A letter to my ancestors, inspired by Aki Shibata’s Dear Earth Project.
it's a private matter pain is a private matter it's a personal thing it's a private matter
pain is a private matter Paint is a private matter. It's a personal think, a private matter
Private is pain, a personal matter is. a person matter is a personal thing a matter. It's a private thing, a personal matter.
On September 9, 2016, I posted a photo of my work Hmong Clothes #1, khaub ncaw hmoob #1 onto my Facebook Artist page. In this image I was modeling Hmong clothes that I created with camouflage nylon and bullet shells while wearing black high heels and holding a toy gun. I originally wrote about my process in an earlier blog post which you can read about here. In my original post I did not include any context, instead wrote the title of the work, dimensions and mediums as one would do when labeling works of art. Also included in this post was a fragment stating “Maybe, I’ll wear it for the Hmong New Year”.
About six hours later, this post was shared over 50 times on to other people’s Facebook walls, forums, and other social media websites. It generated over 2,000 views on my artist Facebook Page. I made the decision to delete everything on my artist page however the photo was reposted five days later into a public Facebook page and forum called Kuv Yog Hmoob - I am Hmong. Kuv Yog Hmoob is a space where Hmong people from all over the world come together to share Hmong experiences. There are over 24,000 members and it is growing daily. A good majority of the posts and comments are written in Hmong and many active members speak freely based on their opinions, beliefs and experiences. A few friends recognized my photo and brought it to my attention. At this point the Facebook thread had already generated over 100 comments, 270 shares and 470 reactions.Read More
The Ananya Dance Theater (ADT) hosted an Audience Empowerment Workshop on August 22 at the Frey Theater in The O'Shaughnessy complex at St. Catherine University in St. Paul for the community to learn more about "Horidraa: Golden Healing," ADT's 2016 production. ADT dancers performed excerpts from "Horidraa" and after each performance, Ananya Chatterjea, founder, director, choreographer of ADT opened the floor up for reflection and discussion.
My mind is still processing what I experienced. I felt naive as I listened to people's reactions, thoughts, and comments regarding the four pieces performed. Naive in the sense that the movements were familiar. Have I been performing this? When was the last time I was seduced? When was the last time I tried to hide my imperfections? When was the last time I told someone to stop and think about what they were saying, consuming, and enforcing? I realized that on a daily basis these dances are performed. The dance I saw today was unpolished, raw and truthful. Below are a brief observation of the first and second performance.Read More
Hmong Scholars, historians, anthropologist, and Hmong elders have stated over and over again that Hmong textiles, clothing and paj ntaub have been traditionally passed down from grandmothers to mothers to daughters and so on. It's an oral and visual tradition that's learned through memorization and produced by the hands of Hmong women.
I revisited this "traditional" female process to ask the questions: "What if we took this tradition serious? What would Hmong women's clothing look like today if I continued to explore the concept of history, memory and spirituality recorded in the fabric and body? What if we thought serious about the materials that are on the finest traditional Hmong clothing and continued creating? What does it mean to wear The Clothes today?Read More
The Hmong people have been in America for a little over 40 years. Generally speaking, it's hard to find spaces where artists of the Hmong identity can reflect and have critical conversations about their working processes, especially if the works are influenced by their experiences, histories and cultures.
Today the internet and social media platforms are making it easier to seek out events that elaborate on contemporary issues in the arts. There's a lack of contemporary Hmong conversations about visual and performance art in my community. I've been throwing myself into other community spaces to explore how artist of color and indigenous identities mentor and engage in contemporary American issues. What does it look like to make art influenced by one's identity? Are there similar issues that artist of color and indigenous artist experience?Read More
I've been reading Claiming Place On the Agency of Hmong Women by Chia Youyee Vang, Faith Nibbs, and Ma Vang. There was one particular chapter that forced me think about the visuals that are generally chosen for history books, The Women of "Dragon Capital" Marriage Alliances and the Rise of Vang Pao written by Mai Na M. Lee, a history professor from the University of Minnesota-Minneapolis. Who gets to decide what pictures goes into a book? Can the photos in a history book aid or take away from someone's writing?Read More
Seeds of Change is an exhibition which showcases Mike Hazard’s photography and a video clip of the landscape in which the Hmong American Farmers Association (HAFA) worked. This exhibition was co-presented with HAFA documenting a farm for one year. I was particularly interested in how the artist showcases change, community and family dialogue.
