This composition reflects the inspiration drawn from the story of the haenyeo (sea women) and their vocalizations called "sumbisori", the piece's title. For hundreds of years, women from Jeju Island in Korea, known as haenyeo or sea women, have earned their livelihood by hand-harvesting seafood from the seabed. Instead of using breathing equipment, they wear old- fashioned, headlight-shaped scuba masks. So they dive and hold their breath until they get out of the water. Their typical dive lasts about two minutes, during which they can descend to depths of up to 10 meters. To help them sink more quickly, they carry a 20 kg, basketball-sized tewak strapped to their waists.

To me, the haenyeo reflect and intersect with the images I have of my mother and grandmother. They are portrayed exactly as they are: tired and breathless. However, simultaneously, they embody incredible mental and physical stamina because the work itself is so dangerous. Every day, they cross the fine line between life and death, epitomizing a profound duality—a blend of incredible strength intertwined with human fragility. The haenyeo resurface and sing sumbisori first, signaling their comrades to quickly exit the water. The life of the haenyeo is a community that relies on each other in rough waters.

In this piece, I created musical materials from the images derived from the narrative of the haenyeo. Over the course of the piece, some scenes depict the dark depths of the sea, others convey the urgency to ascend from the water, and some portray moments of serene relief. All these diverse elements stem from sumbisori, the central theme of the piece, creating a unified and lasting imagery.