This work commemorates the countless civilians who have been publicly executed under the brutal regime of North Korea. These victims lost their lives for reasons as shocking as secretly watching South Korean dramas, owning a Bible, or practicing their Christian faith. In North Korea, there is no freedom of religion—even children and the elderly have been killed without mercy.
Most were executed without names, buried in cold earth without gravestones. Yet the sky and the ground witnessed their final moments. And they still do. I attempt to capture that silent witness through the act of burning and through color. Fire becomes a trace of pain, a testimony of truth. Color gives voice to the silence, to the rage, and to the grief of those left behind.
I envision the terror, rage, and despair of those who were forced to face death blindfolded. My work is steeped in mourning. The burning is not just a technique—it is a poem written with my tears. It is my prayer for the oppressed.
I know I cannot truly understand their suffering. But when I think of their cries and the depth of their pain, I continue to burn and burn. No other method feels sufficient to express what they endured.
This work is more than art—it is a cry to the world, a declaration that we must not forget the human rights abuses in North Korea. I hope that the tragedies of the past 80 years will be remembered, acknowledged, and declared. And when freedom, human dignity, and freedom of faith are finally restored in North Korea, I will no longer write these fiery poems of sorrow.
