Oil on canvas
60.6 x 91 cm
Unique Works
Certificate of Authenticity included
There is a moment when change becomes visible - not loud or abrupt, but steady and irreversible. For the artist, that moment arrived when she began to notice the shifting rhythm of her surroundings. The east, west, and north were all caught in the current of rapid development. Only the southern horizon remained still - a rare fragment of untouched time. That southern view, filled with open sky and the quiet breath of nature, began to feel fragile, like something that might vanish overnight. The artist realized she might not always be able to see this view, to feel this air, to witness the subtle movement of seasons in the trees. So she chose to claim it - not with possession, but with preservation. This painting is that act of quiet claiming. A Quiet, Peaceful Fortress of My Own is not a fortress in the traditional sense. It has no walls, no gates. It is a space of stillness carved out of change, a place made not of stone but of light, wind, and memory. In this work, Yoon Soyeon creates a sensory shelter - a landscape that exists as much in the heart as on the canvas. The composition holds no grand narrative. The scene simply is - a pause in the flow, a resistance to the urgency of modern life. But beneath the stillness lies an emotional tension: the knowledge that what is visible today may not remain tomorrow. The painting becomes an archive of presence, a way of holding onto what is fleeting without trying to stop it. As in her other works, Yoon’s use of oil gives the painting its slow, layered rhythm. Color is not applied, but built—stroke by stroke, layer by layer - until it begins to hold time itself. Her palette does not shout, but it listens. It gives shape to a mood, a breath, a pause. This work is not only about nature, but about the need for a space to return to—when the world feels too fast, when emotions are pushed to the edges. It is about the longing to hold stillness close, to wrap oneself in quiet, and to call it one’s own. In that sense, this is not just a painting of a landscape. It is a portrait of a feeling. A wish. A small, silent promise that somewhere - perhaps within - you can still find your own southern horizon. 한글번역: 어느 날 문득, 작가는 깨달았다. 자신이 사는 공간을 둘러싼 세계가 조용히 그러나 급속도로 바뀌고 있다는 것을. 동쪽, 서쪽, 북쪽—세 방향으로는 도시의 재구성과 개발이라는 이름의 속도감이 흐르고 있었다. 오직 남쪽만이 잠시 멈춘 듯, 오래된 시간의 흔적을 붙잡고 있었고, 그 방향으로는 아직도 하늘이 열려 있고, 나무의 색이 계절을 따라 움직이며, 바람이 건드리는 속도가 느껴졌다. 그러나 그 고요도 결국 영원하지 않다는 사실은, 마치 내일이면 사라질 꿈처럼 작가의 마음속을 불안하게 스쳤다. 그래서 작가는 결심했다. 사라지기 전에, 그 장면을 ‘온전히 내 것’으로 만들겠다고. 《평온하고 고요한 나만의 요새》는 그 사적인 선언의 결과물이다. 이 작품은 현실을 단순히 재현하거나 기억하는 것이 아니라, 감각과 감정, 바람의 속도, 빛의 결을 통해 보존된 세계를 회화로 번역한 시도다. 그것은 자연을 가두는 것이 아니라, 자연과 감정의 관계를 하나의 공간 안에 조용히 머무르게 하려는 행위이다. 그림 속 풍경은 대단한 드라마나 움직임 없이 그저 ‘거기’에 존재한다. 그러나 이 정적인 장면 안에는 사라짐의 예감이 짙게 깔려 있다. 그래서 이 작품은 단지 고요한 풍경화가 아니다. 이것은 ‘지켜내려는 마음’, ‘기억의 자리’, 그리고 ‘자신을 둘러싸고 있는 세계의 경계에 둥글게 만들어 놓은 내면의 피난처’다. 윤소연 특유의 색과 레이어는 이 고요함에 시간을 부여한다. 천천히 쌓이는 오일의 층들, 미묘한 붓질의 리듬은 지금 여기의 감정을 천천히, 그러나 단단히 밀어올린다. 작가는 이 회화를 통해 외부 세계의 속도에서 비켜나, 자기만의 호흡을 되찾는다. 《평온하고 고요한 나만의 요새》는 단순한 자연의 기억이 아니라, 우리가 지키고 싶은 감정의 장소에 관한 이야기다. 삶이 너무 빠르게 지나갈 때, 감정이 너무 자주 밀려날 때, 우리는 어디로 숨을 수 있을까? 이 그림은 그 질문에 대해 이렇게 속삭인다. "당신만의 고요한 남쪽이 있기를."
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.