From people who sat at the table
Stories
These notes name the sitting and the sheet. They are recollections from students, not a score for the room.
I brought a KOSPI weekly sheet I had been coloring for two years. Seorin made me redraw one zone three times because I was tracing a high from a thin week and calling it structure. By week six I could say which monthly close still held the zone and which one I had invented. The printed pack stops in the late nineties for a few sheets, and I wish the older decade had been in the roll.
I left the first clinic annoyed that nobody would write a price target on the copper sheet. On the second visit I brought my own levels and Minjae spent the hour asking which weekly close actually defended them. I still want the target written down. I also stopped arguing with the daily bar, which was the part I did not come in planning to give up.
We stayed on the monthly USD/KRW sheet for most of the seventy-five minutes. I had expected a list. I left with two pencil lines and a date.
Eight weeks · KOSPI weekly sheet
The zone that had to be redrawn
Eunji Park arrived from Suwon with a weekly KOSPI roll she had been coloring since 2023. The color marked every swing high she could remember having felt. In week one Han Seorin asked her to point only at monthly closes. Most of the color had no close inside it.
The zone that survived was redrawn in weeks two and four. Each time the band moved because a close Eunji had treated as a wick turned out, on the monthly sheet, to be the actual settlement. By week six she could say which close still held the zone. She also noticed the printed pack did not carry every sheet back through the late nineties. She asked for the missing decade. Minjae could print some of it and not all of it, and the notebook records that gap instead of pretending the roll was complete.
She still attends a notebook clinic twice a year, bringing the same cloth book. The original colored roll stays in a drawer at home.
Two clinics · copper sheet
The target that stayed off the page
Marcus Hale, who lives in Busan and studies in English, booked a notebook clinic with a copper chart he had marked for a year. He wanted a number written at the edge of the page. Park Minjae would not add it. The hour was spent on which weekly closes defended the levels Marcus had already chosen.
Marcus came back three weeks later with the same request and a calmer pencil. The target is still not in the notebook. He says the daily argument got quieter anyway, and that he has not decided whether the missing number is a fault in the clinic or a fault in the way he wanted the page to look. The room left his account of that in his own words on this page.