieces, all bound up in an imperfect but exquisitely intimate handmade book. I felt like someone was going to slap my hand for flipping through their personal diaries. What surprised me was how honest and vulnerable each of the entries was.

After spending a good hour, someone who was sitting down saw me walking from one room to another and bowed with a faint smile. Trying to be courteous, I also bowed not knowing who she was. She bowed again to my wife who was trailing me. She said, “An-nyeong haseyo” (hello) to my wife and followed with “Do you remember me?” My wife quickly brightened up and said, “Oh, an-nyeong haseyo!” I then realized it was the artist we met a year ago. We exchanged cordial pleasantries initially but eventually, we found our chairs and held deep spiritual conversations surrounding her art which is coterminous with her life. I profusely apologized to her that I did not recognize her. While it is true that she was wearing a knitted purple hat this time and dressed in less formal wear than last time, I should have recognized her. Just as quickly, we segued our conversation into art making. She has experienced the artist’s pain and disappointment while trying to earn her living. She also has taken in a few students over the years. Her philosophy lingered with me. She said she would take in a disciple or two for a year at a time not to teach them her style of art making much less her art techniques. Rather she would train them in such ways that they would discover their own styles.

Our guest who was carefully listening to her the whole time showed increasing interest and connection with the artist. The guest shared her own journey of wanting to embrace her artist’s way. She has been lacking courage since she had not studied art in college or had not spent an inordinate amount of money and time studying art abroad. The guest and the artist eventually exchanged their phone numbers. Our guest later told us that she had been searching for “signs” of whether to continue to pursue her dream of being an artist or not. This encounter turned out to be a “God moment” that she would not give up.

On another thread of our conversation, she asked me what I was up to. I shared with her that my book had just come out being less sure with what kind of vibe I should say about the book. With a curious look on her face, she asked what my book was about, and I said it is about being pilgrims in this life. She nodded, took note, and told me she would like to buy and read. I smiled in return. Chef Lee then chimed in and said, “We will hold a small book concert with author Chong Kim as our guest speaker.” The artist and another student who was listening closely both said, “We would like to be there.”

I too am on a journey I have not passed before. I have lost my footing multiple times to know that while those moments may be painful with blue-colored swollen ankles, the hurting simply does not compare with potentially losing myself and not being true to who I am and who I am becoming. This grand six-month-long Asia swing is a great dare for me. We are making plans to do another round of six-month trip next year. I am at a point where I would rather try and fail than fail to try. I have been a fan of Brené Brown for quite some time and read multiple of her books. In her book, Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead, she pens it this way, “To love ourselves and support each other in the process of becoming real is perhaps the greatest single act of daring greatly.” I cannot fail to be me. There is too much at stake. Daring is not synonymous with gritting our teeth and plowing forward with a “faith-filled” adventuresome spirit, instead daring embraces vulnerability like a friend. Genuine faith is a friend to vulnerability. Brown lauds vulnerability this way, “Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren't always comfortable, but they're never weakness.”

May 9, 2022

Today’s story began unfolding at Kwak Jiwon Bakery as we had a rare day of rest and catch-up. We decided to venture out for a quick bite of lunch and then we went over to the bakery. At the bakery, we were informed that a new art exhibit opened today. On top of that, the artist was going to come in person and interact with people. I intuitively knew this was a God-given opportunity.

Eun Kyung Lee is a modern artist. As a trained school teacher, she taught for many years until about 9 years ago. At such time, she listened to her inner desire deep enough to pursue her dream of being an artist. Being a teacher in Korea is a secure and envious job considered by many. Yet, in her own words, she had to pursue and go all in even if she were to fail and fail miserably. It would be a happy ending if I were to say she has made it. While she tasted initial celebrity-like status, she herself knows that she has not arrived, and I frankly don’t think she even cares she has made it. She knows this is a process being unfolded and that she is paving her own path that she has not traveled before. I know this journey of inner discovery requires a herculean effort and courage to switch in midlife. We told her to be encouraged and she got teary-eyed.

As a craft painter (she coined the term herself), she is attracted to organic and inorganic discards and wastes and incorporates them into her art. Most of her craft paintings are understandably three-dimensional and they often portray the existential matter of one’s being. Her vision has been to use the discards and rejects to rebirth them into a newborn story. She does this because as a teacher she was always attracted to troubled and isolated kids. Though her career went through a transition, her heart for the neglected and underappreciated remained the same.

She asked us what we do and why we were in Yangpyeong. We told her that we are missionaries interested in developing people and that we were “running” a healing stay. We talked about our spirituality and told her that we resonated with what we see in her story and art. She nodded in agreement about our spirituality as she went on the explain the background of one piece she created (see above). The painting features a three-dimensional fallen black bamboo branch with a few leaves she picked up in Kangwon Province which sits in the easternmost part of Korea. She turned the bamboo branch into an imaginary pen of her heart which it wrote, “love” (picture above). I would say she was neither religious nor unreligious, but it did not matter to me. She said afterward, “Love is the common language of our heart.” Whether knowingly or unknowingly, she is proclaiming the existential message of love to all who see her craft painting. I was glad to have bumped into her and was blessed to see the painting.