Korean Intangible Cultural Property Holders at Old Korean Legation Museum

This was a trip I knew would take me over the edge, yet one I felt I had to do. Duty bound, for sure. During government shutdown, it was the worst timing because I couldn't fly, which extended my trip by days since it's very hard on my body to drive so much, so I break it up. I was so glad to see Vagner on the way (well, kind of out of the way, but it was worth it to see him), but was scared for my life for the first 3 hours of a 4-hour drive since we had very bad snow/ice/whiteout conditions from Ohio to PA. I learned that adrenaline truly numbs pain, because I couldn't feel anything under my stomach that whole drive and wondered if the white I was seeing in front of me, rather than the car in front of me, meant that I had died and was driving into the light. After dropping all of my stuff in Baltimore, I commuted into D.C. to visit a weeklong exhibit at the Old Korean Legation Museum.

I knew from the summer, when my teacher, the national intangible cultural property holder (ICPH) of bamboo screen making Cho Dae-yong told me he was going to visit D.C. in November, that I had to go. I was very happy to see him, but the cost was steep for me on all levels (time, body, etc.). I was sad that this show was only up for a week, which included the work of many national ICPH and their apprentices. It spanned all three floors of this beautiful old house and there was something to see in every corner of the elegant space, but there was no time to really see it all or spend time with the work.

Here is an apprentice who served as the Korean to English translator, Won Bohyun, the organizer of the exhibit, and my teacher, in front of one of his screens. She had worked for years on this exhibit and I was sad that it was happening at a time when the stupid government was messing with their plans (they had to cancel their Smithsonian event even though the government had just reopened—though by then they had already changed their plans to spend an extra night in NYC).

This was my teacher's other piece in the show, a beautiful color combo of indigo-dyed bamboo and yellow silk. His daughter told me that she has been doing indigo dyeing on her own but no matter what she does, she cannot get the color to stay on her bamboo splints. He always sends his bamboo to the national ICPH of indigo dyeing in Naju to dye.

There were also beautiful videos on loop and this is a quick snap of him making his very large bamboo screens.

Here he is with his daughter, Cho Suk-mi. She took very good care of me for the next 12+ hours.

Because we were being herded on a tour and unable to stop or move around (it's not the kind of space amenable to large crowds looking at one piece in a corner), I couldn't get a close-up of her screen that is hanging on the green wall.

Instead of a ribbon cutting, they arranged for everyone to have a scroll of lovely Korean silk bound with silk maedeup (the knotting ICPH was there as well), and after counting down, they all unrolled their scrolls at the same time, which were printed with the show info. My sweet teacher immediately insisted I take one before the ceremony got going.

The former first lady of Maryland, Yumi Hogan, was there to commemorate the event, and I took a picture with her to show to Rosa, with whom I was supposed to be staying, since Yumi has been Rosa's mentor for years. She has a remarkable life story as well.

On the first floor I was glad to see the folding fans by the national ICPH and his son that I met on my last research trip, amidst many other pieces that the ICPH in attendance explained.

A child's hanbok on the bed with adult hanbok in the background. After the reception ended, the ICPH were being herded quickly downstairs and outside to a van waiting to shuttle them to dinner. My teacher's daughter insisted that I join, even though I assumed they had some fancy place reserved for a set number of people. She said there was room so I got into the van.

More folding fans!

The person who had been looking at this said that it was 19th century toilet paper. Once in the van, someone announced that we'd be eating at the hotel, and then I heard the driver say, it will take 45 mins to get to the hotel! At that point, I was horrified (I assumed they would be treated to dinner near the exhibit), and asked where the hotel was. Suk-mi said, right next to the airport. I said, DULLES?!?!? And then spiraled as I frantically started texting Rosa on 30% battery about when the last commuter train leaves DC and looked up hotel rates for the Hilton because there was no way I'd make it back to Baltimore that night. When I told Suk-mi, she said, stay with me! I have an extra bed! I had nothing for an overnight stay but knew that at least she would have all the skin care I would need.

