top of page
Mixed Media Art
_edited_jp.jpg)
Mixed Media Art
&
Printmaking
I read books like my life depends on it.
What about you?
Mokuhanga, 3 x 4 inches, 2022, $15.
Radical Self-Care (Saying No)
Mokuhanga, 2022, 3 x 4 inches. $25.
Why is it ''radical'' to say no? The definition of radical is ''favoring extreme changes in existing views, habits, conditions, or institutions'' (Oxford dictionary). For some of us who identify as women and/or people of color, we are conditioned and expected to say yes when others ask for help. We are supposed to gladly accept an opportunity when it's given by the dominant group (sometimes without pay). We are expected to agree when the dominant group demands us to support their decisions. Saying no feels risky for some of us who hold marginalized identities. And that's the very reason why we must practice saying no so that we free ourselves more from the societal conditioning to serve the needs of the dominant group over our own needs. We are allowed to use our energy and time to help ourselves and our own people.
Why is it ''radical'' to say no? The definition of radical is ''favoring extreme changes in existing views, habits, conditions, or institutions'' (Oxford dictionary). For some of us who identify as women and/or people of color, we are conditioned and expected to say yes when others ask for help. We are supposed to gladly accept an opportunity when it's given by the dominant group (sometimes without pay). We are expected to agree when the dominant group demands us to support their decisions. Saying no feels risky for some of us who hold marginalized identities. And that's the very reason why we must practice saying no so that we free ourselves more from the societal conditioning to serve the needs of the dominant group over our own needs. We are allowed to use our energy and time to help ourselves and our own people.
Back and forth between two languages
Mixed media collage on a wood panel, 2022, 8 x 8 inches. $250.
Being bilingual is like swimming between different waves constantly, back and forth x1000 a day. Scraps of paper used for this image come from papers used by my daughter as I taught her Japanese alphabets, frottage from wood plates I carved for mokuhanga (Japanese woodblock print), and prints with mishaps.
Being bilingual is like swimming between different waves constantly, back and forth x1000 a day. Scraps of paper used for this image come from papers used by my daughter as I taught her Japanese alphabets, frottage from wood plates I carved for mokuhanga (Japanese woodblock print), and prints with mishaps.
A relationship
Mokuhanga (Japanese woodblock print), 9 x 6.5 inches. 2022. Limited edition of 5. $185.
As we spend time in a relationship day and night, waves of emotions come in and out. It's not so much about how to problem-solve the waves. It's more about finding growth in ourselves and in the relationship itself through riding the waves together.
As we spend time in a relationship day and night, waves of emotions come in and out. It's not so much about how to problem-solve the waves. It's more about finding growth in ourselves and in the relationship itself through riding the waves together.
Artmaking is empowering
Woodblock print, 3.5 x 2. 5 inches. $15.
You can't push me down; I know how to swim
Mokuhanga (Japanese woodblock print, hand-pulled and printed with water-based ink), 3.5 x 4 inches. $45
Life of a transplant
2022, printmaking (Kamihanga), 17.5 x 12 inches, $200.
Using the metaphor of a tree, this image describes my life as an immigrant. A resilient plant can grow by finding available space to root itself. It does not wait for an ideal place to grow, since such space may never become available. Rather, it grows where it's planted by finding space and light.
Using the metaphor of a tree, this image describes my life as an immigrant. A resilient plant can grow by finding available space to root itself. It does not wait for an ideal place to grow, since such space may never become available. Rather, it grows where it's planted by finding space and light.
Finding water inside of a stone
2022. 12 x 16.5 inches. Printmaking (Kamihanga), $180.
If you split a stone open, what does it look like inside? Is it solid all the way through? Or are there traces of water and memories of where it has been? Using water and stones as metaphors, this image describes how one can acquire strength and firmness from past experiences. A pool of tears can generate compassion for others.
If you split a stone open, what does it look like inside? Is it solid all the way through? Or are there traces of water and memories of where it has been? Using water and stones as metaphors, this image describes how one can acquire strength and firmness from past experiences. A pool of tears can generate compassion for others.
Inner children waiting
2022, collage with monoprint papers, 9 x 12 inches, $325.
