It was the early 80s. I was driving down the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) in a shiny new BMW 320i. Steppenwolf’s "Born to Be Wild" was blaring from the Blaupunkt speakers, and I was soaking up every bit of my youth. I remember thinking to myself then: When I get old, I must remember this exact moment. Now that I am older, I truly do remember it.

Youth. It’s a feeling of having so much energy that you think you're Superman. It’s a time like an open highway with nothing standing in your way. The music of my youth was "real" music. It wasn't like today's rap—difficult to understand, devoid of melody, and unable to draw a single tear. A generation gap, I suppose. Back then, gas was less than a dollar, and you could buy four large paper bags of groceries for $20.

When I first came to America, my second-oldest aunt had already been living there for many years. It was thanks to her that our family was able to immigrate to the U.S. in 1970. The day after we arrived, she opened the door to the room where us three brothers were staying and gave us our American names. Since my Korean name is Jae-hwan, mine became "John." If you keep repeating "Jae-hwan" quickly, it eventually sounds like "John." She was a very clever woman. My aunt married for the first time at an age when she could have been a grandmother; she married a wealthy, generous, and kind American doctor.

One day, we were driving to "The Lodge" in Pebble Beach for a buffet brunch when my aunt pointed to a cool car filled with young people. It was a Porsche. She pronounced it "Porsha." That car became my dream car throughout my teens, though I was also interested in lesser-known brands like Lamborghini. However, after owning my BMW 320i for about three years, my illusion with cars shattered when every single warning light started coming on. I found out later that car companies design them that way on purpose just to sell more cars.

The moment of truth arrived, and I faced reality. Now, a car is just a set of "legs" that takes me from point A to point B. As long as I arrive on time, the brand or the journey doesn't matter much. Hyundai used to build cars like the "Pony." Now, they are a global powerhouse. Their premium brand, Genesis, is far more sophisticated than a Pony ever was. Yet, technological advancement has made operating cars more complicated. Korean cars have so many features now that I can’t even grasp them all. I just want a gearbox, a steering wheel, and I’m ready to go.

Then, I suddenly recall a memory from the 17-Mile Drive at Pebble Beach. A silver-haired couple was driving a gray Porsche convertible, their white hair fluttering in the wind. It was like a snapshot of "grace in motion." That was exactly who I wanted to be when I grew up: graceful and leisurely.

I live in Laos now. Here, only the ultra-rich drive Porsches, and sadly, I am not one of them. It’s just a thought, and thoughts change—but some thoughts linger. I am waiting for my thoughts to become clear, like Siddhartha sitting under a palm tree instead of a Bodhi tree. It’s not that I’m such a devout Buddhist who abstains from meat; I’m just trying to find myself in this troubled world. I suppose I have reached the "age of reason."

If I were to compare youth and cars to photography, the beginning is quite similar. You are brash and adventurous. But like a short matchstick, you burn bright and burn out fast. You just want to step on the gas and fly without knowing the fundamental principles of how things work. To do photography, you must first understand how a camera operates. You must understand the basics and the fundamentals. The camera is a product of the advancement of science and technology. It is a sophisticated machine, and depending on how you handle the user manual, it can make you either a professional or a novice.

When I was in the 7th grade in Boston, I was a standout basketball player on the varsity team. But my coach made me do nothing but run until I was completely out of breath. Basketball is a sport that requires bursts of energy, and those bursts must last the entire game. Being like Michael Jordan is nearly impossible. But back then, I realized the fundamental: I needed the stamina to last the game. It is the same with photography. You have to know the basics. You have to know your tool, the camera, and then how to use it. Once you reach that stage, you must learn COMPOSITION and CONTRAST, and you must understand the SUBJECT. From there, you just need to shoot tens of thousands of photos until you find your own vision—a vision that is singularly yours and yours alone.

It will take time, as all things do, but you will get there soon enough. If you move forward step by step, without obsessively counting the steps, you will arrive at your destination.

Time doesn't stop; it only moves forward.