MY STORY


Who am I? 
  
  My name is Hyun woo Park and I was born in Seoul, Korea, 1986. I can't remember much about my childhood in Korea because I stayed there only until I was 2 years old. My family immigrated to Hong Kong around 1989, and I pretty much spent most of my life growing up in Hong Kong, at least until I graduated from high school. I spent 5 years in Chicago studying art and working various jobs, but eventually I had to come back to Hong Kong due to not being able to find stability in Chicago. I was an English tutor for about two years until I decided to move to Korea to search for a job that was more related to the field of art. I wasn't able to find much success so I had to settle with being an English teacher at an English language institution. My time in Korea was probably the most stable part of my young adult life, because I was able to gain more independence and develop a sense of identity. 

  I have been interested in the arts ever since I was a child, and I spent many hours drawing ninjas, tanks and robots. I grew up watching American and Japanese animated shows, and I was intrigued by comic books from various cultures. I was a 90's kid, so much of my influences from the media had been from that period. I wasn't very good at school, even in the arts, so my grades were always on the lower side of the spectrum. I was also a shy kid, so I spent a lot of time alone in my room. This was probably why I was more introverted, and spent more time in front of a blank sheet of paper or electronic devices. 

  I wasn't too interested in fine arts until I was introduced to a teacher outside of school. She was more traditional and academic with her method of teaching. I must admit, it was very dry and technical, but I would not be who I am today without her help. Her husband was also a well known contemporary artist in Hong Kong, and his level of energy and freedom opened my mind into the world of fine arts. 

  I went to art school thinking that I was going to become an animator after graduation, but that never happened. I must admit that during my time in college I was a stubborn kid, and I was so focused on trying to become a traditional hand drawing animator, but I was not thinking ahead. The industry was already developing into a digital environment, but I was too daft to adapt to the changes. Still, I was lucky to be in the school that I attended because I was able to meet some great friends and teachers, and they had influenced me to look beyond my limited perception. They opened my eyes to the world of contemporary fine arts that was beyond technique, and they helped me look beyond into the horizon where I have been fighting to find myself through the arts. 

  Besides art, I am interested in basketball, animated shows, comic book art, video games and Youtube. I don't watch as many animated shows as I used to, and I don't read many comics or play many video games anymore. Much of my influences and interest in art had developed from visual media, and I always find myself relating to it. Basketball is a way for me to keep fit, and it is my way of socializing with people. If I did not have basketball in my life, I would be stuck in a room all day. 


Family

  We are a family of four. Father, mother, younger brother and I. My father was born in Pyeongtaek, a city in the Gyeonggido province of South Korea. He spent most of his youth in Seoul, and graduated from university around 1983 and then started working at a trading company called Kohap. My mom was born in the Sadang district of Seoul, and straight after high school she started working at a trading company in Myeongdong. My parents met each other around 1986 and then they got married. In 1989 my father was sent to Hong Kong as an expat, and then my mom and I followed suit around the same time. My brother was born in 1991 in Hong Kong. We have been a family of four since then, and my brother and I have lived most of our lives in Hong Kong. 


Growing up in Hong Kong: Language

  I don't have many memories of my childhood in Korea because I moved to Hong Kong when I was around 3 years old. How I perceived culture and people was all developed through Hong Kong. It was an interesting period for me as a child, because as a child I had no sense culture, so what I saw was what I accepted. I was a black haired Asian kid and everyone else around me was also black haired Asian people, so I simply thought I was also a black haired Asian Hong Kong person. It was a confusing period for me because in terms of language my parents were speaking to me in Korean, but once I left the house to play I was hearing Cantonese. If I wanted to socialize and play with these kids I had to adapt and learn Cantonese, so within a span of a year or so I was able to listen and speak basic Cantonese. Unfortunately I still can't read nor write Chinese because I never got any formal training in that language. I still regret about missing out on learning a new language, and I hope to one day invest more time on it.

  I spent a lot of time at home so I was very attached to the television. Back then in Hong Kong we had like 4 basic channels. TVB and ATV, and both had English and Cantonese channels.  My eyes were stuck on the television, and whenever there was any kind of animated show I was all in. There was also a show that was similar to Sesame Street, except it was a Cantonese version of it called "Seem Deem Chuun JJan GGei" (閃電傳真機). I was really into these kind of shows where there were costumed characters, dances, educational skits  and songs. During my childhood I believe a lot of my influences came from these mediums. 


閃電傳真機




  I believe Korean was my first language because my parents always spoke to me in Korean, and they read me books in Korean, and most of the media that they introduced me to were Korean. (Back then we had a Korean import store, and we were able to rent VHS tapes that had illegal recordings of Korean TV shows.) This was how I was able to keep in touch with Korean culture, and also connect with my parents. Cantonese was probably my second language in terms of order, and then English. English is now my official first language because of my educational background in terms of experience and time. My reading and writing skills with Korean is quite poor, and I can't even read or write Chinese. Thank god that I can at least speak some Cantonese.

Growing up in Hong Kong: Video Rental Stores

  Back then we didn't have the internet so most of our entertainment was accessed through the television. Information was not as wide spread so we were stuck with what we knew, but it was interesting even with these limitations because we knew everyone who lived in Hong Kong watched the same thing, or at least were familiar with it. I remember when one day 2 or 3 extra channels were added to our TV broadcast, and through it we were able to watch more imported, popular American shows that were trending during that period. I think it was also a period when cable TV was starting to gain popularity. My family never had cable TV but I remember wanting it, and then I remember trying to convince my parents to apply for it. I was mainly interested in it for the cartoons. Cable TV back then was like the equivalent of Netflix today.

  Before cable TV, there were video rental stores where you could rent VHS tapes and Laserdiscs. I was too young to understand the technology, but I knew that when you popped that shit into the machine you could watch cartoons! 


