A Traveling Story

Interview with Dayeon Auh, author and illustrator of The Three-Year Tumble

In The Three-Year Tumble (Spanish edition: Un tropezón de tres años) a grandfather thinks he is doomed when he tumbles down Misfortune Mountain. This Korean folktale however, retold and illustrated by debut artist Dayeon Auh, teaches readers that a journey is not always clear-cut, and that fate can be interpreted in many ways. In this interview, Dayeon invites us into her artistic process and discusses how she relates to the characters and experiences in her New York Times/New York Public Library Best Illustrated book of 2025.

When did you know you wanted to become an illustrator?

I’ve been drawing constantly since I was around twelve or thirteen. Even back then, I knew I wanted to go to art school and that I wanted a life where I could draw every day–and that really hasn’t changed. Illustration felt like a way for me to continue making art and also survive as an artist.

I’ve always found it a bit tricky to name myself: Am I an illustrator, or am I an artist? I think many artists feel this in-between space. When I’m working with stories and text, I’m an illustrator. But when I’m simply drawing or painting and showing my work in exhibitions–without direct storytelling–I’m an artist. So I’ve learned that I can be both. It actually took me a long time to feel comfortable calling myself an illustrator and artist, but now I embrace both identities.

It actually took me a long time to feel comfortable calling myself an illustrator and artist, but now I embrace both identities.

How did you come across the original story “The Three-Year Mountain Pass” and why did you choose to retell this tale?

“The Three-Year Mountain Pass” is one of many Korean folktales I grew up hearing. We have so many stories that begin with the phrase, “When the tiger was smoking a pipe . . .” which is our version of “Once upon a time . . .” 

What I liked about this story is that it wasn’t focused on “the older person is wiser, so listen to them,” which is often the case. And because folktales are meant to evolve, be modified, and spread, I felt free to reinterpret it. I made the doctor a woman, the grandchild a girl, and gave the grandfather playful living companions like a goose and a tiny giraffe.

What really touched me was its message: optimism, questioning what we’re told is “right,” and imagining that things could be different–and that this message came from a younger generation. It felt like a story that deserved to travel widely.

What media did you use to illustrate The Three-Year Tumble? Did you know you wanted to use this media from the start, or did you play around with different materials?

When I began the project about three or four years ago, I was in a big acrylic phase. I loved the rough texture and fast, energetic brushstrokes. So acrylic paint became the foundation of the artwork.

On top of that, I layered colored pencils, oil pastels, soft pastels, and graphite. I still use all of these today, just in different balances. My studio table keeps getting smaller because I love trying as many materials as possible–I think I need a bigger table!

Experimenting is a huge part of my process, and I always visit art supply stores when I travel. At the moment, I don’t work digitally. I love having physical materials in front of me–touching them, testing them, and seeing the artwork exist as an object.

What are some things in your life that inspire your artistic style and perspective?

Visiting art book fairs, children’s book fairs, and zine festivals across Europe, where is I am currently based in, and picture books are my biggest inspirations. They feel like lively markets of creativity–full of new ideas and artists supporting one another. I’ll be visiting and participating in Korean art book fairs for the first time this year, which is exciting!

I’m deeply drawn to books as an art form. You can hold them, spend time with them, create your own experience with the images. I realized this is where my artistic identity belongs–making art books and children’s books, telling stories visually.

I also collect many art books (maybe too many!), and I’ve especially been drawn to some experimental France-based artists’ books. And like I mentioned earlier, materials themselves inspire me–colors, textures, the immediacy of the first intuitive drawing. So I keep drawing, experimenting, staying curious.

How does it feel to know that your debut book was published in German, English, and Spanish simultaneously?

When I first heard the news, I felt like “What?”–and also honestly surprised. I think the surprise was the strongest feeling. But after that moment passed, everything just stayed very normal. I don’t really check what it means or what kind of journey the book is having out in the world. I still don’t fully understand what it means, and that’s okay I guess.

I’m the kind of person who forgets things quickly and always returns to my everyday life: drawing, working on new projects, reading my picture books again and again, participating at art markets. So I am very grateful—but also still processing it, maybe slowly. And then I just keep drawing.

I relate to the granddaughter in that I’m an observer. I often wish I were more of a doer–someone courageous enough to question things. That’s one reason I love the story: it encourages me to be more like her.

Whose perspective do you relate to more in the story–the grandfather or the granddaughter?

Honestly . . . neither exactly. I’m definitely not the grandfather–I would never remember a prophecy that I’d die in three years! My great talent is forgetfulness, which actually makes me very optimistic. If someone predicted something negative, I’d probably forget it immediately.

I relate to the granddaughter in that I’m an observer. I often wish I were more of a doer–someone courageous enough to question things. That’s one reason I love the story: it encourages me to be more like her.

But maybe I’m actually one of the grandfather’s animal companions–the goose or the little giraffe–standing quietly beside the people I love. If you’re happy, I’m happy. If you’re sad, I’m sad. A supportive friend on the journey.

Thank you for these insights, Dayeon, and congratulations on your award!