History of Fire Bird

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    History of Fire Bird 
     
     is a self portrait of a girl who was born on the same day her favorite writer died 40 years ago. 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
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    Burn all that I have written, she said.
    Her words went up in flames
    and left behind was a lonely dead women
    who was never loved by her husband
    who lost all her three children-
    nothing more, nothing less.
     
    But even after her brother was executed accused of treason because of his novel
    Along with the novel that killed him, her words lived through their remains 
    for her brother relived the her words from his memory
    imprinted them tightly on the pages so that no fume will take them away.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    And three centuries later the whole country was being tramped with foreign flames.
    Marching of boys to the land burning and barren
    Girls dragged to soldiers drenched with smell of gunpowder and death.
    And a women was slowly losing memory, locked in the room of her own house living with her husband whom she could never choose. 
    Like a snail she coils herself down into her childhood forgetting the shell of her body. Perhaps- From the memory of her father's death when she was 8
    From the memory of teenage years drinking only from water bottle because she was afraid of being poisoned like her father
    She might have suddenly remembered she was the last princess that everyone has forgotten about.
     
     
     
     
     
    1950, A flame starts- and this flame is lava, a blood erupted down from the skin of the land. The bridge that ran over a river thousand steps wide is burst open by bombing of a plane. The flaming bridge bleeds people down the river the waters of which swallows even their names. Those few steps lucky run towards each ends of the beheaded bridge to the North, north, north and to the south south south as the country burned and flamed.
     
    Until they looked around and found out they could never go back again.
     
    And then the fire went to sleep for another 50 years and even to this day,
    under the blankets of ashes. On the rattling earth shivering from the cold emptiness where the flame is gone nameless children walk.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Sound of hammers sprung Factories fill the gaps of lost houses. But then, People realized that city was on fire when a burning man screamed in the middle of street.
     
    From the city of ashes and fire 
    which peoples' names and voices were drowned under water
    Rose words that remember and relive the ages through pages.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    And… one Saturday night a women in a bar- recites a poem.
     
    When unbearable becomes the pain
    let us die on one Sunday.
     
    Even if you come back for me 
    I will no longer be alive.
     
    My lover there is nothing to fear
    Even when I can't see you again
    my soul is with you.
     
    Loving once more
    Candle will burn fiercely like hope.
    To see you, perhaps my eyes will be open-blankly.
     
    And the poem went up in flames
    as she burned it to candle light
     
    The following Sunday morning she is found dead.
    But her last poem is yet again recited through the record of her friend.
     
    And 40 years from the night yet another voice out from the womb starts breathing.
     
     
     
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    This is a story of flames and words rising,fading and persisting- like waves of sea, leading to emergence of another voice that will sing the words that remember. 
     
     
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     Although inspired by events, places and people that had once existed in Korean history I did not specify them because I wanted my experience to act as only moulder of elements. I wanted to leave the alignment of elements to be empty of definition for others to fill in their experience, and live personalized story of their own.
     
    The piece is consisted of movie and charcoal illustration both inspired by spoken word piece that I wrote. 
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    The red line in the video represents red of the flame and red of blood. Flame that burnt the words and buried voices and blood that was shed and the blood that flowed from the veins of my ancestors to mine. The traveling of the line is later revealed to form a shape of fingerprint.
     
    Fingerprint is used as symbol of identity. Fingerprint is formed by how waters of womb affect your fingers. Through the image of fingerprint I wanted to convey the identity that is formed by your environment-not only physical, but more phsychological-more like a sentiment that ran through the history. 
     
    I wanted to make a map of a journey which destination is me. A journey of flame and words. Through the video I wanted to show the journey and through the illustration I wanted to show people the 'map' of the journey. I removed the red line in the final illustration because the journey has already happened,the line ending as the umbilical cord of a baby now born. What is left in the 'static portrait' or 'finalized portrait' is the journey's traces.