  I remember going to the rental stores just to see the cover art. (As a kid with no money, the best thing to do was to go to your favorite stores and do window shopping.) The cover art for laser discs was the best because they were larger than your usual formats. They were at least the size of a large calendar, so the large visuals and bright colors were very attractive. I remember specifically being attached to the Japanese imports because of the cartoons! (back then I didn't even know the term anime.) I was also really interested in the horror movie covers because they were so creepy. As a kid, just looking at the covers and imagining what the movie would be about was entertainment itself. 







Growing up in Hong Kong: Magazine Stalls

  ( I wanted to keep this section as a part of the entertainment chapter, but I felt that it would be better as a separate chapter.)

  Back in the early to mid 90's we would have magazine stalls in the malls. I don't know what their official titles are, but I remember fondly of their presence, and how frequently I would visit these stores. I suppose it could be called a stationary store or an all in one store because they literally sold everything. Their main merchandise were their magazines, books and news papers, but they would also sell cigarettes, drinks and candy. In front of the stall they would decorate it with cheap looking, but colorful toys, and little vending machines where you could pop in a coin and get a small toy, or trading cards (This devilish store must have fished away many children's, and parents moneys) . 


  As a primary student, whenever my mom gave me some pocket money to spend, I would go straight to the mall. I remember I would get round 20 Hong Kong Dollars (HKD) which would be the equivalent of around 2 US dollars, and as a kid 20 HKD's was a lot of money. I remember gleefully walking to the mall strategizing on how I could maximize my allowance, and of course the first place to go to spend my valuable allowance was the magazine stall. The toy and card vending machine was where the local neighborhood boys would be crowding around, looking over the shoulder of the next participants actions of monetary sacrifice, but also hoping to see the discovery of a rare shiny item! It was like watching a public performance. The more serious toy collectors would pull out their plastic toy collections that were divinely protected by a plastic Ziploc bag, and the more serious card collectors would pull out their hard case card collection files. Like the narcissistic peacocks that they were, their vanity and pride would wow all of the boys, and like the stupid boys that we were our eyes would glow in awe and envy! "Wow! He's got a rare shiny card! How I want it" We would think to ourselves... I would take my turn at the machines, and the machine would poop out some garbage. I would turn my head to see may audiences reactions, but they would already be gone. I believe a cheap quality card was 1 HKD, and for the better quality expensive rare cards 2 HKD. The toys (Gatchapon) were around 5 HKD, and they came out in little plastic balls which were the containers. These were all random, so you never knew what you would get. I would always spend 5 HKD's in this store knowing that I would need the rest of the cash to maximize my mall crawl routine. The choices were 5 cheap cards (1 HKD each card), 1 cheap plus 2  expensive cards, 3 cheap plus 1 expensive card, or a toy. (Basically strategizing on how to maximize 5 HKD when shopping.) Sometimes I would risk spending a little more, but I was not much of a gambler so I played it safe. If the earnings were not great I just lived with it. The remaining 15 HKD's would be strategically spent on food, candy and fizzy drinks while I would slowly browse multiple stores of my interest which were mainly toys and videos. This whole excursion would last around an hour of so, and then off to the playground I would go until the sun would set. The orange sunset was the signal to go home.    
   


Growing up in Hong Kong: Dragon Ball

   I was really into Dragon Ball during the 90's because it was such a big thing back then, and many of my influences, interests and habits were developed around this medium. I had no idea how the entertainment market worked back then, nor did I know anything about merchandising. I didn't have much access to the show so much of the lore of Dragon Ball was developed in my own mind back then. Whatever visual that I was shown, either through the trading cards, toys, posters, or video game box art, I took the visuals to heart, and created my own little world of Dragon Ball. The older kids seemed to have more exposure to the various mediums such as comics and cartoons, which I was completely oblivious to, so whenever the older kids would start talking about Dragon Ball, us younger kids would gather around them like as if we were gathering around a wise, veteran story teller, listening to their wisdom on the true narrative behind Dragon Ball. 

  Eventually I would get my own exposure of the medium through the Korean version of the comic book/manga's, video games, and also through the cinematic releases that were released on Laserdisc or VHS. Eventually, as I grew up I had more exposure to the franchise and the story telling mediums, and I had the chance to finish off the story.

  Dragon Ball had been a highlight of my childhood, and it was a highlight for many people from my generation. Even to this day Dragon Ball is a cultural icon that is still producing merchandise, and it is still relevant in many discussions. The end product was probably for profit, but for many young children back when the product was fresh, it was a great way to find a connection between people, and make friends. 

  


  


  At this point in my life, I was reaching the end of primary school, and I was on the verge of graduating and then moving onto middle school. Of course, Dragon Ball wasn't the only form of art that I was exposed to, but it was the first time I was introduced to the business cycle of the Japanese entertainment industry. This was the time when I realized that when a certain media product became popular enough, there would be animated TV shows, merchandised products, video games, and these were all somewhat expected from the fans of the industry. My collection of knowledge through the exposure of this graphic art industry now far surpasses just Dragon Ball, but it was a starting point for me to admire and criticize art with more knowledge and technique. It allowed me to emulate an art form, but it had also allowed me to study various techniques and the language of this particular visual medium. 

  It had also allowed me to look back at how I had absorbed the medium of television entertainment as a child, and how I would interact with these products in my mind, and sometimes as physical objects. It allowed me to explore multiple senses, but at the same time it allowed me to gain knowledge on story structures, colors, lines, music, mood, personalities and so much more. I chose Dragon Ball as a highlight, but there were many more media articles that I would like to bring up in the future.