I first heard about HAFA when I met Pakou Hang (the co-founder of HAFA) about three years ago. She was the keynote speaker at a small Hmong conference at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. Hang highlighted her experiences with the politics of race, campaigning, advocating for Hmong representation and activism in the larger Minnesota communities.Read More
My idea of the perfect vacation is booking a nice hotel room (for one week)-on a peaceful island, then lugging with me my gaming equipment, laptop, drawing tablet and headphones. Playing video-games might be the only way to truly distract my brain from thinking about the realities of the world.
I was due for a vacation but even more so was itching to take a break from America. About three weeks ago a friend and I booked a trip to spend two weeks in Krakow, Poland and one week in Berlin, Germany. People asked, “What's in Poland and why are you going there?” These are fair questions, no one saves money for four to five years to buy a plane ticket to the lowest costing trip to Europe...Read More
Why pursue art? Why did you decide to walk down this path? The questions that I ask myself once in awhile. I am always reassessing myself and the work that bubbles out of me. I create in various state of minds. Sometimes I make in a trance when my imagination, thoughts and energy are at its highest, to a point where I have to release or live with being overwhelmed by emotions. Other times I slowly chip away at a thought and spend years to add one mark at a time.Read More
It's been one year since I moved to Minnesota and I am coming into full awareness of being-myself. Although I'm not quite completely out of my comfort zone, I am finding that it is hard to exist without a place to call home. I am within driving distance of one of the most concentrated Hmong communities in the United States, and though I am Hmong I cannot say that I belong here.
I moved to the Twin Cities to continue my investigation of what it means to be Hmong in America and since moving I have found the ground to confront who I am, a product of patriarchy.Read More
In 2005, a group of friends and I founded the first anime/manga club (Fans Revolution) at my high-school. I sold a copy of the Fans Rev. Coloring book-2nd issue, to Tengo Lor, who I met through an online artist network called Hmongartist.net. He was actively advocating for Hmong visual artist, and he gifted me with a variety of collectibles from active artists affiliated with Hmongartist.net among other organizations during that time. I was shocked to find these promotional items in a pile of crap that I was going to toss.
Hmongartist.net/ Hmong Artist Network
Since arriving to America the communist take-over of South East Asia, the Hmong people immigrated to the United States and elsewhere in the world to flee from persecution for siding with the Americans during the war. To "succeed" the American dream, most elders told their children to get a higher education and to become lawyers and doctors. For the young children who had their hearts in arts, sometimes it was shunned upon. It wasn't until recently in the past years that the Hmong art community has bloomed so much, especially in the metropolitan areas of Minnesota. There, through art, Hmong artists and enthusiast has come together to build a community in support of one another.
ART IS THE ESSENCE OF CULTURE
Many civilizations have come and gone. Art is one of the many fundamental identities of a culture. Without art, there is no history and documentation of our people. Imagine, the great Romans, Mayans, Egyptians and other cultures have dwindled away thousands of years ago. How do we know about them even though they have gone and past? We know because they had left their art behind.
The Hmong people are the same. We are a dying culture being assimilated into others. Sure, there can be Hmong doctors and lawyers, but please let the artists become artists. Like the Paj Ntaub past on through our generations, it is only one of the few reasons our new generations can understand our rich cultural past.
Our mission, is to help preserve and nurture the Hmong artists in our community. Through art, we can re-establish our culture and in the process, to learn from it as well as teach it. -- Tengo Lor, Hmong Artists Staff
When the internet was still dial-up and DSL was the fastest way to connect with like minded individuals, Hmong Artist Network (no longer active) and the Center for Hmong Arts and Talent challenged my perception of what it means to be Hmong in America. It is still uncommon for Hmong people to pursue anything other than being a doctor, lawyer or someone who brings in the money. In high-school I found solace in these platforms which encouraged exploration of identity and conversations through creative expression.
For the longest time I thought Hmongartist.net was a Center for Hmong Arts and Talent space. As I look through these promotional items, Hmongartists.net is a website owned by Hmong Artist Network, a collective and network of artist who created a space for artists working in Hmong to engage, express and share their experiences. It was through this platform that I began to contemplate the words Hmong artist and Hmong art.
In the early 2000s, many of the artist I met online were from areas of America where there were larger concentrations of Hmong. Growing up in a smaller city in Wisconsin, I could count all the Hmong people that I knew on my fingers. Though I could not fully relate to the Hmong which I saw represented on Hmongartist.net, I felt the need to be active in this platform. It was an exciting time to know that I was not alone in the world, and though I could not agree with everything I was seeing, I was not fully equipped to explain why some images do not sit well with me.
