This journey began with the documentary Long Way Down.
Actor Ewan McGregor’s 24,000-kilometer motorcycle trip from Scotland to Cape Town left a lasting impression on me.
There was something compelling about surrendering oneself to the road without knowing what lay ahead.

Inspired by that image, I decided to embark on my own road trip.
Instead of Scotland, I would depart from where I live—Lampang, Thailand—crossing into Laos, then Cambodia, and finally returning to Thailand.
Riding a motorcycle wasn’t practical, so I chose a 4WD off-road vehicle instead.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure whether a Korean national driving a Thai-registered car could even cross international borders in this region.
But I decided to step onto the road anyway.
I believed the road would show itself once I started moving.

Southeast Asia is familiar to many—but not when experienced through unplanned overland border crossings.
Driving across borders, I encountered a very different rhythm of life—unfiltered, quiet, vivid.

I carried only one camera and one lens. No heavy equipment. No ambition to create grand images.
It was a lighthearted journey, and I intended to let it be just that.

But looking back at the photographs, I found they were more than just records.
The camera had become both a window and a mirror:
A window into unfamiliar everyday life, and a mirror reflecting parts of myself I had not faced in a long time.
The air, the light, the scents, and textures of the road—they returned vividly through the images.

This exhibition is a visual diary of that journey—snapshots of Southeast Asia’s ordinary, extraordinary days.
Quiet but rich, saturated with color and contradiction.
Each country—Thailand, Laos, Cambodia—felt distinct, even though they may seem similar from afar.
Move closer, and the textures change.
Beneath each surface were layers of emotion, memory, history, and humanity.

I hope this exhibition conveys even a fraction of those textures.
Though my photos and words may be modest, I hope the sincerity and breath within them come through.
At the end of the road, I made a quiet vow:
To keep walking. To keep making work like this.
To myself, and now—to you.

Winter 2024, Lampang
Hakbong Kwon