Legend has it that years ago a dragon lived upon the largest island amongst an archipelago in the East Sea. Upon ascending to the heavens, it destroyed all but two islands, leaving behind Ulleungdo and Dokdo.

A Korean proverb teaches that three generations must accumulate virtue to visit Dokdo.  Once getting past that first step the second challenge becomes crossing the sea; ferries are often turned back and held in the port, and on the best days even the strongest of sea legs would find the crossing unforgiving. 

Isolated out in the East Sea, nearly a perfect halfway divide between South Korea and Japan, the turmoil of these islands’ history is equal to that of their birth in that legend, anchored down in centuries of conflict between the neighbouring nations.

Dok-do, meaning solitary island, somehow had the power to flood me with its loneliness. Now not only far from my home in England, but separated from the mainland and the home I had built over the last three years. Seeing the hauls of squid tugged ashore took me back to the North East coast of England, where I had given up a chance to be so I could make this journey.

This work pays homage to the locals who have blown in from the mainland and stayed despite the isolation, moving with the ebb and flow of the tides, etching their own stories into the rocks. And for rocks themselves that have remained unmovable.  - Jonjo Borrill