What does it mean to be Hmong? A question that I have asked myself multiple times, a question that contemplates where Hmong fit into the conversations regarding race, history, and human experiences. It is a question that blurs my elder’s definitions of Hmong, it is a conversation starter to engage everyone to speak about their experiences. In the words of a friend, it is very much about being the “author of your own life”. Today, the word Hmong holds diasporic history, collective memories, and complex visual and oral histories. Then, when the word Hmong and artists come together what comes to your mind?
Unlike my high school self, I now contemplate the words Hmong artists and Hmong art. I am hesitant to carelessly throw around these words as I question the intentions and processes of someone’s Hmong art, and where it comes from. Are the words Hmong artists and Hmong art used to describe a collection of voices and experiences? Are Hmong artists exploring art and their expression through Hmong lens? Then by being Hmong and an artist, make Hmong art even if the works produced do not engage in the processes of arts and crafts of the Hmong?
It has been 10 months since I moved to Minnesota and I fear that what is understood as Hmong art to the general community, are works of art which I believe lacks critical engagement and integrity. I find various Hmong artists work problematic. Specifically, Hmong art where women and men are represented only in traditional Hmong clothes, surrounded by popular textile motifs often for the aesthetics of making something looking pretty. What are these artists really saying to their audience? It is problematic when these works of art are sold, mass produced and consumed without considering how violent an image can be. Is this due to the lack of intentionality in the works produced, lack of awareness of Hmong visual history and who consumes art? Are people desensitized to art because everyone is bombarded by images? Is it because anything and everything is art? I am itching to have more conversations with people regarding their working processes to better understand for myself what Hmong art is.
Artists Working in Hmong
Since living in Minnesota, I have come into contact with various artists from all over the United States and elsewhere in the world, who are challenging Hmong experiences through critical engagement in various mediums. To name a few, Pao Houa Her, Jennifer Tshab Her, Sieng Lee, Mai Kue Vang, Vanghoua Anthony Vue, Fres Thao, Andre Yang, Song Yer Thao, Magnolia Yang-Sao-Yia , Victoria Kue, Sao Her...have been engaging in art, identity, movements, and community. In their works, they deconstruct traditions, confront histories, trauma, patriarchy and create spaces for engagement.
As Burlee Vang writes in the book, How Do I Begin? A Hmong American Literary Anthology:
“You can't separate yourself from your ethnicity. But ethnicity shouldn’t be for the artist an object of exoticism or a kind of artistic limitation. I am less interested in my being Hmong (unless it serves as a crucial theme or topic) and more concerned with trying to reveal some universal experience or truth, despite how alien the world, situation, or characters I am presenting might be to readers. I am interested in transcending boundaries, to make familiar the unfamiliar, extraordinary. This is how an artist can connect successfully to the audience. This too, I think, is how one can produce that which is eternal. There's one thing I am certain of. Something undeniably spiritual happens when you devote yourself to an art form. By using words as a kind of ethereal lens, one is able to see the soul with some clarity. Art can reveal its elusive shape. . .”
Vang's connection with his work is inseparable from who he is and it is less about being Hmong, but is not something that should be seen as separate from his works. I too hope that artists are seeking truth in their works and are not exotifying and appropriating cultures without trying to reveal some universal experience. That is not to say that artists should not engage in recontextualizing traditional textiles, sounds, oral traditions, or borrowing from other cultures, but to cautiously incorporate or deconstruct these processes from a place of understanding beyond something that looks and feels pleasing, let alone claiming to invent new forms of art without considering the hard work that came before.
As I am becoming more aware of who I am, what I do, and how I communicate to people, I also hope that there is a stronger sense of community support for artists working in Hmong or who has worked in Hmong. Seeing how Hmong people have such strong and often spiritual connections with traditions in oral, visual and performance, I expect no less of quote-unquote-Hmong-artists to engage and challenge histories, traditions, communities, and audiences to engage in Hmong art. However as an artist who works in Hmong, though highly influenced by my identity, my work goes beyond me being Hmong, and as Vang suggests, it is more or less about making a connection with someone. At the moment, I am really obsessed with making a mark, drawing a line and filling space. It brings me pleasure, gives me pain, and if I can bring people to my world, it is a win-win for everyone.
