FamiLee Life

North Korea: Through My Father's Eyes

Earlier this summer, my father traveled to South Korea and had the opportunity to go on an organized, government sanctioned tour to a mountain resort in North Korea. It was his first trip back to what is North Korea since he fled at the start of the Korean War. That was over 55 years ago. Of course, he was still far from his hometown (which is north of Pyongyang), but I know it meant alot to him just to be on the same soil. Something he has yearned to do since as long as I can remember.

As a child, I remember how he sometimes would flip through this small, worn leather book that had photographs of friends and family in it. I think it was a school yearbook of sorts or a neighborhood directory. At any rate, these were friends and family from back home. He would tell me that this person was a cousin or that person was a school friend. Pining for connection with those who knew him best, while living in a world where oftentimes he felt few knew him at all, including his children who couldn't understand fully his experiences because of different languages, different homelands, and clashing values.

Upon his return to the States, he began to paint scenes from this trip, depicting the landscapes of the homeland he was forced to leave behind as a young man, still in his teens. This made me happy to hear that he was painting again. My father had stopped painting at the end of 2002 after my mother had died. I kept inquiring if he had started painting again but he always said that he was through with it, he had no energy, no motivation. This time, I understood. And as he has begun to paint again, I am able to understood my father at a richer, deeper level.

I wanted to share some of these images, so here are just two of them.

As some of you know (and others have read), my father was formally educated and trained as an artist but eventually found employment in America as a graphic layout artist and small business owner. Although he was constantly preoccupied with making enough to feed the family, put a roof over our heads and educate his children, he still always found time to pursue his art. Over time, art became his way to express his thoughts and emotions without words, accents, and eventual misunderstandings. It was his therapy for years of sweat and trauma that have surely left scars on his soul.

So I am thankful to have these paintings of my dad's homeland. These paintings give me another glimpse of my father's life -- his past, his losses, his yearnings, his dreams.

Posted by richlee at September 27, 2005 08:17 AM