Seol Suan

Lettuce seeds from an elderly neighbor take root in a city planter, growing across generations. This sight evokes memories: the neighbor's yard, her cat, the sound of her footsteps, and her hands, which, like a village craftsperson, cared for all surrounding life. A physical pain that began back then brings a new awareness of the body's inner entanglements and the invisible ripples left by the world’s countless grandmothers.

Roro, a writer-in-the-making in her thirties, dreams passionately of a post-nuclear world and a transition away from capitalism. Convinced that farming and living self-sufficiently is a path toward systemic change, she joins a program for young people exploring self-reliance through agriculture. But the physical demands of fieldwork wear her down, leaving no time to read or write the novel. As the crops defy her expectations, the future feels increasingly uncertain. How close can Roro come to the transformation she imagines—for her own life, and for the system itself?

I travelled to Cuba, a land of sensual sunlight. 100 years ago Koreans immigrated to Cuba looking for the land of milk and honey. However, is it still possible to find a similar place in the current Socialist Cuba? Or, is it crumbling away by the wave of Neo-Liberalism, like old buildings falling under the weight of time? During my interviews I met a boy with especially radiant eyes and fell in love with him. I brought him with me to the other side of the world. My frizzy haired dark skinned boyfriend who has never left Cuba, is now treated like a goblin who must find salvation and be resurrected in Korea.

Two farmers, Yoon Gyun-sang and Jang Gwi-deok, have been receiving and planting their own seeds for decades. Farming changed their body and they have continued to work for several decades with the changed body as a matter of course. With the changes in their surroundings, however, their labor became special. There are people who are looking for the seeds that their special labor have been keeping. They may bring back to us the time that we took for granted, the precious time of seeds that constantly changes but lasts.