In the year I was drafted, there's a drastic change in me. The original me was substituted by another self. Different from the old one, the new self realized he is just a transitional existence. To retain this change I decided to make record of them. The memories faded after my discharge. And I reorganize those records to ponder the monstrous impact happened in myself.
I arranged these records into a book with a gray-black tone and there is no white color in it. It symbolizes the nights watching the sea and expressing the situation with other social rules in which there is no black or white, right or wrong. The only color left is gray. It is an obligation. Of what? What do I suppose to protect? I am not yet having any answer.