Inner children are parts of us who never grew up. They hold all the memories and emotions from our life experiences. Often times our inner children's voices shed light on our unmet emotional needs. Attending the unmet needs help us to heal and grow.
Inner children are parts of us who never grew up. They hold all the memories and emotions from our life experiences. Often times our inner children's voices shed light on our unmet emotional needs. Attending the unmet needs help us to heal and grow.
Looking ahead
2022, Mixed media with monotype on wood panel, 7.5 x 7.5 inches, $270
The image captures my hope for the future, as the woman at the center looks far with binocular.
The image captures my hope for the future, as the woman at the center looks far with binocular.
Invitation to look beyond #2
2022, Mixed media on hardboard, 3.5 x 5 inches, $120
The younger self knows
2022, Gel plate monotype, 9 x 7.5 inches. $420
Joy may be found in the places where we are not focusing. In this image, a blue bird is used as a symbol of joy and hope. Often times the younger self can point out where we need to look for the blue bird. The younger self asks: Who were we when we were younger? What were we like before we were expected to take care of others? Before becoming a life partner to someone or a parent? Before having obligations and responsibilities? My younger self tells me to make art because art making is how I find joy and hope.
Joy may be found in the places where we are not focusing. In this image, a blue bird is used as a symbol of joy and hope. Often times the younger self can point out where we need to look for the blue bird. The younger self asks: Who were we when we were younger? What were we like before we were expected to take care of others? Before becoming a life partner to someone or a parent? Before having obligations and responsibilities? My younger self tells me to make art because art making is how I find joy and hope.
At night
2022, Gel plate monotype with color pencils, 9 x 7.5 inches, $350.
If women waited for recognition and accolades to move forward, we would have been unable to advance as far as we have. The woman in this image rows under the moon, a place where others are not around to witness her movement. She is not passive; her boat moves forward because she continues to row no matter what’s in the water and how the waves strike her. Perseverance creates the muscles we need to build resilience within ourselves.
(Selected as a part of the juried exhibition FEMINIST INSIGHT: Telling Her Story at The Ellington-White Contemporary Art Gallery)
See the link here for the exhibition info:
If women waited for recognition and accolades to move forward, we would have been unable to advance as far as we have. The woman in this image rows under the moon, a place where others are not around to witness her movement. She is not passive; her boat moves forward because she continues to row no matter what’s in the water and how the waves strike her. Perseverance creates the muscles we need to build resilience within ourselves.
(Selected as a part of the juried exhibition FEMINIST INSIGHT: Telling Her Story at The Ellington-White Contemporary Art Gallery)
See the link here for the exhibition info:
An invitation to look beyond
2022, Collage with gel plate monotype, 7.5 x 9.5 inches, $250
Assumptions and stereotypes in the society try to put women in a box. The “should” statements about women discourage women to value their uniqueness. This image is an invitation for all women to look beyond what’s projected onto them. We women are more than what others expect us to be. We are more than just a daughter, wife, mother, or grandmother. We are deeper than the ocean and brighter than the stars in the night sky.
Assumptions and stereotypes in the society try to put women in a box. The “should” statements about women discourage women to value their uniqueness. This image is an invitation for all women to look beyond what’s projected onto them. We women are more than what others expect us to be. We are more than just a daughter, wife, mother, or grandmother. We are deeper than the ocean and brighter than the stars in the night sky.
Between you and me
2021. Gel plate monoprint and watercolor. 8 x 10 inches. $450.
The image describes an interaction between two individuals whose backgrounds differ greatly, myself and another. Our intersecting identities along lines of race, gender, culture, ethnicity, and other more subtle categories affect our everyday communication.
You and I may look like we are talking about the same thing, but are we? How do our intersecting identities, mine and yours, shape my perception in the conversation with you? How do your identities affect your own perception? How do we come to understanding?
(Selected for the virtual art show "20/20 in Hindsight--Coping, Confronting, and Creating Change," June 5 - August 31, 2021
https://www.atgallery.art/ )
The image describes an interaction between two individuals whose backgrounds differ greatly, myself and another. Our intersecting identities along lines of race, gender, culture, ethnicity, and other more subtle categories affect our everyday communication.