Of course, I barely slept and then had to get up at 6:30am to have breakfast with her and my teacher (we had to wake him to come downstairs) in time for me to catch the hotel shuttle to the airport, where I could connect to the Metro and commute for 3 hours to get to MICA in time for a tour of the paper studio. Most of my time in the DMV was like that. But it was wonderful to see my teacher after 4 years and I so appreciated that he knew exactly what my role is, as a hanji person. I had felt guilty all this time for not finishing edits on a video of his process, or not comprehensively uploading all of my research photos of my study with him, and especially for not making more bamboo screens. But that all dissipated when he introduced me to everyone and had no expectation that I was supposed to be a bamboo screen maker. I'm so grateful to people who really know and understand me, and give me space to be me. I'm sorry I won't be able to visit Korea next year to see his new gallery/studio/teaching building in Tongyeong but it was worth trekking to DC to greet him instead.

The briefest bit at home

This is a misleading timeline because I attended the Cleveland Arts Prize ceremony right before I left for Michigan for my annual milkweed residency. But I'm going to pretend this is a section about one of the narrow windows I had at home this fall between incessant travel. I met Amber, a CAP recipient a few years ago, way back when I used to teach artists' books at CIA, where she still teaches. We both loved teaching Irena, the one student from those times that I am still in touch with. I love seeing her career blossom and admire her dedication to her family, hometown, and public art.

Two weeks later, I visited Oberlin for my artist talk at the museum for the show that I am part of right now that runs thru June 21, 2026. Kevin, the curator, very kindly pulled the Chinese landscape painting that is a huge part of my hanji trajectory. This is a piece of hanji that is pasted front side down so that the backside could be recycled as a colophon, even though it was never inscribed.

By Li Liufang in 1616, it's hard to see, but the entire ground was prepared with gold before the landscape was painted on top.

It reads more brown in the photos but it's still a lovely gold. Though different from the gold flecks that I wrote about for years, inspiring me to return to Korea to grab my first language by the tail before it escaped forever, it was still amazing to see it for the first time since the late 90s. Now that I know Arnold Chang, himself an incredible painter in the Chinese literati lineage, I also learned my misunderstanding of this entire scroll. He appraised this acquisition by Oberlin and when I asked if this was painted on Korean paper, he said likely not. So the whole story I believed, that it was painted on hanji, was incorrect! Only the colophon pastedown was hanji, and not particularly fancy paper, simply recycled from something else.

I also visited the art library quickly to see the display of my books from the collection. I was amazed to see that some of my earliest work from 1999 still retains so much of the essence of my books today. I'm also grateful to a donor for donating my large artists' book currently in the exhibit to the library!

Meanwhile, I had been working for a while at home on a new jiseung piece inspired by my summer visit to the Met's Korean gallery. I had a very clear vision of where this was going, and then it ended up not going there at all, but I'm still happy I have a new piece.

The lid was supposed to be a duck head and I worked so hard on it, ripping it out at least once, only to have it not work at all. But that's okay. These things happen, and this is still a handsome outcome of the process. Oh, and the campus visit was great! I was touched by all of the people who turned out; it's always exciting when more chairs need to be dragged out. I was happy to catch up with new and old friends and colleagues though it was not even close enough time to really catch up.

October Milkweed Residency

Milkweed Residency always feels like coming home. This year, last minute, we reverted to the original trio of Pati (at left), Tim, and me. Jill is in the background here helping us harvest.

Ticks were very busy this year so we stayed in the horse pasture and nearby. Saw lots of dogbane as well!

I was so happy to see Jill and she was very kind to Lester. He was their one remaining pet but weeks later, he was gone, too.

I steamed immediately after processing the harvest and later separated the pods into "burst" and "not burst" bags. Thank goodness I realized on the way home that I could detour to Oberlin and throw both bags in the freezer next to the paper studio, and leftover stalks there as well. I love efficiency (and there is NO way those pods would have fit into my home freezer!).

This is a bit out of sequence but it's after stripping stalks that I steamed. I did much of it on the first day but then left the rest over a day or two.

I tried to work around meal prep and meal times to get the batch stripped before throwing it into the woods.

This year we had a field trip to Kalamazoo! I had missed the Washi Transformed show that has been traveling for years in a few different locations, so I was eager to finally see it. Yuko's piece is on the left of the title wall and more pieces were distributed through both galleries.

