Yi Ok-seon
100x100 cm
Archival digital print on paper
Yajima Tsukasa
2005
100x100 cm
Archival digital print on paper
Yajima Tsukasa
Gwangju, South Korea
2005Transcription under the portrait

Audio transcription
On my fingers I count the years
Of living in a foreign land.
In the more than ten years since I left home
Only the spring of my youth’s grown old.
The willow in front of my home
Will be green this spring also…
When I folded the willow leaf and blew it like a fife
Those were the olden days
Josh: “What is the meaning of ‘Tahyang Sali?’”
Yi Okseon: “Leaving home, leaving your hometown—you, for example.
You’ve come all the way over here, right?
That’s Tahyang Sali” (living in a foreign land).
Because it’s not your hometown.
You go to a foreign land,
you stay there for a long time,
and after some ten years the spring of your youth’s grown old.
So you become a grandpa or a grandma.
That’s what it means, that one.”
Extract from Living in a Foreign Land