Return of the Genius Photographer

“Jung Woong! Thank you so much. I absolutely love the photos.”

Natalie’s smile was as radiant as ever.

After a few days of shooting, we were finally done. As she reviewed the photos, her face lit up with a beaming smile.

“I was just doing my job. The photos turned out well because of the model,” Jung Woong replied, laughing nonchalantly.

The photoshoot for Natalie’s personal photobook had been completed under Jung Woong’s skillful direction, and everything had gone smoothly and quickly.

Other than the time spent traveling, the shoot itself was seamless.

I’d like to think I contributed by supporting him and helping reduce the shooting time, but ultimately, it was Jung Woong who was in control.

Thanks to that, what was initially planned as a five-day shoot ended in just three days, giving us some free time to enjoy ourselves.

Travel isn’t just about reaching a destination; it’s a reward in itself.

There’s a quote attributed to Steve Jobs from his deathbed—though I’m not sure if it’s true—that echoed my thoughts right now.

Everywhere I turned in Australia, something new caught my eye.

The sights felt like a gift in themselves, so much so that the worries I had before coming here seemed trivial in comparison.

I pressed the shutter happily.

Click!

Click!

Click!

Queensland, Australia, filled with peace and leisure, was like a playground for me.

From the bustling coastal cities to the breathtaking natural landscapes, from the rare emus and koalas roaming about to the relaxed people taking breaks in small towns, every corner had something to capture.

Jung Woong and I traveled around the entire region, stopping wherever we felt like taking pictures. There was no goal or expectation—just the sheer joy of photography.

How long had it been since I took pictures without any pressure?

Thinking about it, this might have been the first time since I bought my camera. Until now, I had always been shooting with a purpose, as if chasing something.

While I didn’t hate or regret that, I had to admit the pressure had been building up. After all, I still had a long way to go, and the path I’d traveled so far felt short in comparison.

But look at the people here—so carefree.

On the beaches, in quiet parks, even at shabby gas stations, people smiled with genuine happiness.

Happiness isn’t something far away.

I rediscovered that here.

Yes, I am a happy person. Maybe even the happiest person in the world.

After all, I had experienced a second chance at life, and I was carefully building a new future with the knowledge and experiences of my past.

Just as this journey in Australia felt like a reward, so too was my life itself a grand gift.

I had forgotten that until now.

“Wow!”

“Look at that!”

Suddenly, a group of people caught my eye.

A man was performing tricks near the ocean, juggling flaming objects and breathing fire to the crowd’s delight. Some people sat on the curb, others stood close by, and a few sat further away on benches, watching from a distance.

Though they were of different faces, races, and backgrounds, they all wore the same expression of joy.

I wanted to capture that. I wanted to share this moment of happiness with others.

With that thought, I pressed the shutter.

Click!

The familiar sound rang in my ears, and with that, our shooting in Australia came to an end.

*

A red Jeep raced down the empty road.

We were on our way back to the hotel for the last night. The wide, long road was empty—no other cars, no streetlights. The only light guiding us came from the Jeep’s headlights, but it didn’t feel dark at all.

“Look at the sky.”

Above us, countless stars shimmered in the night. A sight that was nearly impossible to witness back in Korea—the Milky Way stretched across the sky, glowing a brilliant white.

I raised my head at Jung Woong’s words and found myself speechless, captivated by the scene unfolding before me.

I thought I’d already seen plenty of beautiful things in Australia, but to think there was still something like this left.

“How is it? This is why I love Australia. The stars are incredibly clear here, unlike in Korea, where you have to go out of your way just to catch a glimpse.”

“It’s beautiful,” I replied softly, my eyes fixed on the Milky Way.

Slowly, I blinked, as if trying to etch each and every star into my memory.

“Aren’t you going to take a picture?” Jung Woong asked, sounding puzzled by my stillness.

“It’s strange. You’ve been pressing the shutter all day.”

He couldn’t understand why someone like me, who hadn’t missed a single opportunity to take a photo, was so quiet now.

