In this poem, the writer ponders how many revisions God suffered to form earth. (published in Agape Review)

Who I am is an iteration of who I was. This work reflects that idea by combining processes and symbols of the past and the present. The piece uses an original Victorian photographic process-- cyanotype-- to print botanicals and foods (strawberries, chamomile, and salt and pepper) with a modern approach using UV lights and plastic transparency papers. The basis of the piece evokes Christian symbolism through the repeated threes, halo, and overall shape, representing the foundation of who I was growing up. Yet, the subjects and arrangement evoke an ecstasy and liberation that is present in my life today.

This piece reflects the creative process, depicting the iteration from sketching to thumbnails to the final two-panel spread. The final comic itself is split in half, and through this structure and various techniques (parallel panel composition, color selection), I explore the dualities of past and present, loss and recovery, friction and flow, the incomplete and complete. The narrative also tackles the theme of iteration; I wanted to speak on my experience of struggling creatively and what it feels like to work and iterate on a piece of art and the memories associated with that process.

Amma’s Love is a linocut print that explores the significance of history, tradition, and patriarchy through the lens of motherhood. It captures both the beauty and burden of maternal identity, functioning as a snapshot in time. In the leftmost corner, a stylized image depicts my grandmother holding my mother, anchoring the piece in personal history. The patterned tiles, visual chaos, and layered details of the kitchen are inspired by my grandmother’s home, intentionally woven into the composition to preserve memory and place. My vision for this work centered on embedding complex detail and subtle symbolism within what first appears to be a still portrait. Fine carved lines converge to form a powerful silhouette, encouraging reflection on stereotypical gender roles that have shaped society across generations and continue to persist today. Through this piece, I pay homage to the love, resilience, empathy, and quiet strength women contribute to our world. Amma’s Love celebrates mothers—not only for their tenderness, but for the cultural and emotional labor they carry. The work was created using the linocut relief printmaking process. Areas were carved away to remain blank, while ink was rolled onto the raised surface and pressed onto paper, functioning like a large stamp. This repetitive process allows for multiple impressions of the same image, reinforcing the generational theme of repetition and legacy. The royal blue ink was chosen to evoke the aesthetic of Mingware porcelain, referencing both its elegance and fragility—qualities that parallel societal expectations often placed upon women. The printmaking method itself was selected for its bold contrasts and tactile depth, aligning with my personal interpretation of strength emerging from constraint.

Abstraction evokes all of these emotions and gives us no where to place them, no face or event to attach them to. This tension is what brings us to tears. This lack of conclusion makes the work universal. A crowd of people standing in front of a single work will all feel differently– their minds will all go to different places. This is my hope for ‘the Priestess’, that you may see the orchid, but find no written conclusion & be left in whatever fog your subconscious mind creates ; death, nostalgia, relief, burial, fear, romance, hope, loss ...

I believe graffiti is a clear expression of iterative design. It is an ongoing process that balances solid and line, dark and light, opacity and transparency, the figurative and the abstract. On building walls, nothing is ever truly finished; a piece is temporarily complete until the surface is reclaimed by another artist. This work reflects my own iterative process, using color and line as variables to generate new forms and continual transformation.

In this work 'Arctic fox', I explore iteration as an act of attention. Built through repeated, deliberate mark-making, the Fox emerged gradually, each layer of charcoal lines first refining form, texture, and light. I returned to the same lines and surfaces over time, adjusting pressure and direction to better understand the fox’s presence rather than simply drawing it. The process mirrors learning itself: revisiting an idea with new sensitivity and wonder each time.

The Tech Tower in the background symbolizes the rich tradition and history that Georgia Tech is founded on. The GT logo repeating within itself represents the many years of Georgia Tech’s legacy and the many years still to come. Replacing “TECH” on Tech Tower symbolizes the ever-evolving, technology-driven institution, similar to the changing of the crest on North Avenue. The repetition of the logo within the larger form reflects how, over time, Georgia Tech has continued to show progress and innovation, constantly refining and perfecting the school and its campus.

In Change, we might remain unchanged on the surface, but we are constantly evolving into more sensible and perceptive individuals. This growth is shaped not only by our environment, but also by the choices we make. We could choose to remain within the cocoon, yet instead we decide to step beyond it and reach towards the unfamiliar in search of new opportunities. This transformation is not a single, decisive moment and much like iteration, it unfolds through trial, learning, and repetition. Whether our choices are right or wrong, what ultimately holds true is the necessity to continue moving through life.

