Ever since elementary school, I’ve loved to make things. I didn’t ask my mom to buy me art supplies because I didn’t think like that. I just used what we already had around the house. If I found a notebook, I’d draw pretty girls and color them with crayons. Then I’d cut them out. Then I’d make clothes for them. Then I’d glue together a wardrobe to put the clothes into, and on, and on.
When I came to America in 1995, I bought a computer and started making flyers, brochures, and business cards for my friends.I was happy to be creating things and helping others.
When Feng Shui became popular, there were books and classes talking about interiors, colors, and crystal balls to hang on the ceiling. This was not what I understood as Feng Shui from my background in Korea and Hong Kong. Color and interior design are important, but that’s just like dressing up. I decided to learn authentic Feng Shui at the Blue Mountain Feng Shui Institute and used those concepts to design logos and business cards. It makes sense that there is a flow of energy in everything and this can also be applied to graphic design. I taught Feng Shui and became a consultant for home and business—designing logos, business cards, and flyers for clients.
When I met my husband, he opened a jewelry shop where we made custom jewelry. At about that time, my twenty-six-year-old son died. My world collapsed. I lived in deep depression for about five years until a ukulele, the healing power of music, and my husband’s encouragement brought me out of it. I’d never played a ukulele before. I needed posters for notes and chords to help me.Wanting something that would look more attractive on my wall than the plain charts found on the internet, I designed my own with beautiful graphics that made me feel good. These turned out so well that I started selling them. I was creating again! And because of my son’s death, my own struggle with depression, and the healing power of music, I began donating my prints to children’s music foundations.
Then along came my love of Hanji. Even though I was born in Korea, I didn’t know of this very traditional craft until discovering that my cousin was learning it. Traditional Hanji is beautiful! Hanji paper has the characteristic of strength and flexibility, which is expressed in the old words, “Silk lasts for 500 years, Hanji lasts for even 1000 years”. You can make paper textiles, traditional jewelry cases, dishes—even furniture! I wanted to learn more and travelled to Korea to work with an expert teacher.
When I came home, I played with Hanji paper and developed my own technique. I call it “Paper is my brush” because that’s what I do – paint with paper. I use paper and glue and nothing else—no paint or pen, and usually without scissors. Using tweezers, I pull each tiny fiber from the paper and glue it to my project. Even though it takes a long time, I find myself merging with the paper in a beautiful, creative meditation which fills me with peace and wonder.
Statement
It may sound strange, but I fell in love with Hanji. Hanji means Korean Paper. It ‘s made from the inner bark of Mulberry trees.
When I work with Hanji I become intimate with this paper so much that I know its temperament. It tells me which way is best to shape and lay it on or what it does not like. It is so soft, but also quite tough. Both characteristics I love about my friends.
The process of using tweezers to pull each strain of paper to create outlines or shapes little by little and watch it taking shape is so meditative. I have never felt this much joy of creating something as much as when I am working with this paper.
I will continue to keep making Hanji art and discovering more about Hanji. I hope that we will have this love affair for a long long time.