Part 9: Those Who Set Out a Little Earlier

Theme: Paths, Inspiration, and Connection

1 — Is there someone whose story made you feel, “I can do this too”?

The first people who made me think “I can also do this” were my teachers, Teacher Gesang and Teacher Li. Through their way of living, I saw the kind of life I longed for. I realized: Oh, people can live like this. People can create like this.

At the time, I was still at St. John’s College, studying classical literature, ancient Greek, and music from freshman to senior year—nothing related to visual art. But that summer, I visited the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and the atmosphere there moved me deeply. That was the first moment I thought: How could I walk toward a life like this?

During that period, I began studying many artists’ journeys. On Instagram I followed creators I admired and discovered that several of my favorite artists had studied at the Royal Drawing School—my first time hearing about it. I later enrolled in one of their short courses and loved their teaching and creative philosophy so much that I committed to their full-year online drawing program.

I would carefully study these artists’ CVs: their paths, training, exhibitions… These became references for understanding how an artistic life can unfold. Their existence helped me believe: I can do it too.

2 — What common threads do they share?

The most obvious commonality is this:
I genuinely love their work.
Because their work moved me, I wanted to learn about their stories—their interviews, conversations, creative processes.

Of course, their backgrounds vary widely:
Some studied biology and infused their art with microbiology, bones, or cellular structures; some came from entirely unrelated fields yet carved out a distinctive artistic language.

But if I had to identify a single shared trait, it would be persistence.

Whether or not they had formal training, whether or not they frequently exhibited, they all kept creating—year after year, sometimes decade after decade. Their work has always been the core of their persistence. That long-term dedication is the most precious connection I feel with them.

3 — What have you learned from conversations with people who transitioned into art from other fields?

From talking with people who shifted from law, finance, and other fields to art, I’ve sensed a special kind of determination and strength.

They truly gave up many things they had already earned. They step into art with a mindset of “there is no turning back.” These people often have immense courage, and they walk their path with unusual clarity and conviction.

4 — Was there a moment when someone truly “understood” you, making you feel closer to being seen?

Yes—at an art exhibition many years ago.

A woman stopped in front of one of my portraits. It was a girl with her eyes lowered. She stood there for a long, long time. She didn’t speak to me or to anyone else—she simply stood there and looked.

Eventually, she walked away quietly.
But in that moment, I felt profoundly understood.

I don’t know what she was thinking of, but from her gaze and stillness, I felt a wordless connection. That silent resonance touched me more than any compliment or purchase ever could. Even now, that moment remains one of the most precious experiences of being understood.

5 — What kind of “art community” do you hope for in the future?

I already see some early forms of meaningful communities around me—like Now Place in San Francisco, or The Accent Sisters in New York, which has become a fertile space for writers.

My ideal future art community would be inclusive and generous. People would encourage one another. Those who resonate with one another would naturally gather. Anyone who cares about art would find a place.

It would be a space where people see each other, exchange ideas, and lift each other up.

6 — If you could give one piece of advice to those who come after you, what would it be?

I would say:
Anyone can become an artist—but it requires ongoing effort and a clear sense of direction.

Art is not made of constant highlights. 99.9% of it involves self-doubt, darkness, and struggle. But the doubts others have about you will fade as you consistently produce work.
No one questions whether I am an artist anymore—but I still remember the early days when people asked, “Have you learned drawing?” “Do you have a portfolio?” Everyone starts from zero.

The beauty of art is that it doesn’t require you to begin at age ten. You can start at twenty, thirty, fifty, even eighty. As long as you are determined and willing to push beyond your limits.

But I’ve seen many people take a few drawing classes, draw something realistic or pretty, and then assume they are artists. That’s not how it works. A true artist must understand art history, know what others are making, and know their place within the ecosystem. Only then—and only through continued creation and expression—does one become an artist.

Otherwise, it remains at the level of copying for likeness or those “sip wine and paint” activities.

That’s not art—that’s entertainment.
I don’t encourage people to copy a reference painting obsessively, trying to make it identical. That erases your soul and thinking.

So if I had to give just one piece of advice, it would be:
Learn art history.

Art history isn’t dry—it’s alive, full of culture, poetry, economics, politics. I truly believe that anyone who loves art will want to break through their cognitive walls and embrace it.

If someone is unwilling to learn art history at all, I find it difficult to imagine them becoming a real artist.