Growing up in Hong Kong: Robots
  
   I may have put a lot of emphasis on Dragon Ball and its influences, but my first love was robots. I remember being told by my fathers friends that my father was like Santa Clause. Whenever he would go out on a business trip he would come back with a present. The present would almost certainly be a robot. I was told that as a kid I would have wild tantrums about not being able to buy a robot toy as it was too expensive, and a kind spanking was followed through with afterwards. As a spoiled brat I had already tasted the intoxicating beauty of the robot; a mechanical humanoid which was comparable in strength to that of legendary heroes of folklore. I was especially fond of the Japanese variety of robot toys which were like engineering spectacles. There were varieties that could transform into vehicles, animals, fast food. There were varieties that were a collection of subjects that could morph into one gigantic tower. There were those that were not able to transform, but had limbs that were as nimble as acrobats. 










  A large majority of these robot toys were promoted by cartoons. As a kid I had no idea what these mega toy corporations were scheming, but they certainly squeezed my parents wallets dry. Looking back now, many of the shows were not the best in terms of narrative quality, and their main motive were to sell toys. They did a good job of it too, because it seems like that business model still works today. Unfortunately the hey days of robot related cartoons had died down, and many of it remains as relics of the past, as nostalgic relics of the past. However there was one franchise that had been around before I was born and it is still going strong to this day. That franchise is called Gundam, and it is most probably the most popular robot related material to this day.



   Along side Dragon Ball, Gundam was a franchise that I followed by heart. As a kid I wasn't too knowledgeable in the series, so I could only make up my own lore with the limited amount of exposure that I had. As a kid my eyes darted around all kinds of things, but toys were something that especially caught my attention. I was a bit older when I started to recognize Gundam's, so my impulses on wanting to own one were very strong. Gundam's were known for their plastic do it yourself (DIY) model kits, which you had to piece together, and as a kid these plastic model kits were like complicated puzzles. Even when you finished building the model kit, they were not very durable, so during play sessions the plastic models would fall apart. This complication made the Gundam's feel like they were meant for the big boys. The themes of Gundam were hard to grasp, and they are still somewhat complicated even to this day, but when it comes to merchandising, the Gundam franchise was on point. Like the Dragon Ball franchise, they had almost everything with a Gundam theme on it; whether it be toys, household appliances, shoes, cars, life sized models. Gundam's were like a bridge for robot fanatic boys like me to cross, and through the crossing of the bridge you would be baptizing yourself in to the advancement of a mature world of robots and mechanical themed products.







Moving to Korea




   One day, I was going through my routine life in Hong Kong, going to grad school, and teaching students English part time as an English tutor. I had decided to quit everything and head to Korea in order to pursue my career and childhood dream, animation.

   I had a few family members that I could contact in Korea but the one family member that I could really rely on was my grandmother, of my fathers side. I had called her and asked her for her permission if I could stay at her place indefinitely, under the condition that I would find a job and help her out with the house work. She gave me the okay, but it was not a very convincing okay, and I could totally understand that what I was asking for was a big favor.


Adjustment Period 1: First Job




   Once I had reached Korea I thought things would work out for the best, but just like how life likes it, it slapped me in my face and brought me back down to reality. My first month spent in Korea could be considered a waste of time. I didn't do anything useful, and without any strong contacts or network of friends I felt pretty lost, and at times lonely. My grandma and I were not great in terms of relationship either, and we both had very different perspectives on life. At my grandmas house I felt like a burden to her than anything else. My Korean was not bad, but as an unpracticed language it was difficult grasping the technical nuances and popular terms that my peers were using, so I had difficulty communicating with people to a certain degree. This made it pretty difficult making connections, but to add an extra layer of plight I was not a very outgoing person either and spent a lot of time indoors, leaving me vulnerable to my already negative mindset. (In hind sight, even if I did grow up in Korea, I would have been the same kind of person none the less. My introverted personality would have been the same anyways so maybe language was never the issue. I was just a poor communicator. 😅)

   I wanted to flip the switch and make some changes in my current life, and I believed the only possible way was to find that animation job. I spent a lot of time on the internet looking for local animation studios that were focused on hand drawn animation. (my specialty was hand drawn animation back in school.) This was not an easy task as the whole industry had been converting into computer animation, and much of the industry wanted someone that was versatile with digital techniques. I had almost none of those and to add insult to injury most of these companies were Korean based and I was lacking the language requirements to work efficiently alongside them. I was calling around various companies and out of pure luck one company was interested in me. They were not looking for much from me and they were just curious to know why I wanted to work for them. I was asked for an interview and soon enough I was heading out to their office for an interview.

   When I visited their office for the interview the lady who was interviewing me started off with the question if this was truly what I had been wanting to do, and that she had a position where they could use an English speaker to communicate with their overseas offices. At that point in my life I was not very savvy in terms of finances and I only wanted to live out my dreams so my response was to reject the better job offer for a lesser one. I did not want anything else except for this opportunity to be the start of my career and inside my mind I was already feeling very excited and jittery, just like that feeling when you can feel the air warming and the cold weather taking a step back signaling the start of spring. There was a scent in the grayish business room that seemed to lighten things up but interestingly the lady asked me AGAIN if this was really what I had wanted to do, and my response this time was much more immediate and confident. Yes! Looking back at it now I guess the lady was looking out for me, but I was truly too stubborn to read between the lines. 

   In about a weeks time I was commuting to this large commercial building alongside suit garbed people with my head held high in anticipation of the work to come. I had already briefly been orientated to the various work stations but there was only one destination for me and it was the drawing department, where key frames and in-betweens were being churned out at a daily basis. The company's main work involved family guy so I had a sense of pride, a title that I could drop in between a conversation, to prove myself as someone that was worthy enough to be working for a company with an established product. I was so hyped up for work that I was willing to do anything for the drawing assistants, key frame animators and director.

(Complaining and ranting alert.)

