Oil on canvas
130.3 x 130.3 cm
Unique Works
Certificate of Authenticity included
There came a time when the artist found herself doing nothing but looking at the sky. Without purpose or intention, her gaze lingered upward - until she began to notice. The clouds were always shifting. The light was subtly changing. In the distance, the shapes of mountains and fields began to emerge. From this quiet observation, something stirred - a forgotten rhythm, a soft return to feeling. And with it, the impulse to paint. The Dreaming Days of Splendor is born from this restoration of perception. The paper airplanes and boats that drift through the canvas are not whimsical distractions, but intimate vessels—temporary shelters for memory, hope, and the need to rest. Ordinary objects like cardboard boxes and paper bags, recurring motifs in Yoon Soyeon’s work, are transformed into private spaces where the invisible can dwell. Into these containers, the artist tucks fragments of sky, the breath of a forest, or the hush of wind. The Korean expression “화양연화 (hwa-yang-yeon-hwa)” refers to the most beautiful and fleeting time of one’s life - a time often recognized only once it has passed. Yoon does not seek to recreate that time directly, but rather to dream of it, to gently hold it within a new space. Her paintings do not capture nostalgia in its full intensity; instead, they allow its traces to move quietly, with warmth, across the surface of everyday life. Oil, her chosen medium, suits this tempo of thought. It dries slowly, asking for patience, allowing feelings to layer and shift with time. The textures and nuances of her canvas - subtle brushstrokes, softened colors, the intimate weight of accumulated layers - cannot be fully seen in a photograph. They must be felt in person, where the painting reveals its depth not all at once, but gradually, like memory resurfacing. As she painted, the artist found herself returning to a question: “Why do I paint?” It is not a rhetorical question, nor a crisis, but a beginning - a quiet confrontation with the self. Though she has painted for many years, Yoon sees this moment as a threshold, a turning point from craft to deeper introspection. Painting becomes not a pursuit of clarity, but a way of staying close to what cannot be resolved. This work was created in a time of emotional unrest, in a world that feels increasingly uncertain. And yet, through the act of painting, the artist reaches for something hopeful. The Dreaming Days of Splendor is not a declaration of escape, but a gentle insistence that beauty and tenderness are still possible - and worth seeking. This painting is a message, sent slowly and sincerely: That even amid noise and doubt, we are allowed to dream. And if the viewer, even for a moment, smiles quietly before it - then the painting has done what it came to do. 한글번역: 어느 날부터, 이유 없이 하늘만 바라보는 날들이 이어졌다. 멍하니 구름을 따라가다 보면 어느새 색이 달라져 있었고, 조금만 더 시선을 두면 산과 들의 형상이 스며들기 시작했다. 그제야 비로소, 무언가 보이기 시작했다. 작가에게 자연은 어느 날 갑자기 등장한 대상이 아니라, 무심한 반복의 시간 속에서 천천히 되돌아온 감각이었다. 그리고 그 감각은 다시 그림으로 이어졌다. 《꿈꾸는 화양연화》는 그 감각의 회복에서 비롯된 회화다. 손끝에서 조용히 접은 종이비행기와 종이배는 풍경을 가로지르는 장난감이 아니라, 마음이 잠시 머물 공간이다. 익숙한 택배박스나 종이 가방 속에 하늘과 숲, 바람과 시간 같은 비물질적인 풍경을 담아내며, 작가는 그 공간을 쉼과 희망이 잠시 깃드는 감정의 방으로 변환시킨다. 화양연화 (삶의 가장 찬란한 순간) 라는 말이 주는 아름다움은 그 찬란함이 지나간 것임을 인식하는 데서 온다. 윤소연의 그림은 그 지나간 시간을 직접적으로 붙잡기보다는, 그것을 조용히 기억하고 꿈꾸는 방식으로 존재한다. 그리움은 과거형이지만, 작가의 붓 아래에서는 그것이 지금-여기의 풍경 안에 부드럽게 녹아든다. 오일이라는 느린 물감은 작가의 사유 리듬에 잘 맞는다. 천천히 마르는 화면 위에서 생각은 멈추지 않고 흘러가며, 감정은 색으로 겹겹이 쌓인다. 사진으로는 닿지 않는 화면의 깊이와 붓의 흐름, 물성이 주는 온도감은 이 작품을 실물로 마주했을 때 비로소 제대로 살아난다. 윤소연의 그림은 감정을 말하지 않는다. 그러나 그 안에서 감정은 자라난다. 작가는 이 작품을 그리며 끊임없이 스스로에게 질문을 던졌다. “나는 왜 그리고 있을까?” 그 질문은 단지 직업적 회고가 아니라, 자신을 다시 바라보기 위한 내밀한 여정의 시작이었다. 오랜 시간 작업을 해왔지만, 어쩌면 진짜 여정은 이제야 시작된 것일지도 모른다. 정답 없는 이 여정 속에서 그림은 작가에게 한 줄기 바람처럼 다시 다가왔다. 이 작품은 불신과 소란으로 가득한 세계 속에서도, 여전히 무언가 아름답고 따뜻한 것을 꿈꾸는 손길로 그려졌다. 작가는 그 손길을 감상자에게 조심스레 건넨다. 자신이 받은 위안이 또 다른 누군가에게 전해지길, 그리고 이 그림 앞에서 아주 조용한 미소 하나라도 떠오르길 바라는 마음으로. 《꿈꾸는 화양연화》는 지나간 빛을 기억하는 방식이자, 그 빛을 다시 그려내는 사람의 조용한 선언이다.
Yoon Soyeon’s paintings draw our attention to what we so often overlook: the quiet companions of daily life - delivery boxes, paper shopping bags, hand-folded paper planes. These modest objects, familiar to the point of invisibility, become transformed in her hands into something tender and strangely expansive. Her work does not seek drama or spectacle. Instead, it offers a delicate choreography of space and emotion - composed, restrained, but emotionally resonant. The spaces she constructs on canvas are not fixed interiors or defined exteriors. Rather, they are elastic rooms of feeling: containers of memory, stillness, and private reverie. A paper box in her work may be a room, a window, or a sea; it may hold the weight of routine or the lift of a fleeting dream. 한글번역: Using oil paint - a medium that rewards patience - Yoon builds her images slowly, allowing thought and feeling to collect between layers. Her preference for this slow-drying medium mirrors the pace of her inner rhythm. Painting becomes a space not of performance but of listening; not of resolution but of ongoing attention. There is an understated symbolism at play. The recurring presence of boxes and bags - fragile, temporary, and portable - becomes a metaphor for emotional containment and spatial possibility. They are at once grounded and nomadic, soft structures through which the artist navigates both the self and the outside world. Central to Yoon’s artistic philosophy is a quiet inquiry, often unspoken but persistent: Am I content? Am I still in love with this work? How long can I go on painting? These questions are not declarations of doubt but rituals of reflection - moments of pause that have accompanied her for more than two decades as a working artist. Her recent projects show an expanding horizon. The introduction of nature—sky, forest, sea - and elements like paper boats and airplanes suggest a desire not to escape, but to breathe. Her world remains rooted in the everyday, but her gaze reaches outward, gently. The box is still here, but now it contains wind. For Yoon, painting is not a means of escape from anxiety - it is a way of holding it, tending to it, allowing it to soften over time. Her work does not shout, but it stays. And in that staying, there is warmth, generosity, and a quiet resilience. If, in front of one of her paintings, a viewer finds themself smiling - softly, for no reason at all - then perhaps the painting has already done its work.