You and I may look like we are talking about the same thing, but are we? How do our intersecting identities, mine and yours, shape my perception in the conversation with you? How do your identities affect your own perception? How do we come to understanding?
(Selected for the virtual art show "20/20 in Hindsight--Coping, Confronting, and Creating Change," June 5 - August 31, 2021
https://www.atgallery.art/ )
Who I am and Who I am not
Set #1 (Top) 2021, Gel plate monotype, 12 x 18 inches, $280.
Set #2 (Bottom) 2022, Gel plate monotype, 12 x 18 inches, $325
These sets of images explore the impact of racial stereotyping and---as witnessed through the Atlanta shootings in 2021—the toll it takes on Asian women’s lives. The silhouette on left depicts a profile of Geisha, symbolizing the stereotype of Asian women as sexual objects. In reality, Geisha women do not provide sex as a part of their work. The silhouette on right is of a Kokeshi doll, symbolizing the stereotype that Asian women are “cute like a school girl” and have no opinions of their own. Sandwiched between these two is my own silhouette, which does not resemble either one.
By creating this set of silhouettes, I invite viewers to gain awareness of their stereotypical beliefs. Instead of seeing others through harmful presumptions, I want to see a society where we see each other as unique and complex human beings.
(#1 was on display at the juried exhibition "No Justice, No Peace," at James Wise Gallery, Norfolk State University, from 10/15/21 to 12/3/21)
Set #2 (Bottom) 2022, Gel plate monotype, 12 x 18 inches, $325
These sets of images explore the impact of racial stereotyping and---as witnessed through the Atlanta shootings in 2021—the toll it takes on Asian women’s lives. The silhouette on left depicts a profile of Geisha, symbolizing the stereotype of Asian women as sexual objects. In reality, Geisha women do not provide sex as a part of their work. The silhouette on right is of a Kokeshi doll, symbolizing the stereotype that Asian women are “cute like a school girl” and have no opinions of their own. Sandwiched between these two is my own silhouette, which does not resemble either one.
By creating this set of silhouettes, I invite viewers to gain awareness of their stereotypical beliefs. Instead of seeing others through harmful presumptions, I want to see a society where we see each other as unique and complex human beings.
(#1 was on display at the juried exhibition "No Justice, No Peace," at James Wise Gallery, Norfolk State University, from 10/15/21 to 12/3/21)
Conversing with a bird
2021, Gel plate monotype, 10 x 8 inches, $180.
The bird has perched on a branch to share its story about what it saw, how it felt, and what its experiences mean to it. When the conversation is done, the bird flies back out into the world. The bird is my clients and the figure is my therapist self. As a therapist, my role is to invite my clients to share their stories. Therapy is not a place of permanent residence. It’s a place for them to unburden themselves, heal, and grow, so that they can live their lives. Some come back for more rest, nourishment, and care. Others are ready to fly away after a few visits. I often think about my clients after they leave the branch. I wonder how they are doing back out in the real world, and I send them my well wishes in my prayers.
The bird has perched on a branch to share its story about what it saw, how it felt, and what its experiences mean to it. When the conversation is done, the bird flies back out into the world. The bird is my clients and the figure is my therapist self. As a therapist, my role is to invite my clients to share their stories. Therapy is not a place of permanent residence. It’s a place for them to unburden themselves, heal, and grow, so that they can live their lives. Some come back for more rest, nourishment, and care. Others are ready to fly away after a few visits. I often think about my clients after they leave the branch. I wonder how they are doing back out in the real world, and I send them my well wishes in my prayers.
Assimilation
2020, mixed media with monoprint on a wood panel, 11 x 7 inches, $345
(Displayed at the juried exhibition Facing Forward, Light Art Space ,Silver City, NM, October 10th, 2020 – January 2nd, 2021)
The image describes the phases of cultural assimilation. Cultural assimilation is a process in which individuals from minoritized cultures merge into the dominant culture. Through the process, minoritized individuals would end up erasing their own cultures for the sake of mastering the dominant culture. There is a false belief spread by the dominant culture that being White means better. In my case, this belief was communicated in Japan as a truth due to Japan’s relationship with the U.S. after WWII. The belief was also reinforced by my experience in the predominantly White community after my move to the U.S. The image depicts the assimilation process that I experienced as an immigrant in this country. The bottom house in the image is yellow and the Japanese writings inside is clearly visible. As I move up the ladder the house becomes more white with only a faint trace of Japanese writing inside.