Eriko Horiki's illuminated washi

Yuko Nishimura's folded washi

We also had a visit to the book arts center and caught up with Jeff. I think afterwards I went straight to bed but I can't remember exactly the sequence of my naps. I could sense we were all slowing down in our own ways and while I was greedy for their company, I was also glad to turn in early at night. After the harvest and Kzoo trip were done, I was curious to see Pati's paper studio setup for the year, and loved seeing her watermarks both on her mould,

and stored on the fridge!

This reminded me that I also want to get a vat warmer (not what this was made for but an excellent investment).

I was jealous of their giant nasturtiums! I planted mine from seed for the first year ever and they were tiny, but then again, they were in planters.

And, of course, part of the joy of Pati's and Tim's company is shared meals. This time I did a big batch of japchae, which I haven't made in years there, and it sustained us over a few more meals. Pati did a bang up job with her first kongjang/kongjorim, since I get paranoid now about not cooking with enough protein (I can't put meat in my japchae anymore so I wanted protein somewhere).

On the way in, I stopped in Ann Arbor to lunch with Cathy and meet her new wonderful mentee, Trina. On the way out, I got to see Katherine and visit the art library and museum, where I did a quick visit to the Korean gallery. There's not much to say about my annual Michigan visit because it's always the same: nourishing, rejuvenating, full of wonderful friends, and my favorite papermaking fiber. I'm so grateful to my impeccable hosts, who are incredibly good humans and artists who work with genuine integrity while staying curious and open, always, while creating beauty every single day.

Friends of Korea in Athens at Ohio University

For years, I had been on the mailing list for Friends of Korea, not because I signed up but likely from being a returned Fulbright fellow. I only vaguely felt that it might be something that related to me. They are an affiliate group that is similar to others, made up at first of returned Peace Corps volunteers who had served in Korea. While the acronym is not great, I like that each group is called "Friends of __[insert country]__." Our papermaking org was called Friends of Dard Hunter for a long time and recently changed to one that indicates borders, which I don't like. The idea of friendship being up front might seem hokey but feels real. The Peace Corps ran in Korea from 1966–1981, when South Korea was rebuilding after so much devastation after wars, occupation, etc. These volunteers are now in the sunset of their lives, yet still devoted to cross-cultural education, communication, and support. They lived in a Korea that my parents escaped, became part of Korean families, took on Korean names and learned the language. A really different orientation from white Americans who descend upon Korea with superficial interests and self-serving designs, who always raise my suspicions.

I was pleasantly surprised upon meeting this group in that it's entirely different from those who raise my hackles. In particular, Gerry Krzic, the president of the board, has modeled immense generosity, care, hospitality, and camaraderie in a way that proves that he spent formative years of his life in Korea. So much of the way he interacts with and takes care of people, especially his students, reminds me of what a Korean auntie would do. He invited me to present a plenary at their annual meeting in his hometown and workplace of Athens, at Ohio University. I had never been, but Gerry made it absolutely memorable, even overnighting Korean goodies from his garden (including perilla leaves, my favorite) in the summer to remind me of the gig in the fall.

Greg Caldwell received the Kevin O'Donnell Distinguished Friend of Korea Award, another exemplar of lifetime service to Korea and the organization, having served in the Peace Corps, as associate dean of students leading international education at Lewis & Clark College for the lion's share of his career, and as Honorary Consul for the Republic of Korea in Northern Oregon. Impeccable in presentation every day, and with the warmth of his North Carolina upbringing in his voice, I was so pleased to meet him and learn more about his service to students from around the world. I especially related to his efforts to re-home cherished belongings in the long process of Swedish death cleaning, and appreciated his connections with Korean adoptees in the Portland area where he lives, who have received many of his objects from Korea.

