A letter for my son, a visit from my aging parents—two quiet moments that made me feel the weight and beauty of time. This post reflects on shifting roles, the quiet strength of parental love, and the emotional echoes of growing up, growing older, and letting go.
Navigating Identity reflects on a Korean association’s event in Switzerland, where diverse attendees explore their sense of belonging. Through personal observations, the author reflects on how identity is fluid, shaped by culture, experiences, and the journey to find a place where all parts of oneself coexist.
Launching a design business takes more than creativity. It requires a business mindset. After eight years in agencies, I started my own studio and learned some key lessons the hard way. Here’s what I wish I knew earlier.
From university research on sustainable construction to brand design, I’ve learned that both require vision, long-term thinking, and an understanding of how systems connect. My time in Switzerland through the LG Pioneers program deepened my appreciation for sustainability’s future relevance, which continues to shape my design approach today.
Imposter syndrome evolves as designers progress from junior roles to leadership. This article explores how self-doubt shapes creative growth and offers strategies to navigate it with confidence.
A Journey to Litoměřice reflects on my 4,212 hours as a hockey parent, highlighted by my son’s first international tournament in the historic Czech town. Between intense games, local cuisine, and shared moments with fellow parents, it was more than just hockey—it was about showing up, adapting, and embracing the experience.
In 1980s Portugal, Korea was a distant concept—two nations divided yet indistinguishable to outsiders. For an eight-year-old growing up by the Atlantic, that divide felt abstract until a chilling mix-up sent my father into a panic. As he raced home, the boundaries between two Koreas, and two fates, blurred in an instant.
A decade-old promise brought three generations to Kenya. From Nairobi’s chaos to the vast Masai Mara, we immersed ourselves in its beauty, culture, and contrasts. Wildlife humbled us, Maasai traditions inspired us, and modern encroachments left us reflective. Kenya was unforgettable. And at its heart, a promise kept.
Seoul is full of layers—the old and new, the mainstream and the underground, the flashy and the raw. This time, I found myself exploring the hidden gems of the city, guided by my longtime friend W. From old printing districts with faded signs to neon-lit bars tucked away in unassuming buildings, each place revealed a unique story. It felt like a night of treasure hunting—businesses staying hidden, opening only to those who knew. In these layers, I found a deeper connection to the city I call home, no matter how far away I may be.
A city of contrasts—chaos and beauty, simplicity and richness. Palermo greeted me with sunlit streets, the scent of the sea, and a vibrant disorder that felt both unfamiliar and deeply comforting. From dodging traffic and garbage piles to indulging in the freshest seafood, every moment was a reminder of life’s raw, unfiltered charm. Between work, beach days, and endless plates of sea food, I found myself tracing familiar threads of connection—between places, people, and the simple joys that make a place feel like home.
The beauty of hockey isn’t just in the goals—it’s in the unseen moments that lead up to them. A perfectly timed pass, a split-second read, a seamless play executed through instinct and trust. Watching my son’s clip, I replayed it over and over, dissecting the invisible plays that made the goal possible. Just like in life, success isn’t just about the final result—it’s built on countless unseen efforts, perseverance, and the ability to read and adapt to the flow of the game.
A nomadic life set in motion before I was even born. At two months old, I crossed the Pacific with my parents to Brazil—no family, no friends, just the unknown. Since then, I’ve lived in the U.S., Portugal, Korea, India, and Switzerland, each place leaving its mark. Today, I run my own design studio in Switzerland, but my journey continues—through words, images, and reflections on identity. Because stories, like memories, are meant to be shared.