There’s a short Korean children’s song, similar to an Italianfilastrocca with its art of rhymes, which roughly translates like this: “Monkey’s arse is red, red is apple, apple is tasty, tasty is banana, banana is long, long is train, train is fast, fast is a plane, plane is high, high is mountain.” Any apparent order of things is not as certain as it may seem. Similar to Benjamin’s propositions and surrealist projects, architect Hoon Moon questions the accepted categories and order of this world. For him, drawings are a manifestation of “creative terrorism”, opposing the monolithic and neutral world that institutions would have us believe is the only possible reality. 
Moon conceptually and physically challenges the commonplace notion of the architect and architecture. Never seen wearing black apparel like the majority of his Starck-esque colleagues, he prefers a red-hot F1 bodysuit. The son of a geologist, he grew up near a coal mine in Jeongseon, in the eastern part of the peninsula near Pyeongchang. Later he moved to Tasmania, following a complex formative itinerary thanks to his scientist father. He recalls observing the sublime and impressive sight of extracted coal falling from a conveyer belt into a vast, musky space where bright sunlight filtered through slits in the slate roof. Gastronomically speaking, he sketched out diverse architectural references in his diary from 1986 to 2010, describing an “Architectural dinner: my primary diet dish with psychedelic drink included”. With intentional misspelling and wordplay, a list of gastronomic ingredients reads like a recipe for a Korean bibimbap: visionary architects sauce, Jean Nouvelna, OMA dear, Lebbeus Woods ter, Meier sauce, Piano + Rodgers spice, Ando Tadao shi, Le Corbu sauce, contemporary fashion spice, Barragan, hanok, BIG, etc.