art
as my
outlet
I was 8 months old when I arrived in the U.S. I was born in South Korea, but raised in Upstate New York. Growing up, I always knew that I was adopted, but I never truly understood what that actually meant. The questions began in elementary school. I didn’t think there was anything different about me until both my friends and classmates began to ask questions. First, my appearance was constantly scrutinized, especially since I did not resemble my parents. I was always questioned about this in particular. It didn’t feel like it was coming from a place of genuine curiosity, but rather “why are you not like us?” The idea of being different absolutely terrified me because that meant I couldn’t belong. I began to grow wary of my looks and would avoid the topic ‘adoption’ in fear that I would be rejected if anyone were to find out. However, keeping this a secret was truly painful because I felt like I was erasing my authentic self all for the sake of fitting in.
I needed a safe space where I could be vulnerable and express myself, so I turned to art. Once I began to use art as an outlet, I felt like I was becoming stronger because I didn’t have to hide or put on an act. Making art is like having a shoulder to cry on during a time of loss, confusion or sadness. For me, it has and always will be the only way that I can truly heal. My art allows me to escape reality while also encouraging me to face my fears. After years of hiding and self-destruction, I’ve decided to finally put away the mask because I am proud to embrace that this is who I really am. I am an adoptee, but that doesn’t make me unworthy because I have found people who have accepted me. Furthermore, I’ve seen that my art has the ability to reach people and make those who have similar stories as me feel connected and that we are not alone. My hope is to inspire others and to convey the importance of embracing your individuality.
found
yet
lost
portrait studies
watercolor
earlier Work
mixed media
until we
meet again
A clock that can never slow down, but does not reveal its time symbolizes my internal struggle to let go of a painful past. In a time-based piece, I grieve, reflect and honor four important women who have made an impact in my life: my birth Mother, foster mothers, and my adoptive Mother. I was only 21 years old when my Mother unexpectedly passed away. I was at an age where I needed my Mother's guidance more than ever. I was told that time would heal everything and that eventually, I would find happiness again. Several years have gone by and her absence still feels like a fresh open wound. Whenever I think of my Mother, I am overwhelmed by this tremendous feeling of emptiness because I haven’t seen her in such a long time. After years of carrying this sorrow, I've learned that we don't actually heal over time as our loved ones are irreplaceable. Instead, we grow numb and we learn how to survive and persevere through dark and difficult times.
