I came upon this corner of Seoul during one of my expeditions. Tucked in alleyways of Mullae-dong are blacksmiths, some of them who’ve been there for decades. Despite the bright sun shining above us, these men toiled with dark, heavy steel under the sparking forge. They only raised their faces for breaks, when they would fill their lungs with cigarette smoke after cigarette smoke. In the air around them, I couldn’t help but feel a heaviness, one that I didn’t yet know. Yet even in this separation, I knew that their labor was driven by an unyielding purpose: they are fathers and husbands with families to sustain. This monumental responsibility is mirrored in their hefty toil, which I strive to encapsulate in my frames.