On February 12th, I was invited by my artist, dancer and activist friend Magnolia to attend an event filled with a variety of community artist and activist at Bedlam Theater. Hosted by Gazillion Strong, a non-profit organization dedicated to the development of resources and tools that aid marginalized communities
(http://www.wearegazillionstrong.org/), Sex, Dance, and Rock & Roll brought together community members to support the voices and communities of the indigenous people and people of color (POC).
Performing that night was the Ananya Dance Theater which was founded in 2004 by Ananya Chatterjea
A Life Underground, a hardcore rock band consisting of friends who found each other through their differences (https://www.facebook.com/undergrounders246)
See More Perspective, a politically-and-culturally-conscious hip-hop artist (https://seemoremusic.bandcamp.com/album/sex-tape-or-my-response-to-our-morbidly-underdeveloped-sex-education).
Voice, Power, and Movement: Horidraa: Golden Healing, 2016 http://www.ananyadancetheatre.org/about/touring/ In general, performances are entertaining and connections that are made in real time with beginnings and endings, however I want to focus on the Ananya Dance Theater (ADT) and what it means to be a participant and observer in their work.
The Ananya Dance Theater (ADT) presented Horidraa: Golden Healing, a piece which engaged the entire space in movements and sounds. Though it was my first experience with ADT, based on this one performance I knew that ADT works to curate radical and provocative ways to experience storytelling.
Viewers could not look away from this performance as everyone was brought into a spiritual journey where movement and gestures were made recognizable and yet not recognizable. Right off the bat, the performance set a peculiar tone. The sounds and movements animated the space and the audience were made to let go of their preconceived notions of dance and to solely rely on feels. It was unsettling and uncomfortable hearing the guttural cries of pain, anger, and the huffing and puffing of exhaustion. Their movements went from subtle and pleasing to jarring, grotesque, sad, and pungent. I was a sensory overload, I constantly told myself to take things as they come. In my opinion, the Ananya Dance Theater was re-educating people on how to listen and feel someone's stories.
In particular this performance felt like a personal narrative told in the lens of someone who comes from a different world, yet recognizable despite the unfamiliarity of the movements. It was a humbling experience as I believe many audience members were left feeling unsettled and wanting to know more about the context of the work. Though it’s important to have context, I think it really works for this particular piece to have audience members come into the space without any notions of what they are seeing and experiencing in front of them, heightening the importance of what is contemporary dance.
Coming from a small city where POC and indigenous people had no presence, Sex, Dance and Rock n Roll blew my mind away. As I become more familiar with the Twin Cities area, I’m beginning to understand how powerful the voices of POC and indigenous communities can be when there are support systems and especially when there are strong advocators who come together to create. This event creates awareness of these communities and enforces the basic human connections that have been disrupted overtime.
What is The Fresh Traditions Fashion Show?
As someone who recently moved to the Twin Cities, I believe that Fresh Traditions (FT) is hidden gem in the Midwest. FT is a community and arts program founded in 2006 by Kathy Mouacheupao, the previous director of the Center for Hmong Arts and Talent ( http://www.aboutchat.org/). FT highlights the importance of culture, creativity and originality in fashion design while exploring Hmong history and traditions through fabrics. This year Fresh Traditions is turning 10, how many Hmong arts programming can you name that has been consistent and lasted this long?
So Why Should You Be Interested In This Show?
My thought processes in making art involves lots of research, conversations and experimentation. I believe there's much to learn from being a participant and observer. I attended my first Fresh Traditions Fashion show in September of 2015. This show is a nationally known platform for Hmong designers to collectively challenge and be challenged by design, community and identities. It's the intersection where thinkers, makers and artists have complete freedom of expression.
As a visual artist who works to provoke and redefine Hmong American experiences, I always knew that I would attend this show one day. I believe this show is not exclusively only for designers, it is a platform for Hmong people to explore and bring their stories, history and culture to the forefront. It is an ongoing investigation on how to have conversations about our experiences, through art and design.
I can't stress how important this show is to the Hmong people because at large FT is an outlet to challenge people to think of Hmong textiles beyond it's aesthetics. For instance, Google the word “Hmong” and what do you see in the image search results? Majority of what's represented are Hmong women in their ethnic clothing. No doubt these pictures are beautiful, but I think Hmong can be experienced and represented in so many different ways.
