Sehwa Youn, of Seoul-based bakery Confetti Yard, works out of a small studio kitchen, where a custom-built speaker doubles as her counter. Suspended overhead, a luminous sign brightened the room, while odds and ends and culinary tools hung from pegs on the wall. My eyes scanned upwards and did a double take. I was surprised to find sourdough speakers perched on top—actual bread, nailed in place!

Using food as her medium, Sehwa turns crackers into Egyptian pyramids, cakes into bars of soap, and meringue into elaborate sculptures—all edible, of course. A surrealist? A sculptor who bends reality with sugar and flour? Or simply someone revelling in a childlike sense of play. All of the above, I think.

Initially just a hobby, Sehwa baked out of her family’s kitchen until her mother said no more. In 2022, she found a creative space, officially launching Confetti Yard. When asked about the inspiration behind her studio name and its imagery, she explained that it represents a place where ideas take shape—exploding like confetti in a riot of colour and possibility. With a background in sculpting, Sehwa’s eager to merge her artistic instincts with baking, fully embracing the freedom to create without limits or restraint.

Admittedly, pursuing her art and building something of her own hasn’t been easy, and every day comes with its share of worry and fear. Still, her love for her work keeps her moving forward. Isn’t that a feeling so many artists know well? Scared, nervous, and sometimes full of doubt, yet we push through quietly, finding strength in our work. Sehwa’s journey, like that of many artists, reminds us that creation is often driven by quiet perseverance. And when joy leads the way and we show up for our work, things often have a way of working themselves out.

Instagram @confetti.yard

Vulnerable Works is about the quiet courage of making. At its core, this project is deeply personal. Through these conversations, I seek perspective and ways to navigate feelings of doubt, uncertainty, and the tension between vision and reality. These stories weave my reflections with those of the artists, offering a glimpse into the process, the trust it demands, the triumphs that keep us going, and the vulnerability inherent in creating. Sometimes I pick up a little more—the songs that fill artists’ studios, bits of their daily routines—but always, I return with photographs.