The More I Dot, The Less I See

This portrait depicts Yuwon Lee, my ice hockey coach, mentor, and someone I deeply admired. Although it is his face, I titled it a self-portrait because, during my time as a player, I was trying to become him, copying his every move. The way he demanded perfection instilled in me a devotion to discipline and repetition, a mindset that continues to shape how I create art. The reference image is from his profile photo when he was a national player, a time when I dreamed of reaching the same stage. In drawing him, I was drawing the version of myself I once aspired to be. Pointillism demands patience, discipline, and repetition, the same traits I once sharpened on the rink. I began with a realistic portrait of my coach, but then reversed the process, overlaying it with white dots. These dots symbolized my desire to forget the part of myself that once lived for ice hockey. Once the portrait faded, I began again, this time with black dots, repeating the act to express the duality within me: the ache to return, and the need to move on. This cycle of layering and erasing continued until his image became veiled, nearly lost. Up close, the surface thickens with time, each speck a fragment of effort, memory, and ambition, suspended in a long goodbye. Creating this piece was not just a tribute, but a reckoning. In every dot, I measured what I gave up, and what still remains. Art can't restore the past, but it can name its absence. What's left isn't a portrait of him or me, it's a documentation of an artist still learning how to let go.