After stopping in Columbus to see Cat Sheridan and a textile show at the Riffe Gallery, I arrived Thursday afternoon and joined Gerry, Greg, Rob, and Anne for dinner. I was so happy that we ended up at Casa, since Cat had told me that was the place to go in Athens. Rob & Anne had driven in from upstate New York, and also served as Peace Corps volunteers in Korea, where they met. It was great to have a new audience for my hanji book, and see how the spirit of Peace Corps truly resonates for the rest of these people's lives. I was impressed by their collegiality, eager willingness to do tons of unglamorous work (sooo much schlepping of food, props, giveaways, consular gifts, people, and so on via van), and positive attitudes. They embodied a lifelong ethos of service, kindness, warmth, and giving that I have not seen all in one place for a long time. It was a refreshing change from what a friend said succinctly about being tortured by the worst of humanity, and a reminder that everyone at some point chooses their path. Everyone I met here had chosen service early in their lives and have not wavered.

The food was an obvious example of Korean/American hospitality! Gerry had ordered Korean food that a student picked up in Columbus, along with more food than we needed, to make sure everyone felt welcome and well nourished. He continues to text me almost daily to say I need to eat more, which is extremely Korean behavior. I was amazed by his ability to pull this entire meeting together with so little time, and the level of detail that included getting enough extra containers to pack food, which meant that I got to have kimbap for breakfast the next day. I should have known he is an old hand at organizing large groups of people across cultures and ages and geography; everything went without a hitch.

The days were full. Melissa Haviland picked me up at the hotel on the first morning and showed me the printmaking and papermaking facilities, which should be better represented by my photos but I was so excited to see this dog washing basin being used as a papermaking vat that I had to share. We had met at the Minneapolis papermaking conference where she took one of my paper thread classes. She chairs one of the best printmaking programs in the country, has tons of energy, and makes thoughtful, well-researched art. We visited Sandra at the Kennedy Art Museum, and I enjoyed her tour of the excellent shows (two of which include handmade paper!) that highlight the collection as well as current art faculty, plus a site visit to the classrooms where I'd teach the next day. Because Cat recommended it, Melissa took me to Beads and Things, and I wished for more time to spend browsing. We zipped through Passion Works, then back to campus to start meetings and presentations. I was fascinated by Christy Gavitt's talk about her work in North Korea in the late 1990s and sad I could only stay for the first part of Bruce Fulton's talk about translating Korean literature into English, since we had to set up for the meeting, plenary, and food in another building.

After the meeting and eating ended, we went out for drinks and I got to spend more time with the younger leadership of the organization. Jenna Gibson is at Notre Dame and Ekaterina Mozhaeva at Stanford's Center for East Asian Studies (with my book and me above), and both began their service in Korea on Fulbright ETA grants. The founders of Friends of Korea established Korean Studies around the world at a time when it did not exist in the academy or really on anyone's radar, and set a foundation for future generations to evolve the field. I wasn't able to see Jenna's and Ekaterina's presentations/panels but loved sharing Fulbright Korea stories and admire their dedication to the field early in their careers. We could be frank about the racial makeup of the org, and what role Korean diaspora have in it. Hope to see more of them soon!

Thankfully, I rode with them back to the hotel to get some rest for my joomchi workshop the next day (the youngest people left first, haha). I was prepared for 40 students, which really tested the table space of the museum, but it worked out great! Everyone was very engaged and seemed to enjoy themselves. Saturday mornings can start slow but this group was chipper, no complaints. There were two adjoining rooms and somehow I crammed them all into one for the demo, and then they spread back out to work for the rest of the time.

I don't have a picture, but I was also presented a big check to support a scholarship for a future Hanji Retreat student next year! I'm so grateful and will share more about that later.

It was a lovely mix of community members, OU students, Friends of Korea members, and museum staff. Beautiful weather as well the entire visit.

I was happy to also have the daughter, granddaughter, and protegé of Sara Gilfert in the class. I never got to meet Sara or visit Paper Circle when it was open, but they were very much on the papermaking in Ohio radar when I moved to the state.

Melissa and her son started to put hanji up on the windows to dry since there was zero table space to do otherwise, and everyone followed their lead.

You never ever know what a group of students will produce; this was a fantastic way to follow up my talk the day prior. Nothing beats handling hanji and working in tactile and communal ways.