   About a week later I had quit... Yes, after all that excitement and effort that lasted about a microsecond had ceased to a halt, so abruptly that my brain was unable to organize itself over the outcome of events. During my first day of work I was drilled on how tough the work was and that I would be required to work my ass off before they can start utilizing me properly. I was not phased by the prep talk and I was pretty much expecting the industry to be tough, but once they started talking about the official pay rate and work hours I was starting to falter. Apparently the first month of work was going to go largely unpaid and the only pay that they were going to afford to offer was around 20000KRW (15USD), basically they were going to pay for the first month of commuting costs only. After the one month period they were going to start giving the official pay, and their pay rates were given per drawing under the condition that the drawing that you had produced was acceptable. If your drawings were unacceptable then there was a chance that your whole days worth of work could go unpaid. Basically you had to be very precise with your hands and trace each drawing with pin point accuracy, and the quicker you produce quality drawings at a high rate the more you would be paid. (each successful drawing was worth 700KRW = 30~40 cents US) They warned me that the typical rookie went unpaid for two to three month before their drawings start getting accepted for pay, so there was a chance that you would go almost unpaid for a long period of time. (one of the assistants working there had told me some unlucky people went unpaid for longer periods of time which lead to many people quitting the industry.) This was not the end of the dark cloud gradually expanding over my head.

( For someone who convinced myself that living out the dream was more important than money found myself being a hypocrite, because in the end finances did matter, and dreams were fragile.)

   The director of the department asked how old I was, which was an odd question. At that point in life I was twenty five and after I had told him he went on to say that I was a bit too old to be entering the industry. This was an encouraging start to a discouraging mood. He went on to say that most people who start work in around the Korean animation industry were high school graduates and any kind of education or qualification was not required. As long as you were good with your hands, you were good to go. (This had started to feel like I was about to start work at some kind of sweat shop.) He had mentioned that it took about two years before you got to see 1million KRW (=700~800 USD) per month and it took about five years to see 2million KRW (=1400~1600 UD) per month. This was all considering the fact that the work hours were eleven hour work days, no weekends. Knowing the conditions were piss poor I had still kept myself hopeful believing that in the future, the future me would look back and be proud. 

   About two days into the training regiment I asked plenty of questions about the industry, and boy was I glad that I asked because the answers did not anchor me down into the industry at all.

1) I asked questions about the Korean animation industry and how it's future is faring.
2) I asked questions about the lack of original animations in Korea.
3) I also asked about what he thought about creating your own animations at home, like the
independent stuff you see online.

His answers to the three questions were as follows:

1) The golden age of animation in Korea had passed and currently the hand drawn industry is in recession. The golden age in Korea was back in the late 70s to mid 90s (approximation) and considering that it was the golden age, the Korean industry made its money from doing key frames and in-betweens, and it was never really responsible for much of the story making or creative side of the market.

2) The Korean animation industry lacks investors so there isn't much original animation being produced. No investments means no experimentations or creativity within the industry, leaving much of the industry to stagnate. Eventually when there were investors willing to cooperate the end results are not viable enough for people to continue putting money into the industry. Basically the animation industry in Korea sucks. (At least for the hand drawn industry. The digital industry seems pretty healthy.)

3) He basically said if your are working here, in this animation industry, there is not going to be time to be making personal work. Either you put all your effort into the work that they have for you, or just quit this business and find something else and produce your own stuff on the side.

These were really eye opening answers and they were extremely important in helping me make the next important decision of this chapter of my life, and it was to just quit this industry.

   I had no regrets in quitting this job till this day and I am really thankful to the director for being so transparent because he helped me realize that whatever I had been fantasizing in my mind was not going to happen here, and he hinted that working here will not help me reach my goals. I thanked the director for everything and then I told him that I had decided to quit. He was not surprised and seemed to have pretty much expected the outcome. I went down to the office area where the lady who interviewed me was and I told her that I was quitting as well. The lady was a bit taken back and was wondering what had made me quit so soon. I just told her that this job was not what I had been expecting and decided that the best option for me was to leave. (I mean I sold myself with the dream job talk and she was the one who bought it.) She seemed to share my disappointment because when I first came into the office I had been telling her how this was my dream job, and then here I was telling her that I had decided to turn my back on the industry. We said our good byes and I walked out of the large building complex that I was in. (I honestly wanted to cry. I was devastated to realize that only a week was what it took to break a dream.)

    I was jobless and unemployed, and at the same time I was feeling very miserable and sad. It had felt like I had left something behind, something that I had been nurturing for a while only to realize that we had to part ways.


Adjustment Period 2: Losing to Life


    I had said in the previous chapter that I had no regrets about quitting this job and that still stands true, but the disappointment that I experienced stuck around like glue. Back then, I was pretty devastated because I had to drop everything that I had been working for my entire life within a span of a week. This was a decision I had made because I was not willing to work in an industry that was not promoting any creativity.

   This was the point in life where I picked up a pretty bad drinking habit. You guys may or may not know, but Korea is notorious for it drinking culture, and it's alcohol is ridiculously cheap. Back when I had first come to Korea the asking price for a 350ml bottle of soju (15~20% alcoholic drink)  was 990 won. That's about a dollar for a bottle of alcohol that has an ethanol content of around 17 percent. So basically for a U.S dollar, one could get a bottle of spirit and get drunk off of their ass. I was not an avid drinker before this period but this moment triggered a pretty terrible habit. After one bottle I was feeling pretty jolly and spent most of my time online surfing the internet. This moment would then eventually become a week and then a month, and by the time a month had passed I was blasting through two bottle of hard liqueur at almost a daily basis. I had also conveniently figured out how to use the awesome online food delivery system so my waist line was growing inches by the second and my bank account was getting closer to life support. I must admit, I was feeling very desperate but the condition that I was in was so poor that I was finding difficulty adjusting to what one would consider normal life. At this point I just wanted any job and anything art related just seemed like a far fetched dream.




