Fragments of a Northern European Journey

This is an automatic translation of the Korean original.

Staying in Holbæk

I visited the home of John, head of Moulton Bicycle Company. His small house is in Holbæk, a town on the outskirts of Denmark. Stepping into the garden at the front door, you find several small traces of a life prepared for the years of old age that remain. Inside, a warm glow wraps around a body gone cold. John's wife handed me a pair of thick socks, and in that coziness I soon grew drowsy. Over warm milk tea and Danish cake, we talked about the time gone by.

The two of them met in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and came all this way. In a city somewhere in Asia, a Danish woman and an English man met and decided to share their fate. And his final years became this clear, clear town where the fjord coast opens out. The town is so clear and quiet. With no noise made by cars and people, the sound of water, wind, and grass fills the air around me. I had thought I liked cities, but the harmony of nature draws my heart somewhere else.

To be standing alone in this town, through a connection with someone, feels like fate. On nature's palette I discover a new self within me.

Pas Normal Studios

Through a connection with Sune, who had visited Rubi Workshop in Korea, I was able to visit Pas Normal Studios, located in Stockholm. The view of the office in the heart of the city laid bare the brand's present tasks and future challenges.

Their attitude was consistent. Cool, and direct. The reason is that they clearly understand the goals and the limits of the mission they must accomplish. Perhaps that coolness is another expression of honesty. Working with Italians, you have to spend a lot of time reading their intentions, but with the Danes of Scandinavia there is no need.

Seeing how simply things were set up, by logic and by task, I once again gained good insight into team building. I was reconfirmed in my conviction that unless someone is at the managerial level, scalability cannot be expected.

On the Boat to Artipelag

On the boat to Artipelag, I am turning over the time that has passed. A city is the cradle of a person's thought. The time that flowed so quickly in Seoul flows slowly and solidly the farther I go, to London, Copenhagen, and Stockholm.

Time has a relative context, not an absolute meaning. Depending on the choices I make, time changes its grain. The reason time flows relatively slowly in travel is that I choose time meaningfully, on my own initiative. And because I am far from the noise.

If I fail to set this simple principle on top of daily life and work, a moment comes when money and time devour me. Simpler, and more solid.

The Grain of Good Light

June is the time of the white nights, when the sun is longest. That the light is transparent, clear, and bright can be felt with the eyes, and that feeling is projected directly into photographs. The Danes who have long lived in Sweden probably do not know how sensitive they are to color and its boundaries. Just as I did not know how large and grand a city Seoul is.

Beneath everything called Scandinavian design lies this transparent light and the longing for light that begins in winter, the shadow of the white nights. That sensitivity and longing gave astonishing life to lighting and objects. The reason brands from light-rich East Asia lack beauty is a lack of longing, and the reason brands born in Seoul lack edge is that the grain of the light is weak.

If childhood takes in this transparency and longing with the whole body, one becomes a wild horse of color. Every result is a necessity disguised as chance.

Thoughts After Visiting CAKE

First, second, and third: a setup for a good team. Without a clear philosophy of how to run money, time, and space for that setup, life ahead sinks further into the mire.

This is not simply the conceptual notion of hiring; it is deeply related to time. How deep and wide one's know-how about this setup is, fundamentally distinguishes the form of a company.

Many people know this simple fact and still look away. The reason is simple. Labor is powerfully addictive. One needs the practice of stopping work and settling one's breath each week.