GUESTS IN THE OTHER ROOM – ADORE GALLERY

Welcome, and thank you for visiting my modest gallery tucked away in a quiet corner.

Here you will find a variety of my works—large and small, diverse in character and spirit. I arranged them in this way because, seen together, they may give you a clearer sense of who I am.

To be honest, I often feel my lack of formal training and the limited time I have been able to devote to art. Yet I continue without pause—feeling, learning, and growing in the process.

I am not a master of any single field, nor do I belong wholly to any place. Take what you see as it is, and carry with you whatever impressions remain. Though I began in earnest later in life, I have always sought to keep faith with my first intent—to let neither results nor criticism define me, but to follow the quiet integrity of my own path in art.

At times, a sudden impulse led me to submit small works to competitions, and a few were recognized. In Korea, I once taught art at a high school for about ten years. In 2009, after twenty years of living in Australia, I returned to Korea, where I now work as a sculptor. That, in essence, is the whole of my artistic journey.

I have no interest in heavy philosophy. What moves me are the kinds of impressions that feel like music, and the vivid realities that the world tirelessly brings forth.

I love travel and every kind of documentary, and hold special respect for the creators of BBC Earth, whose programs I watch with admiration. And one thing is certain: without music, I imagine my veins would carry nothing but plain water.

Perhaps artists are simply those who live in the busy square between the entrance of expectation and the exit of fulfillment.

Even if you arrived here by chance, I am grateful.

Yoonki Hong
Born 1952

Blog

August 27, 2026

Poems & Writing

GUESTS IN THE OTHER ROOM

I have come to the beach
I had pictured for so long
What catches my eye
is sand lifted by the shovelful

Warm and fine—
but sand cannot be strung on a thread
Inside, I am all seashells

They gleam more brightly
among the foam
My pockets are deep enough

I think of the lovely ones
their translucent hearts
showing through a little
I slip them safely into my pocket
and pull the zipper shut

They are the ones
to whom I will offer only a sifted heart
the ones who will wait
outside a little door
the ones to whom
I will only fall deeper in debt

The sands of the world
and the stars of dreams—
there is no harm
in leaving them behind

My final ride home
will soon be here

with no time left to squander
I must add what little I can
to the fullness of their days

My true guests
shown into the other room

may perhaps

still be waiting

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