As the world begins to open up with a lingering cloud of uncertainty, I look back on my experience living at home in Queens, New York City. For three months (and counting), I, like many others, have been cooped up indoors as I wait for things to get better in the outside world. At first, I kept myself busy with finishing college online. When classes ended, I found other work and media that I could consume relentlessly until I became exhausted.
Yet there were also days when I’d stare at the ceiling, feeling an overwhelming absence of purpose. One change that I made while being stuck at home is that I now keep my camera more accessible, displaying it on my desk rather than keeping it hidden in my camera bag.
With this small change, a photo collection was born. Click on the thumbnail below for the full series.
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Welcome to an intimate glimpse of my home: a Korean household inhabiting a small building in a very quiet town. Thanks to a pandemic, this home became my shelter for a much longer extension of my childhood than I anticipated. Has living here disrupted my transition into adulthood—the transition that I yearned for and feared at the same time? I have a theory that your physical surroundings influence your mental space. Spending three whole months contained within the walls of your childhood bedroom might cause you to revert to your younger self. At least there is the beauty of nostalgia.
Home is filled with fruits toppling over the basket rim. Hot stews, broths, and a guaranteed bowl of rice with every meal. Home is silhouettes and shadows with every 8:30pm sunset. A humble appreciation for clear skies and views from suburbia. Home is the garden of my mother’s labor.
It is a place of solace, when no other door is open.
click below for more visuals
