My practice is driven by a series of hyper-fixated anxieties informed by my Korean, American, queer, and Christian identities—identities around which I was long confused as a result of my experiences growing up in-between a variety of sectionalized communities.
Materiality and texture form the basis of my work. I use markers of ancient, traditional, and contemporary Korean art forms, such as 한지 Hanji (traditional mulberry paper) and 보자기Bojagi (ancient quilted textiles), to make work that, in many ways, parallels the work of Frankenstein in creating his monster—a stitching together and reviving of the formerly repressed and seemingly disparate parts of myself.
All of this is mirrored in the nature of the materials I work with, such as paper and textiles: at first glance, they appear to be discrete and stable, yet upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that they are actually fragile compositions of many small, interconnected parts, in continuous flux. Much of my work is a kind of micrography; I zoom in on the minutiae of surfaces to explore the ways in which the apparent order of material can become a confused mess under close visual interrogation, just as our own sense of self might fragment and become muddled the closer we look.