© Jaime Permuth, 2025
What makes me proud of my kids? Nearly every day they give me a reason. But most often it’s their growing mastery of language. I say: “did you see that red car?” And Luca answers: it was burgundy. Or I point to “that man wearing a blue jacket” and Olin suggests: maybe indigo, papi.
Gets me every time.
You go on vacation to get away - but also to get closer.
I will miss Yangyang, Hajodae and Goseong and the quiet time with my family by the shore.
But a busy Fall season awaits in Seoul!
For the past ten years, curating the i3 Lecture Series for the Masters in Digital Photography Program at the School of Visual Arts was a great joy and an important aspect of my professional life. I’m so pleased to have curated an exhibition of seventeen wonderful artists who are all past presenters of the series.
The exhibition titled “On Turning 10: An i3 Family Album” opens on September 18th in Brooklyn as part of this year’s edition of Photoville.
Featured artists:
Jon Henry, Richard Renaldi, Tommy Kha, Gabriel Garcia Roman, Elinor Carucci, Valerio Spada, Robin Schwartz, Lissa Rivera, Pixy Liao, Lucas Foglia,Tema Stauffer, Gerald Cyrus, Inbal Abergil, Cecilia Paredes, Muriel Hasbun, Jennifer McClure, Chris Verene.
Luca and Olin, it’s time to go…
Guys, let’s get going…
Vamos gordos, we need to go back and have some dinner…
Mami will make something delicious for us…
Maybe there will be ice cream? Let’s go!
oK… a bit longer then…
but we go in five minutes!
We’re always the last to leave the beach.
And the boys still cry when we do.
The past few weeks were all about cramming for my Korean language Finals at Kyounghee University, which I passed! Officially, I’m no longer a “Beginner” but I’m still far from being able to talk about art and culture. However, I can handle small talk with strangers at the beach and making myself understood.
Now that the semester is over we are taking a few days break by the shore in Yang Yang, on Korea’s beautiful Pacific coast.
Countryside, early AM. A green brown smell of leeks and horse manure hangs in the air.
I cross paths with a grim-faced, rail-thin octogenarian riding a rickety old bike.
On the way back we meet again, this time he’s barreling downhill towards me. His face is open in a wide toothy grin, gleeful, like a child.
If I say: Luca, did you save a hug for Papi today? He looks for his brother and hugs him instead.
When we sit at the table, if Olin’s chair is not positioned right, Luca gets down from his own and pushes it into place.
When Luca serves himself from a plate, he serves his brother as well.
If he likes his food, he turns to Olin and says: try this, it’s delicious!
When Olin cries, Luca stops whatever he’s doing, considers the situation and tries to make things right.
Olin’s creative spark, his sense of adventure and his free spirit are a constant inspiration to his brother.
Twins will fight every now and again. Perhaps about the toy they both want at the same moment, or about who gets to go first at doing something new.
But even when they do fight, they’re back to being best buddies in a heartbeat.
If Luca was able to write a love letter it wouldn’t be meant for HRM or I.
The envelope would read: Olin.
This week I reached my first one thousand kilometers bicycling in Korea. I hope there’s thousands more to come!
Back in May, when I arrived in Seoul, my first priority was to buy a bike. After much searching, I got myself a Merida hybrid and loved it from day one. A year and a half of pandemic lethargy had taken its toll; my first ride I peaked at 20 kms.
Today I rode 115 kms to have the famous “tak galbi” grilled chicken for lunch in the town of Chuncheon.
A few months back, if anybody had said to me that I would be riding 100 kms I would have laughed them right out of the room.
I’m still very much a rookie at this sport. But today this rookie is celebrating!
If you get up at 5:30AM to have a heart-to-heart with your best friend or watch the sunrise from a public bench, I already love you.
What to expect from me in 2045.
연습
자전거를 탈까요?
자전거를 탈래요?
자전거를 탈거에요?
자전거를 타지요?
자전거를 타도 되요.
자전거를 타지 마세요.
자전거를 타세요
자전거를 타러 가요.
자전거를 타려고 해요.
자전거를 탈 때
자전거 타기 전에
자전거 타긴 후에
자전거를 탑시다.
자전거를 타고 있어요.
자전거를 타고 싶어요.
자전거를 타야 해요.
한 번 자전거를 타보세요
The day before moving to her new apartment, my wife’s mother asked if I could give her a hand cleaning up a few odds and ends at the new place. Moving is always exhausting - emotionally and physically - but she was gracious enough to oblige me when I asked for a couple photos to mark the occasion.
The strangeness of having to pause and consider spelling before writing my own name.
I admit: I love them too much. Guilty as charged.
But every little milestone gets to me. Watching them brush their teeth on their own before bedtime? I remember when they still didn’t have any teeth at all. And it wasn’t all that long ago, and it feels like a small miracle. And sorry for being such a fool but I can’t really help myself.
Sometimes I wonder, how many other dads out there are in the same place as I?
That last day in Brooklyn was surreal, trying to hold on to New York, my home of thirty years, the city where I met the love of my life, the birthplace of Luca and Olin.
It’s hard to uproot yourself. It’s requires a leap of faith to let go of one’s certainties. But it seems to me that artists have always understood that we come from the unknown and that - to some extent - we place our bets on the mysterious and unforeseen to help us find ourselves.
Some goodbyes take a piece of your heart with them.