This photograph of Svartifoss in Iceland captures nature’s rhythm of repetition and renewal. The basalt columns formed as molten rock cooled and fractured, while the long exposure turns rushing water into a soft continuum of time. I took it just before beginning my MBA at Georgia Tech’s Scheller College of Business, standing between two worlds, one closing and one unfolding. The image became a mirror of that moment, showing how beauty emerges through persistence, erosion, and patience. It reminds me that growth, whether in nature or in life, is never instant but shaped through many quiet iterations.

This photograph captures the momentary intersection of fading light and stillness at day’s end. The windmill, bathed in warm sunlight and complemented by looming hills and calm water, evokes a feeling of peace and tranquility. The last light both highlighted the landscape's most defining features while cloud cover shrouded the background in a dark, quiet mystery. The balance between the shadowed eastern hills and diffused light illuminating the west side left me awestruck. I remember feeling a deep sense of appreciation that I was able to witness and preserve such a beautiful scene.

Gestaltzerfall describes the psychological phenomenon of objects decaying into parts following extended viewing until the eye refocuses to the whole. In the piece, individually drawn blocks symbolize microscopically isolated events creating form through repetition—metronome clicks in musical virtuosity, a function within the backend, one transistor within a CPU. “Gestaltzerfall” accentuates iterative processes in humans similar to multiplex projects—a lifetime of unique experiences and challenges that form veils of complexity only perceivable through communal practice of Gestaltzerfall. The piece beckons a change in perception to deepen judgement by developing the understanding that one cannot see the whole without considering the parts.

In this work I explore iteration as both method and metaphor. Using algorithmic simulations of the Langford (Aizawa) attractor, a mathematical set toward which a dynamic system evolves, I visualize how revisiting and refining ideas drives transformation. The creative process often mirrors the behavior of an attractor. A project would go through a brainstorming phase that eventually converges on a stable idea. Occasionally, however, a tiny change, such as a new line or a different color, can send the entire work in a new direction. I chose colours that create a chromostereopsis effect to add perceptual depth. Ultimately, this work invites the viewer to see not just a final image but the trajectory of exploration with the periods of stability and the bursts of chaos.

This piece emerged from a process focused on collecting and layering images that resonated with me. I sourced photos from my Miami neighborhood and algorithm-generated suggestions from my Pinterest feed. From there, I worked on a digital canvas, sketching and shaping small forms, allowing the piece to develop organically without a fixed structure. I sketched, painted, and blended elements in a collage-like manner, revisiting different areas of the canvas, making adjustments, and letting the work evolve as I refined it. The theme of Iteration gained a more personal meaning when I revisited the finished piece and realized the face I had drawn was my aunt’s. I created this work shortly after my father’s sudden passing, a moment that heightened my awareness of the many parental figures who influenced me. Recognizing who appeared in the artwork shifted the entire perspective of the process. Every revision I made in creating this piece was not just about improving it, but also about uncovering memories, connections, and the relationships that still shape me. For me, iteration is a way of understanding how we revisit the people and ideas that have built us, seeing them anew with fresh eyes. In this sense, iteration is less a circle than a spiral, because every return meets a moment we cannot revisit in the same way.

"Life Matrix" treats a single lifetime as an iterative process. Each row marks an era, from conception and childhood at the top through young adulthood, middle age, and elder years at the bottom. Each column moves from the beginning of that era to its end. The most detailed portraits trace an anti-diagonal across the grid (top right to bottom left), suggesting how some transitions stay vivid in our minds while others blur and fade into abstraction. The final squares dissolve almost completely, hinting at the limits of how we can see our own futures amidst rapid technological changes coming soon.

On the theme of iteration, I believe there is no better iterator than nature, and on campus, there is no better nature than the ginkgo tree. I love the fan of their leaves, their blend of green to golden yellow, and the feeling of walking through a sea the day after a ginkgo drops their leaves. My piece hopes to capture the beauty that despite a 270 million year history of iteration, each year, each leaf on every gingko creates something new.

Chrysanthemums are a big part of Korean culture, and I was inspired by the beautiful ceramic pieces I saw online and in my studio. I wanted to capture the same feeling as the traditional Korean pottery that once played such an important role in our culture. As I worked, I realized my piece doesn’t have the same richness or depth as those historical works. It’s fully bloomed, but still adapting, just like me learning and growing through the process.