Traditions And The Hmong Women's Body Through Arts and Crafts
The reason why I Google search “Hmong” every year is because for those who are not Hmong, for those who have never heard or seen “Hmong” before, the internet is the first place many people will experience other people's cultures and history. When I see Hmong textiles I think about the process and the figures who create these works. I think about the tradition of Hmong women embodying textile crafts. I think about my mother, grandmother, aunts, sisters, I think about Hmong women. So when designers who are Hmong and non-Hmong incorporate Hmong textiles and symbols into their works, are the works about aesthetics or about the history and traditions that embodies the Hmong women's experiences? Are artists and designers eradicating the female body from Paj Ntaub, fabrics and Hmong history for commercial gain? Are aesthetics desensitizing thousands of years of tradition, processes, and history to make something look pretty?
Fashion is such a white world. Heck, in advertising all you ever see are white people represented, Google the word "Fashion" you'll see what I mean. I also think there are very few programming for people of color. To connect the traditional fabric to the body from which it came creates a different experience for people. It reminds people not to erase the body from the experience of clothing and culture.
These are the questions that run through my mind as I see makers, artists and designers engage in Hmong visually. I want to encourage everyone to step back and really think about appropriation and what people are producing. Does what you are seeing and consuming represent who you are.
HOW TO APPLY
With this said, Fresh Tradition's application for the 10th show ends tomorrow, January 31st. The best way to engage in these conversations is to be apart of the venues that are able and willing to elevate ideas and creativity. So apply, join the conversation, and participate by attending the show.
Fresh Traditions X: Call for Designers
The Clothes are such a big part of my life and I’ve been wearing The Clothes since I was younger. If I could, I’d wear The Clothes every day, similarly like my great grandmother in her pre-American years. She only wears The Clothes and nothing else. She’s commando, bra-less and dignified. Upon coming to America, she had to pack The Shirt, The Xauv, The Apron, and The Head-wrap away but she was able to keep The Pants. The Pants was deemed functional by American society, enough for people to not eye her like she doesn’t belong.
I wear The Clothes every year, in schools and for celebrations and whenever I feel like it. I wear it to remind myself and others that I am different, that I come from a family and a history of people who do not have much but their memories, metals and clothes. The Clothes isn't just a cultural object, The Clothes represents me, I wear The Clothes for myself.
It's been roughly 4 months since I moved to Minnesota. To learn more about the communities in the Twin Cities, I began volunteering for a community mural lead by confident and compassionate youth leaders who title themselves the Frog Town Crew (FTC). This crew consists of high schoolers from the Frog Town Community. It's a program of St. Paul Smart Trips and the Kitty Andersen Youth Science Center at the Science Museum of Minnesota and their projects works to promote a healthier lifestyle, safety and the Frog Town community. FTC is led by two community organizers, Tou Saiko Lee, spoken word and hip-hop artist and Marc King an emerging artist and assistant coordinator at the Youth Science Center.
Working in collaboration with FTC is artist Krissana Ari, a multi-media artist, musician and activist in the LGBTQ and various other communities from the West Coast. At the heart of this mural are students who are taking charge of community organizing and learning to become the leaders of their generation. They are leaving a large mark in their community to encourage conversations about positive change. This mural is a portrait of their community and home.
As an outsider assisting in this project, I was extremely moved by these students and their dedication to being the change in their community. I was moved knowing that these teenagers were spending their summer, trying to show how they felt about their community and how it should be viewed differently than how the media portrays it. Upon moving to Minnesota, I've heard many bad things about Frog Town. About how it’s always dirty, unsafe, and your car can even get stolen. I can't even begin to imagine what it's like growing up with the gang related violence, police brutality, theft, and negativity. How does anyone believe in positive change when all you hear and see are the negatives?
I believe the Frog Town Crew are doing what anyone would have done. They are promoting positive images of where they come from while setting strong examples of how a community can combat and shift the voice and misconception of a neighborhood which has been developing and growing with various different ethnicities and cultures.
I moved to the Twin Cities, Minnesota because I wanted to see for myself what it's like to live in a concentrated Hmong population. My first memory of Frog Town was from the late 90s, when I use to visit my grandmother every summer and stay with her for 2-3 months. She loved St. Paul simply because she was able to converse comfortably and shop at local stores for everything. To her, Frog Town was a big part of her life. It was an extremely humble experience to see the Frog Town Community Mural's process. As an artist, nothing gets better than seeing how supportive the neighbors and businesses were in donating materials, time, and a wall to paint a portrait that will hopefully last 10-20 years from today.