   By the time my bank account had really hit rock bottom, I was closing in on my grandma's limits too and she wanted to me out unless I was going to get my life straight. There was no point in me going back to Hong Kong, so I really had to buck up and start getting serious. There were no real jobs that I could turn to except for the English teaching industry. This was something that I had really wanted to avoid, but if I wanted to stay in Korea and keep a steady lifestyle I had no choice but to take up a teaching job. I had to bite my pride and soon enough I was editing my resume to suit the teaching industry.

   Surprisingly, the teaching industry was far easier to reach out to when compared to the animation industry, and within a few days I was already heading out for interviews.(This was only possible because of my fluency in English. ) I had visited a few places and some of them were complete letdowns. My only experience as a teacher was an English tutor so without any official prior teaching experience I felt very vulnerable. Every interview that I went to, I felt like a poor lamb about to be sacrificed to the lords of whoever's business infrastructure. But with a fair amount of perseverance I was able to land a humble teaching job. The only downside was that their offices were located pretty far off and the commute took about an hour and half. I had to keep this up for about half a year until they had opened another branch which was far closer to where I lived back then.


Realization 

    After about two years of working at the English academy I started to feel a sense of stability and happiness that I had been missing out on for a while. I had a pretty steady schedule and, I was saving money. I was traveling every so often and I was bringing back art into my life. At this point in my life I couldn't have asked for more, because things seemed to be looking up. I felt good, except for the fact that I was still a bit uncertain about myself and my paper thin opinion about myself was so easily swayed. I had no filter in my mind and eventually all kinds of noise had started to enter my mind, listening to other peoples lives, affecting my own thoughts and opinions.




   As satisfied as I was, voices of those around me kept prodding me with their judgement sticks, pressing their opinions on me, making me reconsider the then state of my mind. They pestered me by asking me rhetorical questions like  "are you really satisfied with this?" or "can this really be considered a career?" They were wondering if I could not find a job that would offer more stability. I mean I can't blame any of them because they really and truly were looking out for me and wanting me to put myself in the best possible situation, and I should frankly be thankful. I have only myself to blame for being so easily pressured by others, but the current me would have politely declined.

   I had decided to quit my current job and moved to a better paid job. I had decided to risk losing my current lifestyle all for the sake of earning more money. I won't lie I like money, but once you start chasing it, it grabs you by your ankles and it eventually moves all the way up onto your body until it blinds you and makes your forget about your true intents and purposes. 

   The new workplace was a big improvement in terms of quality and they were definitely better off financially. The new workplace was closer and the pay was an improvement. Very soon I was able to move out of my grandma's place. I found my own place, which was pretty close to work and it was located in a pretty central area of Seoul. I was feeling rather good because now I was completely independent and I could do whatever the hell I wanted without anyone nagging me. There were some responsibilities like rent and bills that needed to be paid, but even with all of the expenses I had more money to spare than when compared to my previous jobs pay. At this point I felt like things couldn't have been better. I had more money than ever before, and I was now as independent as I had ever wished for. I thought I had made a good decision and I felt like I was climbing up the social ladder. Unfortunately this type of self satisfaction was not something that was lasting.

   At first work was pretty lax so my guard was down and I continued with my work, travel, art lifestyle, but little by little work started to become more intense and eventually things started to get pretty demanding. I had to spend extra time out of work just to keep up with the demand. For me working hard was not an issue but it started to affect me when I had to sacrifice time outside of work. When work was starting to eat away at my private, and personal time it started to etch away at my very being. I had no time to be creative and traveling was no longer a luxury that I could afford because I just could not make the time for it. The pay was still great but my level of satisfaction was not at all acceptable and my decision to work for more pay had started to make me question my reasoning behind this situation.

   I had started picking up my nasty habit of excessive drinking again and within half a year of my new job I had gained 15 Kilograms of weight. I felt like I was chained down to my job and everything else was secondary. My life was starting to become my work. It wasn't work that I enjoyed and I felt no sense of development or accomplishment. I kept grinding for a year until my boss called me over for a private discussion. By the time the discussion was over I was jobless again. The funny thing was, I had bought a new bike just the day before I was fired. The bike was supposed to symbolize my new years resolution where I was going to bike to work so I could lose weight and keep fit. Unfortunately that plan only lasted for a day. (-_-)





Trying New Things 

   I was actually quite happy with being jobless this time because the year spend working at my second English teaching job had burnt me out, and my only motivation for staying would have been the money. I had thoughts if quitting through and through but I was just so engulfed in the idea of saving up the cash for future plans. Fortunately, my boss made the situation easier by just releasing me. There was a little bit of bitterness though because I did work hard while I was there and I truly dedicated myself towards their bidding's.

   This time, rather than feeling helpless and confused, I was feeling a sense of freedom and release. I felt tired of working for an institution and I wanted to make something of myself. I may have been feeling less pressured because I had a pretty healthy amount of money saved up, so I wasn't going to struggle with paying off rent and bills. I had about half a year remaining on my housing contract so I wanted to spend that time efficiently. I wanted to start my own art business and I wanted to start investing by using the savings I had gathered.

   Oh how senseless I was about this idea. Back then the romantic ideals of throwing everything out the window, and setting sail on the vast and open ocean, inexperienced, was such a foolish Idea. I thought I might as well go all or nothing, because I would rather fail knowing that I had tried rather than never knowing what it could have been. Taking this path felt like I was wielding a double edged light saber (I chose a light saber because it felt more dangerous). Going all out made me feel good about my self, and the sense of accomplishment helped me gain confidence, but my resources were finite and I only had half a year to really put myself on a map. If I had succeeded then bravo for me, but if I had failed then I would have to go back to my grandma's.



   With all that was said and done, I had a vague sense that plan. I knew I was going to fail and I pretty much devised a plan knowingly that plan A would fail. Plan B was the safety and it would be the parachute I would need before jumping off of a plane.