We went out for lunch afterwards and then revisited Passion Works. We were instructed in all photos to show off the tote bags that an OU student designed admirably. Gerry took this photo, L to R: me, Becky (who works with Gerry at OU), Jenna, Ekaterina, Anne, and Rob. Once Gerry took us back to the hotel in the van to transfer my teaching materials to my car, he of course insisted on giving me enormous amounts of leftover food (which I then redistributed back in Cleveland). Thanks to him and Rob for taking and sharing these photos!

I should stop at that last pic to emphasize the fabulous people who made this all happen, but instead, I'm sharing the excess amount of food I ordered at a Vietnamese place near the international market in Columbus that Gerry recommended (I had already stopped on the way to Athens at a Japanese market that he told me about). I didn't believe that the bánh mì was going to be a foot long until it arrived (don't worry, I packed it to take home). It took at least three days for me to recover from but I'm grateful we made it work and happy to be in the fold. At times like this, it is always a blessing to meet new friends and colleagues, to celebrate service to others, and eat like a champ!

Minneapolis papermaking conference

Last month, I returned to Minneapolis for the first time in over a decade to teach, present, volunteer, and vend at the hand papermaking conference hosted by the Minnesota Center for Book Arts. I was so happy to reunite with my former students, now friends, over nearly a week in the strangely summery weather. Michelle, Justine, Steph, Veronica, and I enjoyed dinner at Diane's Place.I taught a full-day paper thread class on my first day, which then went straight into the conference. I repeated that class after the conference ended to a different group, and both classes were over the max for MCBA and myself. But the students were gracious and made it work in the space we had. I learn so much every time I teach, and was glad to be able to apply the lessons from the first class to the second. I used to teach all of this and more in a tiny amount of time but I'm finally learning that less is more.

Lignin scientist Dr. Ulrike Tschirner gave a fantastic keynote: clear, concise, and fun, which made me wish we had far more interaction on a regular basis between papermakers and scientists who work in the same field.

Then I presented my talk on toolmakers. Immediately before I was introduced, I made the mistake of checking my email and discovering that our friend, colleague, maker, and person extraordinaire Jim Croft, was nearing the end of his relationship with cancer. I began my presentation by sharing the news to explain why I was starting by crying. He's with his family at home now and it's unbearable to know that we don't get more years with him, but he continues to live in grace as he celebrates every hour of life.

[Lisa above is showing one of the very popular Hand Papermaking portfolios to Lauren & Justine. I love using this one in my Oberlin class every January; students love it.] Because I was teaching, presenting, volunteering, and vending, I had almost no down time or even a chance to run out for lunch with friends. But they took good care of me and brought me things to eat while selling books. And vending is always a great time to catch up with adjacent colleagues. I was grateful to sell out of the toolmaker books I had shipped, and to watch the panel of three of my subjects, Lee McDonald, David Reina, and Brian Queen, talk about their work. Hopefully more younger folks will be inspired to follow their trajectories.

After I had fulfilled all of my obligations, I was excited to share dinner with dear longtime friend and ceramic artist Juliane at Owamni. She kindly drove us through the madness of Vikings game traffic (since my last visit, the football stadium has since moved very close to MCBA, and what was a quiet neighborhood suddenly became a very bro-y sea of purple) to get my teaching supplies to the hotel and then off to a delicious meal. We walked a bit afterwards and can you believe that I didn't realize until my last day that the river that runs through this town is the Mississippi?! I only thought of it in the middle and southern parts of the country, not way up top. Also, I assumed that all of it was giant. But this is the best way to learn, by being right there and passing by it day after day.

Yes, I returned to Diane's Place on my last morning before leaving town. Steph reported that the chicken noodle soup at breakfast was excellent, Lisa and I each got a bowl before we parted ways, and I saved a pastry for the airport. I hadn't been to a papermaking conference since 2012 so it filled my well to convene with old and new friends, while strange to feel this shift in the demographics: my elders were not there, and there were so many new young faces, which means...are WE the old heads now?! It reminded me of how much work we have to do but also how many willing hands we have. I almost cried when talking the last night to Cat Liu, when she said that she would not be in the field if not for me. She was not trying to kiss my ass and it was a surprise to hear it from someone I hadn't yet met or worked with, yet immediately resonant. I wish I had had more time to process everything, but had to get ready for the next gig, and the next, right away. More on that soon!