STEPHANIE S. LEE

MY STORY, NOVEMBER 2023:

Art has been a constant companion since my youth, yet oddly, I never saw myself as a true artist. Perhaps it was the lingering apprehension fueled by societal stereotypes of impoverished, lonely, or exceptionally gifted artists. Growing up in the education-centric Korean society, I explored various extracurricular activities, but impatience, a dislike for numbers, quick boredom, and perpetual curiosity led me to abandon many. However, during art classes, I found myself able to concentrate for hours, and the art academy became my sole commitment.

In my family, I stood as the lone individual showing potential in art, and fortunately, my parents recognized my talent, supporting my enrollment in an art high school. Later, I pursued studies abroad in New York, completing the Communication Design BFA at Pratt. Despite graduating and working as a graphic designer in a Manhattan corporate firm, the title of "artist" remained distant to me. Life as a graphic designer with good health benefits and 401K options seemed satisfying, and I didn't consider other paths.

However, marriage and motherhood stirred emotions of lack and anger, fueling my desire for self-discovery and awakening a hidden passion for art. The fear of losing my self-existence and the desperate need to reclaim myself amid the roles of mother and wife became the driving force behind my artistic journey.

Marriage brought significant changes in my life, but motherhood surpassed expectations. Raising a child alone in a foreign country, bearing sole responsibility for every aspect of parenting, proved physically and mentally challenging. The pressure of being solely accountable for another human being's life, combined with daily tasks, lack of sleep, and no time to pause, pushed me to the brink. The overwhelming sense of losing my identity amid the roles of mother and wife reshaped my identity. Although I never considered myself a feminist or egotist, I found myself becoming one.

During a trip to South Korea for my daughter's first birthday, I discovered traditional Korean folk art, a hobby my mother had taken up after retirement. Fortunately, during my stay, I could entrust my daughter to family members for a few hours daily, allowing precious time for myself. These moments made me realize the value of time spent on myself and the love I held for art. The act of creation became my unique escape, allowing me to exist solely as 'me.'

Realizing that I could be myself when creating art, I continued to find time to paint even after returning to New York. Gradually, the accumulated paintings led to exhibitions, and with a background in graphic design, I marketed myself and fellow artists, eventually curating and installing exhibitions. As my daughter grew old enough for school, I pursued my Master's degree in museum studies at Pratt in my 40s.

Now, I run a nonprofit art center providing free space and art workshops for artists and the community (https://www.garageartcenter.org). I also founded a Korean folk art organization to spread the joy of art. My daughter is now somewhat independent; however, my time remains fragmented between the roles of mother and wife, incessantly interrupted. Recognizing that dedicating extended periods to art is not immediately feasible, I am slowly returning to myself. But it’s okay because now I see that my path will lead me to a full-time artist. No longer lingering on the outskirts, I am determined to fully immerse myself in this journey.

Many constraints associated with female roles force me to seize every fractured moment, yet I dream of the day when I can live the life of a complete artist.

My journey as an artist has only just begun.