Algorithm Diary is an ongoing digital collage series created through the repeated collection and recomposition of personalized advertisements encountered on Instagram. All works are published on the account @algorithm_diary, which functions as an archive of more than 1,460 collages. This piece draws a small selection from that archive. Each collage emerges from a daily process of selecting, rearranging, and reworking images that briefly appear and disappear within algorithmic feeds. Through repetition and variation, iteration becomes a method for examining how algorithms shape perception, desire, and attention. By fixing these fleeting images into a single printed composition, I transform passive exposure into an active, reflective act that reclaims agency within algorithmic systems.

Things evolve through the iterations of chaos, but it will clear up.

Tectonic architecture defines ‘beauty in form’ based on the material, science and inner logic of the structure, where planes vary in depth and width to create iterative variations of spatial concepts. American Architect Louis Kahn once claimed that “ornaments are the adoration of a joint” and a designer can simply create an ornament from the structural unity of different planes. In this piece, I wanted to explore this concept of textural tectonics through various iterations of symmetry, figure ground reversal and spatial negatives, alignments and rhythm- ultimately showcasing how materials can be morphed to represent a unique textural quality that juxtapose with their inherent nature- turning fluidity into stillness through this piece. Compositionally, the work synthesizes divergent modernist grid philosophies—the harmonic armatures and flowing proportional systems inherent in Monet's atmospheric compositions with Mondrian's rigorous non-relational grid structures. This dialectic between organic harmony and geometric autonomy generates a visual tension that animates the surface, where repetitive juxtapositions and calculated perspectival shifts collaborate with shadow-play to suggest movement frozen in material stasis. The tectonic imperative extends beyond formal consideration: the entirely interlocking joint system—requiring no adhesive or permanent fastening—embodies architectural principles of assembly, disassembly, and structural integrity through pure material intelligence. Each connection becomes both functional necessity and expressive gesture, rendering the act of construction visible and celebratory. Ultimately, this exploration proposes that texture itself operates as a tectonic element—a spatial language where material, light, and geometry converge to challenge perceptual expectations and reveal architecture's capacity to transcend its own material conditions

The Dance celebrates and laments time and art. The cropping of the star in the center of the piece, representing a wheel of life, emphasizes the various limited glimpses we have—brief lives in limitless time, the boundaries of memory in those already minuscule lives, and the inherent ephemerality of the present. The battle depicted on the wheel represents the eternal process of trial-and-error in art and in life—attempts to reach perfection that can never be realized within the confines of deadlines and death itself. Life and art continue to besot us with their hypnotizing cycles of beauty and pain.

This self-portrait explores my identity as a process formed through iteration: repeated cycles of experience and change. The title 530, my birthdate, marks the beginning of this ongoing formation, suggesting that I am not fixed but continuously shaped over time. Each color represents a recurring version of myself shaped by different contexts: blue—my innate self (경윤), green—my life as a swimmer, pink—my adolescence in Korea, gray—my cultural roots, and yellow—my life in America (Lily). Layered within one figure, these selves accumulate, showing that iteration is gradual transformation rather than exact repetition.

A parti is the visual representation of a guiding architectural concept. My collection of parti models was motivated by a desire to explore the relationship between landscape, building, and movement in the context of a performing and visual arts high school. Behind each model, I aimed to highlight a unique reaction to the qualities of the site. Key features include elliptical circulation, modularity, terracing, and separation. Driving these iterations, I focused on creating thoughtful experiences of connection between spaces. For instance, how do enclosed spaces divide outdoor space, and how does the primary theater express itself to the surrounding context?

I’ve always found beauty in the moon, ever-changing, yet never absent. In Solace in Change, I painted my younger sister holding the full moon, its phases encircling her. Her youth fosters unguarded curiosity and a willingness to see the world openly, even as it changes. I began with the dark space, then built her world around her, layering oil over a burnt umber acrylic base for warmth beneath the cool moonlight. With this piece, I wanted to explore how something can transform yet remain familiar. Painting my sister made me reflect on how we find steadiness within change.

Growth can be measured in the simplest of ways. This rose represents the culmination of a creative process that begins with small dashes, evolves into lines, and unfolds through curves and twists and color until reaching its final bloom. The soft lines of early trials remain beneath the perfected form, a tribute to the iterations that shaped it. In my art, the rose embodies not only the growth of the piece itself but also the evolution of the creator through each step of creation, all with one simple line.

Our journeys are not linear, and instead involve iteration as we reflect on our own paths. This piece is about reflection, both literally and metaphorically. The star trails represent lived experiences, memories captured over time. Each path is unique. A figure stands on a mirrored surface, which immerses the individual in the stars above. This is a representation of how we grow: we inform our future with reflections of the past and present. This piece illustrates returning to the past, but with a new perspective that builds on itself through reflection, a cyclic process.

