Jun Park

Meet the artist

Jun Park

I work on paper until it behaves like weather. A lantern, a petal, a gold thread — each of them a way to hold noon without crushing it. People think paper is fragile. I think it is a geology of its own: grain, pressure, a pale hour that has not yet decided to become afternoon. I look for the moment the wind lifts the cosmos and the lantern answers. If the picture feels like a held breath, I stop.