About usefulness
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1 meter: It's a big deal, but it's not a big deal
2~3 meters: Exciting spring sunshine, sad spring
5~7 meters: Places hold memories.
10 Meters Down: This is not a movie

◎ Photos and writings by the observer
The photos were divided into four parts based on the distance from the subject.
Here, we have revealed the 'focal length' for each photo to help you estimate the distance to the subject more accurately.
The author has written about the distance from the subject.
The author always wonders what a beautiful distance is between people he meets on the street.

“Photography, especially media photography, is often rude.
Taking pictures often involves standing in front of people, but I'm shy so I hesitated to approach them.
I also felt that just holding the camera close was violent.
Still, I preferred to take photos by getting up close with a wide-angle lens.
I always thought about how close I could get to the subject and whether getting close was the right thing to do.
The distance from the subject was often proportional to the relationship.
Looking back, there were many more things I failed at because I didn't make an effort to get closer than things I failed at because I couldn't step back.
Even if there was nothing special going on, I visited the protest site every time I went there.
I was wondering if there was anything.
Well, there was something there, it was a place where people lived, so I listened to their stories.
When others are sad and crying, that's when the person holding the camera gets busy.
He forgot his regret and kept firing the flash.
“I became numb.”

◎ How does time pass in microhistory or on-site?
As writer Im Jong-jin points out, the places where Jeong Gi-hun stayed are “barren and desperate soils,” such as “the hunger strike sites of laid-off workers at Colt, KTX, and Ssangyong Motors, the Sewol Ferry tent in Gwanghwamun, and the Japanese Embassy.”
In such a scene, it explains in detail, one by one, how the subject endures time and how time flows and passes for the subject.
Of course, time will also pass for the author standing around the subject, but he depicts both at the same time.

Professor Ha Jong-gang described the author's work as "our precious microhistory."
“If it weren’t for this book, I would never have seen or heard the heartbreaking conversations between them or the facts that were almost buried in the numbers in the statistics until I died,” he explained his reason.
He was at every scene.
Readers will quickly realize the moment they open the book that the phrase "every scene in Korea" is no exaggeration.

KTX female flight attendants, Cortek dismissed workers, Pyeongtaek Ssangyong Motor factory, Kiryung Electronics workers, Sewol ferry victims' families, Samsung Electronics Service workers, the late Kim Yong-gyun, Raytech Korea workers, Myeongdong redevelopment area, Yongsan disaster, tollgate toll collectors, Yooseong Enterprise labor union, Japan-Korea agreement on Japanese military 'comfort women', Hydis layoffs, Dongyang Cement subcontractor workers, national university hospital service workers, Hanjin Heavy Industries Yeongdo Shipyard layoffs, civil disobedience movement, public service union, irregular workers in educational public service, E-Land unfair dismissal, Seoul National University Hospital branch strike, Korean Teachers and Education Workers Union, Samsung leukemia, janitor strike, Gangjeong naval base, Baek Nam-gi farmer, Han Sang-gyun, Korean Confederation of Trade Unions chairman, presidential dismissal, Jeon Tae-il memorial day, Gwangju Mangwol-dong cemetery, Ssangyong Motors Daehanmun memorial altar, Guui Station screen door accident, presidential election vote counting, Kim Jin-sook, Korean Confederation of Trade Unions steering committee member, SeAH Steel dismissed workers, part-time workers, building Rope workers cleaning exterior walls, teachers who sacrificed themselves at Danwon High School, building cleaners, security guards, people's uprising, irregular workers at cable broadcasting companies such as C&M, etc.


There was nothing unusual, the fight had already been going on.
People who did the Sambo Ilbae crawled like maggots from Gwanghwamun to Seoul Station.
When standing, he clasped his hands together, and when lying down, he stretched them forward, often raising them towards the sky.
Another person's hand was close behind my feet.
The camera was high up among the people lying down.
The camera was not used to looking down, so it would lower itself to follow them.
Near the floor, a very distorted expression was visible.
Among the many repetitive movements, I kept capturing the standing up.
In August 2009, I was standing on the roof of a five-story building in Chilgoe-dong, Pyeongtaek, Gyeonggi Province, gazing out at the Ssangyong Motors factory in flames across the street, my heart burning with anger and shame. Then, my mother told me, “The house in Suwon has been sold.”
Late one night, my father came home with a clattering extension bag.
The smell of alcohol was strong, and the smell of fermented skate mixed in there.
I was worried that my drunken father would stumble and step on my new white basketball shoes.
Two people starved in a shabby vinyl house built on the roof of the factory's main entrance information office.
He leaned his gaunt body against the back of the chair and licked his dry lips.
They demanded a solution to the problem of illegally dispatched irregular workers.
“In the past, when someone committed suicide, the whole country would be turned upside down and in an uproar, shouting, ‘Solve this,’ but now, even if one or two people die, people quickly forget about it, saying, ‘Look who died.’”
It is said that slogans and words of war are often exaggerated, but these words were as dry as flesh clinging to the bones, and there was nothing to take away.
At 3:00 PM, Yumin's father, who had been holding out, left the tent.
Headed towards the Blue House.
Police radios blared loudly everywhere.
The ambulance followed along at a slow pace.
I finally took a short break in front of the splendid phoenix fountain.
He leaned on his cane and looked into the distance.
I took a deep breath and walked towards the civil affairs office.
The police who were following me were quick.
There was a loud fight.
The police there were fast and strong, wearing short-sleeved shirts.
Yumin's father, who had been out of the kitchen for a long time but was still breathing hard, could not endure the physical fight and turned back to the protest site.
On the first anniversary of the Sewol ferry disaster, many people cried.
Asking whether it was because of the person blocking the movement or the reporters who had gathered to take pictures was meaningless in front of the Ansan Hwarang Amusement Park.
It was the same with distinguishing whether the streams running down my face were tears or rainwater.
Young-seok's mother cried with her whole body.
Yonggyun's mother can often be seen at the front row of discussions and rallies aimed at preventing further deaths.
Still crying.
I crouch down in front of him and struggle to hold back those tears.



◎ Author's Note
Photos, especially media photos, are often rude.
Taking pictures often involves standing in front of people, but I'm shy so I hesitated to approach them.
I also felt that just holding the camera close was violent.
Still, I preferred to take photos by getting up close with a wide-angle lens.
I always thought about how close I could get to the subject and whether getting close was the right thing to do.
The distance from the subject was often proportional to the relationship.
Looking back, there were many more things I failed at because I didn't make an effort to get closer than things I failed at because I couldn't step back.
Even if there was nothing special going on, I visited the protest site every time I went there.
I was wondering if there was anything.
Well, there was something there, it was a place where people lived, so I listened to their stories.
When others are sad and crying, that's when the person holding the camera gets busy.
He forgot his regret and kept firing the flash.
I became numb.