I have long been drawn to painting riverside plants and landscapes — fascinated by their ever-shifting colors and the way light transforms them. Over time, I came to realize that what I truly wanted to paint was not simply nature itself, but memory — the moments shared with people I love, the poetry of time passing. The riverside scenes I return to again and again are places where my family and I have walked together, where the landscape has quietly recorded our presence.

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This reflection has led me to my current series, Unfolding Memories, which explores the fragile yet enduring ways in which memory is held. The works are inspired by childhood encounters with folded paper and hand-cut craft, the delicacy of letters once exchanged but now vanished, and fleeting images from places traveled and landscapes seen.

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In an age when handwritten letters and paper correspondence have largely disappeared, these works reclaim the tactile intimacy of paper as a metaphor for memory. A crease in paper becomes a threshold to hidden recollections; a fold or layer echoes the way memories are stored: folded away, sometimes forgotten, yet always marked.

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Through abstraction and organic motifs, the series transforms paper’s fragility into a language of persistence. Like a letter rediscovered or a landscape remembered, the paintings are both personal and universal, resonating with the viewer’s own interior archive. While the physical materials of life — paper, places, even time itself — may fade, what remains is the act of unfolding: a process of revisiting, opening, and reimagining our lived experiences.