I gave a small nod and answered, “I want to leave this one for later.”

“Later?”

“Yeah. If I save this shot for the future, it’ll give me something to look forward to when I come back. For now, I just want to hold this view in my memory.”

There are subjects that aren’t meant to be captured immediately—pictures that are better taken after time has passed. Like a fine wine that needs to age, some photographs need to ripen within the photographer.

This moment before me felt like one of those. Maybe I wasn’t ready yet to fully capture the essence of that Milky Way.

At times like this, rather than forcing myself to take a picture, it’s better to let time do its work and wait for the right moment. The lingering sense of longing will deepen, like the richness of wine, until the moment is fully ripe. And when that moment comes, I’ll return here.

To capture the perfect shot, sometimes you need to set the camera down.

With that thought, I fiddled with my camera for a moment before finally letting it rest.

“Heh… you have a way of catching me off guard,” Jung Woong said suddenly.

“Sorry?”

“Haha… no, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

He seemed like he wanted to say something more but then shook his head, dropping the matter.

For a brief moment, I was curious about what he had on his mind, but I didn’t press him.

Instead, I focused on the scene before me.

The stars brushed against the wind.

***

“It’s your last night before departure tomorrow. Make sure to get some rest.”

“Yes, thank you, Photographer Jung Woong. You’ve worked hard too. Have a good rest.”

We had returned to the Sunshine Coast and found a place to stay. The flight was scheduled for tomorrow evening, meaning we’d need to head to Brisbane Airport when we woke up. It seemed like a good idea to take it easy, just as Jung Woong suggested.

Still, during the three days of free time, I had managed to take far more photos than I initially planned.

‘Maybe I’ll just relax, transfer the photos to my laptop, and do a bit of editing.’

With that thought, I spent my last day in Australia transferring the photos to my laptop and editing them.

― Attention passengers, flight AB123 to Kuala Lumpur at 8 PM has been delayed due to severe weather…

Listening to the announcement in English, I passed the time in the airport lounge, feeling a bit restless. We had returned the Jeep earlier than expected and arrived at the airport far too early.

Bored, I wandered around the airport, but even that grew tiresome, and soon I found myself sitting idly again.

‘I should’ve spent more time outside.’

Time felt like it was crawling, and the boredom made the hours stretch out endlessly. Brisbane Airport was large, filled with people, but lacking anything to keep me entertained.

‘There’s got to be something to kill time with…’

As I looked around the lounge, my eyes fell on a neatly arranged pile of magazines and booklets for the passengers.

‘Guess I’ll read those.’

I grabbed whatever was available—fashion magazines, newspapers, pamphlets, you name it. I read without much preference until my gaze stopped on one particular magazine.

‘World Traveler? They have this in Australia too?’

World Traveler was a well-known travel magazine from the U.S., featuring stunning photography of travel destinations worldwide.

I knew it was published internationally, but I didn’t expect to find it here.

As I flipped through the pages, nostalgic memories of studying photography flooded back. I had spent hours with this magazine during that time, drawing inspiration from its vibrant images.

Then, something caught my eye—a submission email printed in one corner of the magazine.

‘Submission? That’s right, I hadn’t considered that.’

It completely slipped my mind. Travel magazines like this often accepted photo submissions from photographers. It was a mutually beneficial system—the magazine got quality content, while photographers received recognition and sometimes payment.

‘Why not? I should submit something.’

I’d been wondering what to do with all the photos I’d taken in Australia, and now I had the perfect idea.

I immediately pulled out my laptop and navigated to World Traveler’s submission page. As expected, there was a form for submissions, likely because of the high volume they received.

I copied the form into an email:

Name:
Nationality:
Agency:
Agency Contact Information:
Email:

It was a simple form. I attached some of my best photos and began filling out the details.

Name: Woojin Nam.

But something didn’t feel quite right.

I erased the name.

Name: _

The blank cursor blinked at me as I hesitated, thinking for a moment before typing a different name.

__

K_

Ka_

Kai_

Kai. It was the name I had used during my overseas work—a nickname that had been called more often than my real name in my previous life.