Thank you Frog Town Crew!
To learn more about the Frog Town Community Mural, like and follow them on social media:
I use to wonder why the drawing instructors made us draw the same shit over and over again and it finally clicked one day.
I think good art instructors don't want to explain every thing to students because ultimately many instructors don't want to alter people's expression and thought process about how to perceive reality. But also keep in mind that studio art is also based on many traditional Western art principles and school of learning. Not all artists create works based on formal concepts of creating.
Observation is an important muscle many visual artist will flex and stretch over and over again. It's unfortunate that art history courses in many institutions have their limitations in how much someone can experience and learn about process and creativity. Most visual artist are masters at observation, meaning they have a good grasp on perceiving reality and the world.
When drawing, I see the things which constructs who I am, and as an artist, I control how I want to make the mark or how I want someone to experience them. With that said, many works of art today simply explore one or multiple aspect of making, reality, and the world. Observation is a basic skill that will open many doors to seeing the world through a different lens and it's taught me that everyone has something different to show, say, and present to the world.
I remember the days when Hmong people use to gather outside their homes at parks. There were so few Hmong families in the town I grew up, so I would see familiar faces everyday.
When we herd the ice cream trucks coming, we run towards our parents to annoy the money out of them. The lucky ones are usually the most persistent criers.
The men would gather in the small parking lot and roll out their handwoven mattresses, home brewed rice wine, and playing cards. The older and younger generations would sit together on the grass, or small woven chairs to smoke and gamble.
The women would stay by the playground and slowly stitch away at their paj ntaub, gossip, or watch their children play.
However today you wouldn't find people at parks and it makes me wonder, where did everyone go? When did these gatherings become less common, and just stopped?
Whenever I see a playground it takes me back to those days. The land, environment and objects contains stories and the memories shared with people. Maybe that's why my relationship with Hmong textiles, symbols, colors makes me feel bitter sweet.
Front and back view modeled by my mother. Materials: polyester/satin, and a variety of polyester fabrics bought from Hmong Village.
A friend asked me to help make two Hmong inspired stoles for her graduation ceremony this coming Sunday. Again, I’m a painter/drawer before anything else, thus this was an extremely challenging project. I finished this project in about one week and most of the second stole was done at Mayo Clinic while waiting for my grandmother’s cancer checkup.
My grandma stared at how I was holding my needle and commented that all my stitch work looked like ant legs! Ant legs meant that the stitches were uneven and stretched too far from the edges and were not invisible like the stitch is supposed to be. As I continued to work away at the stole, she smiled and stated that ant legs were how the older generation could tell a beginner sewer from a skilled one. Her eyes glisten and gleamed as she recalled her experiences around paj ntaub.
Overall it was an interesting experience being able to hear the women in my family speak about their memories when they see paj ntaub. Paj ntaub in many ways is the landscape of Hmong history and culture. While the symbols are wearable, ornamental, and aesthetically pleasing, I believe that the process, memories and stories surrounding the creation of paj ntaub is why many Hmong people have come to accept it as a symbol of Hmong identity.
Through this project, I thought about what the needle, thread, and traditional Hmong colors meant to me. I thought about why people feel that emotional, hollow tug in which Hmong people calls “kho siab” when they see these items alongside the traditional garments, tapestry, and textiles. I thought about how my grandmother, mother, and father reacts to a story cloth and other Hmong textiles as though the objects were the land in which they've come from.
I think my friend made a wonderful choice in wearing a Hmong inspired stole to her graduation. She is wearing the visual culture and history of her identity.
Greetings, my name is Koua Mai Yang and I am an emerging artist working in drawing, painting, and mixed media collage. I am interested in exploring Hmong identity, history and cultures through art, and community involvement.
In 2007 I began to pursue an arts degree because I truly enjoyed art. It was a calling and a curse that I had to answer and fulfill to be content with myself. I was highly inspired by animation, video games, and comics. Film makers such as Hayao Miyazaki, and artist Yoshitaka Amano stole my heart and soul, and I wanted to explore, create, and present to the world what I could do as an artist. However I was also falling deeper and deeper into the world known as fine arts.
In 2010 I declared a fine arts major with a concentration in drawing and painting. What lead me to fine arts? My identity as a female Hmong American. Growing up in a small town influenced me to think about what really matters to me as a person. I fell in love with the connection people have with art, expression, and process.