I am an artist who makes paintings, drawings, prints, and sculptural ceramics. I am a middle-aged immigrant Korean woman and mom of a 14-year-old biracial teenager. I am also a full-time professor. Atlanta is the city where I have lived the longest besides my hometown of Daegu, South Korea. We live in a suburb called Doraville, at the end of the Atlanta metro system’s Gold Line. Overall, I have chosen the American suburban life with my family, while trying my best to be an active artist.

We live in a ranch-style house with a large family entertainment room in the basement that I turned into a painting studio. The only change I made was to remove the carpeting. I also have a ceramic studio, which is located in a former woodshop that the previous homeowner built in the basement boiler room. My workspace is on the hill side of the house, and from it I can access the backyard and garden.

My dad, who lived in Korea, used to tell me that Atlanta is a sister city of Daegu. I doubt there was anything going on between the two cities, but I understand why he kept talking about it—he wanted to relate to us closely. I get it, because I also find myself constantly trying to make connections between Korean and American cultures. It became my habit to collect relatable images, products, stories, and people. For example, my hometown is known for producing apples, and Atlanta is known for peaches: this iconic fruit often appears in my work.

Starting with the idea of linking East and West, my adventure in connecting things is constantly manifesting. Old and new, Gen X and millennial, Korean mulberry paper and acrylic paint . . . It became my mission to hybridize different things to make new and odd things in my art practice.

Connecting Work, Family, and Mediums
I have had studios outside of my house, but it was never ideal. I spent too much time driving back and forth, and paying rent for two studios was a lot. I needed a place where I could take care of my family, get rest, eat, and work all in one place. I like having my studios at home. While I am working, I can hear my son taking a shower and my two dogs running around rambunctiously—and I can smell what my husband is cooking upstairs. It can be distracting. Sometimes I have to yell through the ceiling for everyone to be quiet, but I love this setting.

I find my peace within chaos. When I know my family is doing what they need to do, I can better focus on my work. My brain and body have adopted disruption as part of the creative process, and it has been this way for more than a decade. I don’t try to carve out the perfect moment to work, because that does not exist in my world. However, I confess I am a night owl and work best when everyone else has gone to bed. I am finally left alone after 10 p.m. Sometimes I find myself up until 3 a.m. working. I finally get into my zone and my process is moving, and alas, I cannot stop until it gets late.

I like to play the same movies or K-dramas on Netflix over and over for background noise. Sometimes I do watch, but most of the time I am just listening because I have seen what is happening already and it does not require my full attention. Plus, this is the way I keep track of time. I have played the Netflix series Ugly Delicious (featuring star chef David Chang) several times. Recently I have been watching Somebody Feed Phil. The show takes us to different cities and countries to learn about food and culture. It is warm and funny and full of jokes. Have I told you how I learned English? It was by watching Friends and You’ve Got Mail nonstop.