   At first I had no idea where to start, so the first place that I turned to was the internet. I read a bunch of articles and eventually I was able to get a very basic wire frame of an idea on what I should do. The most important fact was that I had to produce art. I had grand plans about pieces that I was going to produce in the near future which included illustrations, series, paintings, drawings and much, much more. I was certainly eager but ambitions cannot be achieved unless they are actually realized. I was certainly guilty of pouring more ambition than I could handle because I was NOT making good use of my time.

   I thought thinking about art was one of my most favorite things to do, and I thought I could do it all day, no problem, but boy was I wrong. Without the correct mindset and willingness to work hard, nothing came easy. There were days where I spent all day procrastinating, napping, and downright just wasting time. My drinking habit did not ease up and many nights were spent in a drunken stupor, waking up with my body contorted in the most disturbing ways, my chair toppled over, and the afternoon sun glaring through the windows with the morning already passed. I had no strict discipline or a clear cut schedule. So many days were spent inefficiently. The fact that I had a bit of money to rest on, it kept me from being desperate and hungry, and my unplanned days seemed to be taking my art nowhere. That sense of misdirection made it difficult to stay focused.


   I had been jobless since February of that year and when it got to about April/May I had realized that my savings were draining faster than I had expected, and in order to stop the bleeding I had no choice but to find at least a part time job. I had gotten in contact with my boss from my old language school and she was kind enough to grant me a part time position. The part time job kept me afloat and the bleeding at a minimum. I had space to to breath and the job gave me a sense of schedule and responsibility that made my time feel more precious.

   I was able to be a bit more productive and eventually I produced a fair amount of work that I could print and sell. I had invested in making a website which was eventually a waste of time, money and effort. (Looking back at it now I could have just kept using my blog because it costed so much just to get a website up and running, with the results being barely acceptable. Plus, any extra pages or additions required extra payment and it was not cheap.) A venue that did help me out with some sales experience was the Freemarket loacted in Hong Dae, above the Han river on the northwestern area of seoul. It was great meeting fellow artist and clients, and the general experience of displaying, presenting and selling art was an irreplaceable experience. The only downside was that almost everyone that was attending were there to sell products, so there was a strong sense of graphic design and merchandising. I loved what they were doing, but it wasn't the best place to display live art. Overall, this kind of experience is something that I would like to recommend to many aspiring artists.


   I kept this part time job/art creating schedule until my housing contract had ended. I wasn't able to start my own business as I had been hoping for, but I was able to get a start on something that was starting to extend beyond something that was just a hobby. Within a day or so I had finished packing and boxing most my my things and very soon I was heading back to my grandma's place.

   In hindsight what I learned from this experience was that it was something that was worth having. I wasted a lot of money and time but all of it was well worth investing. If I hadn't done any of this I would probably have known nothing and learned nothing. Another lesson that I picked up on was that self discipline is extremely difficult, and unless you're extremely determined it is unbelievably challenging. Making efficient use of your time when you don't have a steady schedule is very demanding. This is where I applaud those out there who are completely disciplined because those people are at another level.


Realization 2

  After returning to my grandma's place I had started working part time at my old English language center. My boss was kind enough to let me return to work as a part timer, and soon after I was working full time again. By this stage I had no other plans except to work and make art on the side, and this was supposedly going to be the most comfortable place that I was going to be at in life...but oh boy was I wrong.


"2000 Years Later" time card from SpongeBob episode "SB-129" in Season 1. (12/31/1999) http://www.nick.com/

  Two years of this lifestyle continued and I was getting used to this schedule of work and art. I had found a nice balance where I was making art in my free time and I was able to make money in the bank so I could rest assured. I was keeping myself in better health with improved eating habits and a much improved workout regime. I had even joined an art committee around my neighborhood where I could join local exhibits and shows. It felt like things were starting fall in to place and I just needed to keep things consistent, but never did I ever realize that my grandma's old age was ever going to catch up to her.

  One day, during the weekend I was minding my own business and then I heard a thump sound across the room. I had though to my self that my grandma must have fallen over again, so I went over to see what had happened. I was presuming to myself that it was going to be just another one of those moments where I was going to nag her and tell her to stay put on her bed, and then she was going to banter back by saying how her body was not listening to her. For some reason, this time, she was unresponsive. She had a blank stare, and she was looking towards the ceiling, only at one direction. Whatever I said, she could only respond with some kind of groan. Her mouth was wide open, but she seemed unable to close it or move it to her liking. The situation then was incomprehensible and the only thing that I thought to myself was to carry her back up to her bed. I had remembered what our grandmother's government helper had said, that if there was ever an emergency I should call her and the ambulance. Never did I think to myself that this would ever happen. I was so foolish to think of life in only my perspective, and never did I think how quickly my grandmothers health had been deteriorating until this moment.

  I had called the ambulance first, and then I called the government helper. I did not call my father because I did not know how he would react and I was genuinely worried that he might be devastated if I had ever released the news to him. My instincts told me that I should, but my rational side held me back. (I eventually did call him, but only after everything was settled.) 

  When the ambulance arrived, I was in a state of panic. This was a first time experience for me, to be shifting someone through the emergency services, so I did not take anything with me but myself. My wallet and my phone were left at home. Little did I know that these emergency procedures took nearly the whole day to resolve, and much did I learn on this day because I had never been put in a situation where I had to be so very self reflective.

  One example of being inexperienced with this kind of situation is this one here. The medical staff required identification, and I had all of that, but I had no idea that they would require my grandmothers identification. I was put in a situation where I had to leave my grandmother and go back home, but they stressed that it was unwise to leave my grandmother unattended because they needed a guardian to be present, just in case certain decisions needed to be made by the doctors; the guardians approval was necessary. I had no choice but to leave my grandma unattended because there was no one that I could contact to help us out. (My grandma was not in good terms with her family members.) I got the doctors approval and cabbed it back home to gather my grandmothers documents and identification cards, then I cabbed it back to the hospital. I was able to hand over the identification documents to the hospital so they could handle the bureaucratic stuff, but there were other problems as well. My grandmother was not being compliant, as she was worried about the medical costs, so I had to do a bit of convincing to try and get her to agree with the procedures. This process required multiple international calls with my father.

