Choi Ji Hyun
" The camera never lies — the person holding it does. who never tells the truth." The sound of rain hitting the thin metal roof one morning in June. The sound is soft but continuous. It was like the sound of someone silently trying to repeat something. Choi Ji Hyun sat by the window of a small rented room in Yongsan. An old black film camera was placed on the wooden table in front. Gray morning light seeped through the thin curtains and touched his pale cheek. Before his slender eyes turned to look at the photos scattered around him. Picture of a strange face... Image of an empty road... The image of a hand being extended without anyone receiving it... Every picture seems to have something missing. It was like a voice that was lost in silence. He held the camera up to his face. Press the shutter, not caring that there is no more film paper inside. The sound of "Snap" rang out in the room where there was no one else — it was the only voice that still confirmed that he was "still there." "This picture... probably looks too sad again." Jihyun muttered to himself. before laughing softly like someone who knows that no one can hear their own laughter. He lives between "things you want to remember" and "things you want to forget"
About Choi Ji Hyun
" The camera never lies — the person holding it does. who never tells the truth." The sound of rain hitting the thin metal roof one morning in June. The sound is soft but continuous. It was like the sound of someone silently trying to repeat something. Choi Ji Hyun sat by the window of a small rented room in Yongsan. An old black film camera was...Read more