(Displayed at the juried exhibition Facing Forward, Light Art Space ,Silver City, NM, October 10th, 2020 – January 2nd, 2021)
The image describes the phases of cultural assimilation. Cultural assimilation is a process in which individuals from minoritized cultures merge into the dominant culture. Through the process, minoritized individuals would end up erasing their own cultures for the sake of mastering the dominant culture. There is a false belief spread by the dominant culture that being White means better. In my case, this belief was communicated in Japan as a truth due to Japan’s relationship with the U.S. after WWII. The belief was also reinforced by my experience in the predominantly White community after my move to the U.S. The image depicts the assimilation process that I experienced as an immigrant in this country. The bottom house in the image is yellow and the Japanese writings inside is clearly visible. As I move up the ladder the house becomes more white with only a faint trace of Japanese writing inside.
Think again
2021, Mixed media with monotype and image transfer on wood panel, 11 x 7.5 inches, $285.
The mainstream American belief that more is better appears to be the major barrier to achieve equity in this country.
In this image, forks compete to secure a larger portion of the pie — apple pie, of course, which signifies America and its resources such as lands, wealth, opportunities, and education. Since the days when European settlers brought apple pie recipes to the American landscape (along with their colonial mentality), the ingredients needed to make the pie (the food and the successes it represents) have been harvested from these lands stolen from Indigenous people. Indigenous communities get hardly any recognition for this fact and are rarely allowed to claim a fair share of the pie.
In my opinion, “more is better” is a colonial mentality which continues to permeate American society. Do we really need more to feel happy and content? Do we need that much?
The mainstream American belief that more is better appears to be the major barrier to achieve equity in this country.
In this image, forks compete to secure a larger portion of the pie — apple pie, of course, which signifies America and its resources such as lands, wealth, opportunities, and education. Since the days when European settlers brought apple pie recipes to the American landscape (along with their colonial mentality), the ingredients needed to make the pie (the food and the successes it represents) have been harvested from these lands stolen from Indigenous people. Indigenous communities get hardly any recognition for this fact and are rarely allowed to claim a fair share of the pie.
In my opinion, “more is better” is a colonial mentality which continues to permeate American society. Do we really need more to feel happy and content? Do we need that much?
Homeless at home
2020, mixed media with linocut print and a book, 6.5 x 11 x 1 inches, $250
The image came to my mind as I listened to a presentation in 2006 by Dr. Ken Hardy, who is a professor of Family Therapy at Drexel University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and Director of the Eikenberg Institute for Relationships in New York City. A home is a place to feel safe and free. In his presentation, he used the phrase “homeless at home” to describe how some of us do not have a true home because of the societal oppression and racism.
In my artwork the bunnies are afraid. They are pushed into a small house, and the house is buried into the hard structure of the textbook. Bunnies stay close to each other and stay alert—because that is what animals (and humans) do when they have to survive.
The social work textbook used for this artwork is my own from the graduate school I attended 15 years ago. I am an art therapist and a clinical social worker. My job as a social worker is to change the situation of “homeless at home.” In the last 15 years of my clinical work, it has become apparent to me that the White centered traditional approaches do not effectively address problems experienced by my clients of color. I needed to transform the textbook into an artwork in order to symbolize this realization and also to question its usefulness to serve people of color.
The bookmarks, which were purchased from former clients, represent hope. These clients transformed themselves through art therapy sessions with me. They cultivated their artist identities through art making—to express themselves freely. These bookmarks remind me that art can reach people’s hearts and empower when all else may fail.