  My grandma was moved into one of the emergency wards, and she seemed like she was in a more responsive state. She was talking to me and she was moving her arms around and what not, but she looked so weak a frail. I've never felt so helpless yet to her I was the most dependent person closest to her. Knowing that I was the only person she could depend on, and the only family member that the hospital could rely on, put a fair amount of pressure on me. A lot of decisions had to be made and all of those decisions had to be authorized by me. To be honest, this was an extremely difficult task because I had to basically choose how to deal with another persons health, and I felt like I had no authority to do so. At this point I felt like I really needed to get in contact with my father and let him decide as these decisions were something that I felt like I could no longer take command on.

  Eventually I called my father, who lived overseas, and I described to him what had happened. We discussed the details on how to progress with the hospital situation and then he told me that he will try and come to Korea as soon as possible. I was completely unaware how important 'as soon as possible' was because during the two days that I was taking care of my grandma, it was quite possibly the most stressful and depressing episode of my life...


  I spent the weekend in the hospital ward with my grandma: the doctor required a guardian at almost all times. As I was the only available guardian I had to stay around as along as I could, and I must admit the hospital wards were not very friendly places, full of very depressed and sad individuals trying to heal up and get back into life. There was not much space to work with and there was all sorts of noise everywhere. Every moment was a test of patience between everyone in the room, and even taking my handicapped grandma to the bathroom at the twilight hours was greeted by neighboring patients sighing and complaining. My grandma was also not at her best of feelings. She was very depressed about her state of being and health, and she was regretting that I had called the emergency services, because she was thinking that if I had not called the emergency services it would have been her chance to pass away. This was a very testing moment for me because it really saddened me that my grandma's life was deteriorating at a very accelerated state, and I was also starting to wonder if I should have just let her have her ways and not have called the emergency services. It was a very challenging moment, because many of my already established thoughts on what I thought was good and dutiful were starting to be questioned.


  After spending two days in the hospital ward during the weekend and another two more days during the weekdays my father had arrived in Korea to help out. (The doctor gave me permission to go to work. After work I would return to the hospital to spend the night.) It was somewhat relieving to have an extra hand to help out because I was not getting enough sleep, and I felt mentally exhausted. There were a lot of bureaucratic details that needed to be worked out, and I had work to think about along side my grandma's health concerns.

  Another week went by, and my grandma's daily nagging over wanting to leave prematurely over her concerns about the hospital bills were soon coming to an end. The doctor gave us the permission to leave, and we were able to take Grandma back home. We were all relieved that we were able to make it through all of this, but my dad and I knew that this was just the beginning of a phase, and we really needed to be mentally prepared for the worst to come.




Second Visit to the Hospital

  About 6 month went by, and my grandma and I spent our days doing our usual things. Nothing much had changed ever since the incident and things seemed to be back on track. I was a little bit more tense day by day because I could never predict when my grandmother would collapse, so I had to be more patient with how I treated her. Ever since she had come back from the hospital, she was starting to lose a lot of mobility very quickly. It was very concerning because many of the things that were easy for her to do were no longer plausible and she needed my help very often. It's not difficult helping the needy every once in a while, but having to be there at almost every moment is very stressful and sometimes I would react in ways where most would feel ashamed.


  It was a very testing time because I could tell that she was hesitant to call for help and she could sense my irritability, but at the same time without me she was quite helpless. Another concern was that she was starting to lose her social connections due to her lack of mobility. She was unable to attend her weekly meetings with her friends at the community center so she was starting to feel miserable and depressed. The only real person that she could rely on for much of her social activity was me, and to be honest I was trying very hard to avoid her at times or else I couldn't get on with my own life. I had felt so terrible about myself, but at the same time I didn't want to beat myself over it. It really made me wonder how I would feel as a lonely old man, being ignored by family and friends; not being able to move and take care of myself would be such an insult to my self, and that was probably how she felt every day. Still, with all of her disabilities, she willed herself to leave the house every so often, breaking out in sweat and drenching her clothes for a mere 10 paces. It was painful to watch, and I would try and convince her to stay home due to her health, but she was very stubborn; I could understand because that's how I would have acted as well.

  On one faithful morning, no different to my previous mornings, I was abruptly awoken by the land line telephone ringing across the room: my grandma usually picks up the phone. To add an extra layer to the chaos someone was knocking on the door, and I was barely able to gather myself because my head was still feeling numb from a fair amount of alcohol abuse from the night before. I begrudgingly picked myself up, walked out of my room over to the living room to be greeted by a horrifying scene. The telephone was still ringing, and on the ground there was human feces dragged across the floor starting from the bathroom to the living room all the way across to my grandmothers room. The phone was still ringing, my grandmother was sprawling on the floor and someone was still knocking the the door. My mind was feeling very numb from the intoxication of alcohol, I was shocked at what I had awoken to, it was a weekday and I had to go to work pretty soon, the phone was still ringing and someone was still knocking on the god damn fucking door.

  I attended to the person at the door first to be greeted by a friendly social worker all happy and smiling. That person was delivering a parcel for my grandmother and she was wondering how my grandmother was doing. I quickly thanked the person but told her that this was not the best time and shooed her away. I quickly attended to my grandma, and she was definitely having a stroke of some kind. She was very cold, she was shaking, she was somewhat functioning, but very poorly. She was gesturing something and I knew what she was trying to say; she didn't want me to call the ambulance. 

