The Art of Waiting: Notes on Free Time as an Actor in Korea
There’s a strange kind of rhythm to being an actor. In South Korea, where I’m based, that rhythm feels even more distinct. Auditions come suddenly. Calls for availability can arrive in the middle of a coffee or while wandering through a market. And in between all that? Free time. An unusual, quiet kind of free time that sits just outside the typical 9-to-5 structure.
It’s in those stretches that a lot of life happens—just not the kind of life people tend to associate with the film industry. I’ve come to value that downtime not as empty, but as open. Open for observing. For wandering. For sketching ideas that might never become anything. For reading things I wouldn’t have chosen last year. For painting, when the mood takes me.
I don’t always share those things. Not everything has to lead somewhere. But lately, I’ve started posting bits and pieces—visual experiments, color studies, that kind of thing. Here’s a link to a little side space where I keep some of them.
South Korea has a pace of its own. Fast and slow at once. There’s this beautiful contrast between the rush of Seoul and the slower, quieter moments when you’re just… waiting. Not in a passive sense, but in the way you wait for something you know might be meaningful. I’ve come to think that a lot of acting isn’t just in the moments you’re performing, but in the long stretches of not performing. Of becoming.
This isn’t a behind-the-scenes expose or a grand artistic philosophy—just a reflection on the in-between. The part we don’t talk about much. The part I’m learning to appreciate more and more.