I hadn’t used it since my return, but for some reason, it felt more natural to write it here.

With a satisfied smile, I filled in the rest of the form.

Nationality: South Korea
Agency: Jung Woong Studio.

‘I don’t officially belong to an agency yet, so I’ll just put down Jung Woong Studio for now.’

Satisfied, I clicked the send button, watching the screen patiently as the slow internet dragged on.

― Your submission has been sent.

Once the confirmation message appeared, I closed my laptop with a sense of accomplishment.

“It’s time, Woojin. Let’s go.”

At that moment, Jung Woong announced that it was time to leave. With a contented smile, I packed up my laptop and boarded the flight back to Korea.

***

In the dead of night, as Woojin’s flight crossed the skies, Walter, the editor-in-chief of World Traveler’s Australia branch, stood by his office window, lighting a cigarette while gazing at the city lights.

He was exhausted.

Taking a deep drag, he let the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling it with a heavy sigh.

“Oh? Editor, you’re still here?”

“Where would I go? I haven’t been home in three days,” Walter replied gruffly.

Though Walter was still in his mid-thirties, his rapid rise to the position of editor-in-chief was exceptional. Yet, it seemed that the higher he climbed, the more draining the job became.

“Don’t tell me… you’ve been reviewing photo submissions all this time?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going to burn out at this rate.”

“I’ll rest. Tomorrow morning. But no matter how much I go through, the submissions never end.”

Walter’s tone was curt as he responded to his concerned team member.

World Traveler was a magazine that covered travel stories from around the globe. Originally launched in the U.S., its global popularity had led to the establishment of branches in various countries. And of all those branches, Australia boasted some of the highest sales.

With untouched natural landscapes and rare wildlife everywhere, Australia was nothing short of paradise for travelers. Because of this, the number of photos submitted monthly was staggering. In fact, World Traveler Australia prided itself on having the most photo submissions, not just among their global offices, but across all travel magazines.

This immense workload was why Walter couldn’t afford to rest.

“See, I told you I’d help out…”

“And even if you did, I’d still have to go over everything myself.”

“Honestly… your health is more important.”

His teammate clicked their tongue in frustration. Walter’s problem was that he was too capable. He was, without a doubt, a workaholic. The term fit him like a glove.

“So, have you found any photos that you like?”

Knowing Walter wouldn’t take a break, the team member tried shifting to a more positive topic.

“No, they’re all rubbish.”

Walter’s blunt reply left no room for argument. He stubbed out his cigarette and resumed flipping through the submissions at a brisk pace.

“Well, I’ll stay and help until morning.”

“Fine,” Walter muttered dismissively, his eyes moving rapidly over the images. His expression remained indifferent, as if nothing could catch his interest.

But then—

“What?”

His hand suddenly froze on the mouse. He had come across a photo that made his eyes widen.

“What is it?”

Ignoring his colleague’s question, Walter stared intently at the photo. Then, he checked the name of the photographer who had submitted it.

“Kai?”

It was a name he hadn’t heard before.

‘Nationality… South Korea?’

Even more unusual was the photographer’s nationality. It wasn’t often that a Korean photographer submitted work to World Traveler Australia. In fact, this was a first for Walter.

While it wasn’t uncommon for him to like a photo from an unfamiliar artist, it was intriguing that the submission came from a country as underrepresented in the magazine as South Korea.

“Affiliated with Jung Woong Studio… Jung Woong… why does that sound familiar?”

As Walter tried to piece together where he had heard the name before, he called over his team member.

“Do you know a photographer named Kai? He’s from Korea.”

“How would I know a Korean photographer?” his colleague responded, puzzled by the odd question.

“Never mind, I’ll forward the email to you. Look into him.”

“So, you finally found a photo you like?”

“Yeah. If all goes well, we might even get out of here early.”

Walter smiled at his colleague, who returned the grin before asking, “What was the name again? Kai?”

“Kai,” Walter confirmed with a short nod, adding with more certainty, “Yes, Kai.”