    Six month ago my grandmother and I had a discussion. She pleaded me not to call any emergency services when she is having another stroke, because she wanted it to be the end. I didn't respond to her and I just kind of thought about it. I understood that she no longer had the will to live, and I understood that it was her life and her choice. But, when I saw a sick and helpless human being suffering beneath my feet, even with my Grandma's wishes trying to be considered, I just could not get myself to respect her wishes. I called the ambulance and this time and I was better prepared. I gathered everything that was required for the bureaucratic processes.

This is a random part of the story. 

Home No More

  After spending about a week in the hospital my father and I had to make some more heavy decisions. The doctor and various people had started to stress that our grandma was no longer independent, and she would require extra care and monitoring. This would mean we would either have to move our grandma to a foster care center, or hire some kind of full time care giver. These were difficult choices because much of our problems were monetary issues. I could not imagine how shameful I felt when we had to be so stingy and strategic over someone's life due to money. It really made me wonder what the worth of a human life really was...

  Many careful considerations later we had decided to move our grandma to a foster care center that operated like a hospital. It was a painful decision because it felt like we were abandoning her, and she felt like she was a burden to us. During that time she was constantly questioning me about my decision to bring her to the hospital, and she regretted at the fact that she was not currently dead. My father and I were also very tense because we had no idea how these foster care centers operated nor did we know anything about how health care worked for the old and needy. Everything that we were treading on were on new grounds and we were feeling very helpless. Luckily for my grandma the government was aiding her so with her monthly government allowance and we had been able to pay for her foster care bills. Money was no longer a lingering issue, but our grandmother's mental health was one of our concerns.

  Externally my grandma was well cared for, and I had nothing but gratitude towards the medical staff for taking great care of her. She was certainly as healthy as she could be at her current state, but she was not going to be getting any better. The stroke had robbed her of her legs, and whatever function she had left of her numbing right arm was also rendered useless. Her right eye was also surgically removed due to a failed surgery, so my grandma was pretty much a sentient vegetable, fully capable of thought, speech and limited motion, but robbed of her freedom. She was pretty much destined to be bed ridden at this point, and her frustration was at her peak. She was emotional and she cried a lot. I had seen my grandmother cry twice during my lifetime before this chapter of my life, and from this point onward she would show her tears very often. It left such a heavy sensation in my chest to see such a strong independent woman being brought down to such a state. 


Back In Hong Kong

    I thought I was going to care for my grandma for a long period of time but there were things that changed which forced me back to my parents place in Hong Kong. There was a change in the law which required all foreigner Koreans to apply to military duty. For Korean's military duty was mandatory and during my stay in Korea it had never mattered because I was considered a foreigner due to my Hong Kong citizenship. Unfortunately that status was no longer viable because at that time there was a change in the the law where any male with Korean blood was considered a national citizen, and the military service became mandatory. If you wanted to stay in the country you had to go through military service. The option that the country suggested was to do a year and a half of service, or leave the country.

    At this point in my life I had never felt so divided. I was not a spunky 20 year old and I was about to hit my 30's. Doing military service for a year and a half was a big investment, and I felt that it was not necessary at this point in my life. I had a three year grace period where I could live my life freely in Korea before I had to bow my head head down for the country. 

    I never did do my military service for my country. I stayed about a year into my grace period to care for my grandmother, and then I moved back to Hong Kong. It wasn't an easy choice because I didn't want to leave my grandma behind, but I had to make that choice. What saddened me was that this was the last time that I had seen my grandma in person. My father took over from here on and he spent time with my grandma on and off throughout the years. My grandma passed during Covid and thankfully my father was there for her. During that time I was in Hong Kong, and I couldn't visit Korea because of the Covid restrictions. It was a sad moment in my life because I wasn't able to commit to taking care of my grandma, and it pained me   

    I had returned back to the place that I had grown up in, and as much as it felt familiar it also felt foreign. I had grown so fond of Korea, and I felt so uncomfortable coming back home to where my parents were. Our home was still the same and the places around me were still similar but there were some slight changes. What had really worried me the most was trying to find a job. I had initially left Hong Kong to find a job in Korea, but now I was back to where I had started, and I felt like I was in the same dilemma again. It was 2019 February, and I was trying to find work. I wasn't confident but I felt like my work experience in Korea would help me in some ways. I didn't want to get back into the teaching industry so I took another risk in applying for a job in the fine art industry. 

    I was able to find an internship position at a small startup gallery, and I must admit this was an exciting moment for me. Ever since my disastrous experience in trying out for the animation industry, I had been hoping to find a way to get back into the creative field. I had thought to myself that maybe this internship at the art gallery might help me boost my career in this field or maybe I could even try and show some of my personal work. During my time there I helped them with setting up their lighting racks, painting and patching up their walls, pouring resin onto the floors and preparing for their opening exhibition. It was a lot of hard work and there were only three of us preparing everything at first. We had a few members that came and went, but I continued to do what I could for them. I did get to meet many interesting artists from within the art community, and also other uncommon folks within the crowds of the neighborhood. I was happy with the type of work that I was doing, but as it was only an internship I wasn't able to maintain this type of lifestyle. I didn't want to be a freeloader at my parents place, and I wanted something that was more sustainable. Eventually I left the gallery and started job searching again.

    I decided to take on whatever job that seemed most suitable at the time which was a job as a server at a Korean take-out restaurant. It wasn't anywhere close to what I did in terms of the teaching industry or art industry, but it was something that paid. I was preparing food from the early morning to prep for the lunch time rush. 


There were a lot of changes happening around me, but I wasn't ready to become too involved with their projects. I eventually parted with them and tried to apply for a job in the hotel industry as a butler. 

It was an interesting job and honestly I was kind of enjoying it, especially during the training period. I thought this was a honest job that I would be aspiring for during my time in Hong Kong, but I eventually rejected this job. Now, I was presuming that some people may have been thinking why would someone pass up on a honest job offer, but I had my reasons. I had met someone who was totally new to me, and she was completely not a part of my life until this point, but she said a few things that inspired me into realizing a certain truth in my life.

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