The Observer is a mysterious figure that doesn’t always pay attention to Earth and humans. Sometimes, people try to get its attention, but it just looks past them at a glowing point far away, maybe beyond the universe. This connects to my own thoughts about existence and those moments in the dark when I see tiny flickering lights, like static on a screen. I imagine them as universes or planets that sparkle on my skin, floating in my room. The huge and the tiny, the cosmic and microscopic, are the same thing; everything is connected. It makes me think about what’s real, what’s uncertain, and our place in the universe.
It touches on big, universal questions that many people are fascinated by—things often explored in fiction, books, and movies. What is the nature of the world? What’s real and what isn’t? Are we living in a simulation? Are we being watched or even trapped? What exists outside the universe? And how is our everyday life connected to all of that unknown? I don’t think I can fully answer these questions, but I hope I might find some clues. Making art feels like a way for me to explore and document these thoughts.
I started this project by doodling in my sketchbook. Although I originally planned to make only two illustrations, I naturally began to tell a story through sequential images—so the idea slowly turned into something like a comic. I started with the image of the Earth on a table and worked backwards, sketching how my room transforms into the Earth and how it becomes more abstract during the process. From there, I moved on to designing the Observer and imagining how the room opens up and floats in space, being watched from afar.