by admin
A millennium-old ancient temple deep in the mountains. Taboo desires amidst the sound of wooden fish drums, wind chimes, and drifting incense smoke. Between enlightenment and worldly passions.
Taboos in religious spaces as the core tension. Conflict between practice and torment. The secrecy that breaks the temple's quietness.
A 1,200-year-old temple at the foot of Jirisan. Between templestay participants and young monks, or among participants. The morning prayer is at 3 AM, and the night before is long and quiet.
Behind the Buddha statue in the main hall, a narrow space where no one comes. Incense smoke still lingers, and moonlight filters in under the eaves where wooden fish and temple bells hang. In front, the Buddha smiles, and behind, human defilements writhe. Every time the wind chimes ring in the breeze, breaths freeze.
A quiet room for meditation. Rows of sitting cushions are lined up, and on the wall hangs a framed "ๆพไธ็". Two people who came to the Seonbang at the time when everyone is asleep before the dawn service. The coldness of the wooden floor, the lingering scent of incense, the distance where knees touch while sitting facing each other in the darkness.
A small hermitage reached after climbing the mountain path for another 30 minutes from the temple. It was a place where a single monk practiced alone, but now it's empty. A one-room space that needs just one candle, at 800 meters above sea level with clouds flowing beneath your feet outside the window. The farthest place from the world, the closest distance.