Untitled critically questions the relationship between design and AI. The image is a composition of photos taken by the artist and fed to an AI trained by the artist. The AI was trained to identify walls, floors, and cuts, then procedurally array these identities based on a spatial hierarchy. Untitled is reliant on digital iterations, but it is nothing without the initial human definition. This piece was coded as a practice of AI in design within Patrick Danahy's Fall 2025 studio.

Many works, both artistic and scientific, require several iterations to achieve something that satisfies its creator. I've found that a huge hurdle to clear in my experience is comparing myself to other successful creators when I'm still a beginner. I encounter loads of impressive work while reading academic papers or looking through social media, so I considered the ways I can be lured into a demotivated state by my phone. To illustrate this feeling, I painted an alligator snapping turtle - a large, aquatic predator of murky ponds and rivers. This animal uses a structure in its mouth to lure small prey close before snapping them up in an instant. In the same way, the comparisons I make between my own early iterations and renowned works of art and science can snap up my ambitions before I can truly gain the experience to reach their equal.

We stand on the shoulders of giants, who once looked up the night sky, who understood they were the night sky.

For this piece, I was inspired by the dot patterns I had been experimenting with in past works and wanted to create a piece that had a symmetrical psychedelic effect. I took an upcycled piece of ceramic and glazed it using different colored dots to create an annular pattern. This piece represents my patience and diligence when making artwork, as I often work very slowly and carefully. For this piece in particular, I spent such a long time adding the patterned glaze that when I finished working the sun had set, giving me inspiration for the title of the piece.

Memoryless is an exploration of a larger comic that tackles themes of friendship and memory in the context of shifting chapters in life. The character’s memories, personified by the orange creatures throughout the panels, parallels the loss of identity, sense of place, and ultimately a purpose in life. Similarly, the visual and artistic choices reflect the inability to revisit core memories. As the scenes become sketches, the character loses familiarity of the world around him. As this disorientation continues, the fidelity of the character collapses, rendering the character completely aimless as he wanders the streets memoryless.

My acrylic painting of "Invisible Man" explores the tension between presence and absence in individual identity and personality. A figure stands before a mirror, surrounded by illuminating lightbulbs, which are symbols of awareness and clarity. Yet, the reflection reveals only his dark clothing and bowler hat; his body remains hauntingly invisible. This surreal absence suggests a feeling of being unacknowledged or a psychological state where the true self is hidden beneath a projected appearance. Most importantly, it captures the universal human struggle for visibility and authentic self-definition. Hence, the composition contrasts the vibrant blue of the external world with the heavy, matte black of the obscured figure, highlighting the emotional weight of being simultaneously present and unseen.

Rootlight is a practice of listening—attuning to the sound roots make as they drink the dark. Meaning does not arrive whole; it accumulates through repetition, gathering resonance with every loop. From Pedro Paramo to One Hundred Years of Solitude to Faces in the Crowd, I trace how language builds shelter—when land, nation, or time cannot—through the recurring metaphor “living corpse”. Rulfo begins with death as the condition of narration: the dead speak because no living witness remains. Márquez’s ghosts return to defy erasure. Luiselli extends this, where ghostliness arises not from death, but from invisibility and displacement.

This photograph captures the journey of mastering a skill: embodying persistence and the cycle of practice that leads to perfection. The solitary paraglider silhouetted against a layered sunset evokes the experience of repeating a motion until it becomes second nature. Each flight, like each iteration in learning, builds upon the last, merging moments of struggle and triumph. The work invites viewers to reflect on how growth arises from persistent effort, and how beauty emerges not only from arrival, but from the ongoing process of becoming.”

“Old photographs – Iteration of presence” We capture moments hoping to catch the time that slips away. Looking at them later gives the bittersweet feeling of empty presence: the moment will never return, though we now possess the iteration of an emotion we lived through. Feeling in hold of the past, in turn, creates the iteration of one future's control. This artwork is a digital drawing of a black and white photograph I found in my grandmother's albums. After talking to her about what that moment was for her, I recreated the feeling by making the grief-toned nostalgia bright again.

This work is jointly shaped by memory, reality, and time. Created using juice extracted from North American pokeweed berries, it was completed and then left unexhibited, remaining sealed away for five years, during which the image continued to change without intervention. Iteration here does not repeat what was, but reshapes what remains.