The image came to my mind as I listened to a presentation in 2006 by Dr. Ken Hardy, who is a professor of Family Therapy at Drexel University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and Director of the Eikenberg Institute for Relationships in New York City. A home is a place to feel safe and free. In his presentation, he used the phrase “homeless at home” to describe how some of us do not have a true home because of the societal oppression and racism.
In my artwork the bunnies are afraid. They are pushed into a small house, and the house is buried into the hard structure of the textbook. Bunnies stay close to each other and stay alert—because that is what animals (and humans) do when they have to survive.
The social work textbook used for this artwork is my own from the graduate school I attended 15 years ago. I am an art therapist and a clinical social worker. My job as a social worker is to change the situation of “homeless at home.” In the last 15 years of my clinical work, it has become apparent to me that the White centered traditional approaches do not effectively address problems experienced by my clients of color. I needed to transform the textbook into an artwork in order to symbolize this realization and also to question its usefulness to serve people of color.
The bookmarks, which were purchased from former clients, represent hope. These clients transformed themselves through art therapy sessions with me. They cultivated their artist identities through art making—to express themselves freely. These bookmarks remind me that art can reach people’s hearts and empower when all else may fail.
A yellow house on the White ground
2020, mixed media with monoprint, 8 x 9.5, $180
A yellow house is printed on a page copied from the Japanese-English dictionary I bought before I moved to the U.S. in 1998. This dictionary is still with me. It shows the wear and tear of heavy use, especially heavy during my time in college and graduate school, when I pushed myself to speak and act like white Americans — I used to define “success” as being like them. The white thread stitched around the outline of the house symbolizes my attempt to secure a place for myself in the small, predominantly white community in Iowa in which I first studied. During my four years of living in this town, I never felt free from judgement of my skin and accent, which is why the stitching is incomplete.
The stitching binds the yellow house to the background sheet. The white printed over this background symbolizes the white culture that dominated the town. Because the town was built on land that used to belong not to white people but to the Sauk, Meskwaki, and Wahpeton tribes, I purposely left some parts of the ground unprinted, in order to show its base color.
The Japanese writing in the yellow house appears faded where the white paint begins to conceal it. This partial concealing reflects my experience of assimilation. Through the process of assimilation, marginalized individuals let go of their own cultures in order to survive in the dominant culture. For marginalized individuals in the U.S., assimilation is a survival strategy to live in the racist society.
A yellow house is printed on a page copied from the Japanese-English dictionary I bought before I moved to the U.S. in 1998. This dictionary is still with me. It shows the wear and tear of heavy use, especially heavy during my time in college and graduate school, when I pushed myself to speak and act like white Americans — I used to define “success” as being like them. The white thread stitched around the outline of the house symbolizes my attempt to secure a place for myself in the small, predominantly white community in Iowa in which I first studied. During my four years of living in this town, I never felt free from judgement of my skin and accent, which is why the stitching is incomplete.
The stitching binds the yellow house to the background sheet. The white printed over this background symbolizes the white culture that dominated the town. Because the town was built on land that used to belong not to white people but to the Sauk, Meskwaki, and Wahpeton tribes, I purposely left some parts of the ground unprinted, in order to show its base color.
The Japanese writing in the yellow house appears faded where the white paint begins to conceal it. This partial concealing reflects my experience of assimilation. Through the process of assimilation, marginalized individuals let go of their own cultures in order to survive in the dominant culture. For marginalized individuals in the U.S., assimilation is a survival strategy to live in the racist society.
Turning the past into compassion
2020, gel plate monotype with mixed media, 5 x 5 in., $175
(Displayed at the juried exhibition Divulge! , d’Art Center , Norfolk, VA, Sept – Oct 2020)
Many of my prints and paintings depict my emotions. They also describe the attempt to understand myself, others, and experiences. A lot of experiences and events in life do not make sense right away. Art helps me to process them and extracts meanings out of them. Why did I feel the way I did? How am I supposed to make space for difficult experiences in my past? Are there hidden messages in the emotions I am feeling? What plan does the universe have for me? Throughout my life, art has been the place for me to get answers for these questions. They help me make sense out of what happened and what is happening.
(Displayed at the juried exhibition Divulge! , d’Art Center , Norfolk, VA, Sept – Oct 2020)
Many of my prints and paintings depict my emotions. They also describe the attempt to understand myself, others, and experiences. A lot of experiences and events in life do not make sense right away. Art helps me to process them and extracts meanings out of them. Why did I feel the way I did? How am I supposed to make space for difficult experiences in my past? Are there hidden messages in the emotions I am feeling? What plan does the universe have for me? Throughout my life, art has been the place for me to get answers for these questions. They help me make sense out of what happened and what is happening.
Understanding the Self
2020, gel plate monotype with color pencils and gel pen, 5 x 5 in., $175
The process of finding who we are and what life means is not linear. This is the reason why I like using the word “explore” for myself and in therapy with clients. We grow when we explore.
The process of finding who we are and what life means is not linear. This is the reason why I like using the word “explore” for myself and in therapy with clients. We grow when we explore.
Departing under the starlight
2019, Gel plate monotype. (Sold).
(Displayed at the juried exhibition When Darkness Falls: Night Exploration, Annmarie Sculpture Garden and Art Center, Solomons, MD, October 11, 2019 – January 20, 2020)
I experiment the most with the gelatin print technique among all art media I use. With gelatin print making, I don’t have full control over how images would turn out, and this makes it easier for me to surrender the urge to control. As I arrange plant leaves, stems, and paper stencils over the gelatin plate and ink, I feel excited like a child. The woman on the boat in this printed image is a symbol that emerged out of nowhere about 3 years ago. I started cutting a piece of paper to make a stencil for printmaking, and my hand moved to create it without myself planning. To my eyes, this stencil woman has been looking for a change of scenery. She feels most empowered at night to make the change. So she planned a departure under the starlight—one of many departures she’d make in her life. I felt compelled to create this printed image for her, in order to set her free. She symbolizes the part of me that wishes the balance between the need to satisfy obligations and the desire to be free.
(Displayed at the juried exhibition When Darkness Falls: Night Exploration, Annmarie Sculpture Garden and Art Center, Solomons, MD, October 11, 2019 – January 20, 2020)
I experiment the most with the gelatin print technique among all art media I use. With gelatin print making, I don’t have full control over how images would turn out, and this makes it easier for me to surrender the urge to control. As I arrange plant leaves, stems, and paper stencils over the gelatin plate and ink, I feel excited like a child. The woman on the boat in this printed image is a symbol that emerged out of nowhere about 3 years ago. I started cutting a piece of paper to make a stencil for printmaking, and my hand moved to create it without myself planning. To my eyes, this stencil woman has been looking for a change of scenery. She feels most empowered at night to make the change. So she planned a departure under the starlight—one of many departures she’d make in her life. I felt compelled to create this printed image for her, in order to set her free. She symbolizes the part of me that wishes the balance between the need to satisfy obligations and the desire to be free.
Exploration through Printmaking:
My Ancestor's Hand on Mine (A set of 6), 2020, gelatin monotype prints
$950 (without frames)
The concept of epigenetic inheritance in humans (https://newatlas.com/epigenetic-inheritance-dna-offspring/54161/) sparked an interest in reconsidering the connection to my ancestors. To explore the concept, I chose printmaking as a medium.
Printmaking is a process that requires repetition: Spread the ink on a gelatin plate. Place stencils over the ink. Lay down a piece of paper. Rub the paper. Peel the paper. As I repeated this process over and over, I derived several images from the same hand-shaped stencils. The result was a group of images that were related but distinct, just like family members and relatives. In some images, the veins of an ancestor’s hand clearly touches the veins in my hand. In other images, the connection is faint. The process of creating these images reflects how genes and life experiences could be passed down to future generations: there are repetitions, some elements are more pronounced than others, and at times no connection is apparent. A change in one gene may act as a template for future versions, much like how a torn stencil changes the images I’d make with it in future prints.
I am interested in knowing what my ancestors experienced. I am interested in understanding what they left within me. The repetitive printmaking process felt like asking them questions over and over: “How am I related to you, my ancestors? What connects us? Have your experiences influenced my view of the world?” These prints are field notes of my inquiries to the ancestors.
bottom of page