Meet Jee Eun (Lara) Lee

We were lucky to catch up with Jee Eun (Lara) Lee recently and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Jee Eun (Lara), thank you so much for making time for us today. Let’s jump right into a question so many in our community are looking for answers to – how to overcome creativity blocks, writer’s block, etc. We’d love to hear your thoughts or any advice you might have.

When I feel creatively blocked, it’s usually when questions like “Why am I trying so hard to maintain this? What’s the point of all this effort?” start to surface. My old desire to gain money, an art-related career, or even fame and joy through art fades away, and I lose sight of why I create at all.

Since I decided to become an artist at a young age, I think I’ve always treated art as something to master or as a way to prove my ability. But after finishing school and entering society in New York City, surrounded by real issues like money and visa status, and among so many brilliant, restless people, as well as countless art museums and galleries that make me love the city so much, I came to realize that art isn’t something to conquer. It’s just one of many things quietly existing in the world.

Family, relationships, hobbies, religion, investments, art, etc. are all choices that can enrich life. Where I devote my limited energy and affection is up to me. I’ve learned to focus on what feels right for me at each moment. So even if art drifts away from the center of my life, I’ve decided that it’s okay. It might be temporary, or it might be a permanent shift. Either way, what matters most is the joy of simply living.

I like the phrase “the purposeless purpose of art.” When I loosen my grip and see art through contemplation rather than obsession, creativity flows more freely and naturally. That’s how I keep from losing my creative drive, by letting go.

Sometimes, when an exhibition opportunity comes up through colleagues or professors, I make a few new works. And I still dream of a time when I can create more freely on a stable foundation. For now, I’m living through this uncertain in-between phase. Maybe I’m just rationalizing my current situation with convenient excuses instead of working harder to build the conditions I need as an artist. But I believe that even this uncomfortable avoidance, this ambivalence and longing, is something I have to endure anyway.

As a creator, what allows me to reconnect with art is my belief in its value, a conviction that has slowly formed through education, art communities, and the joy I’ve experienced through art itself. On a practical level, my plans to sustain a creative life such as securing studio rent, material costs, time, and a good community help me stay close to art. That environment may not ignite a blazing fire of inspiration, but it feels like a small shelter that keeps the spark from going out.

Thanks, so before we move on maybe you can share a bit more about yourself?

Lately, I’ve been continuing my “Ground” series that came back to me after a long pause. It’s about tracing the roots of my senses and the logic behind my choices. Like its title, Ground asks where my foundation really lies. It might come from influences outside, from old habits, or from the aesthetics that have settled in me through my education. I try to define and visualize those origins, sometimes by reducing them, sometimes by amplifying them. Over time, the series has grown from an old experimental piece I made when I just got in graduate school, into new works created in the small apartment where I now live. The process, the objects, and the images keep changing, but the language that is uniquely mine persists.

I began my studies with Korean Painting in college. Then I came to the US for grad school and changed my major to Sculpture and at that time, there was a strong atmosphere that we had to search for regarding what Korean beauty is and means. Also postmodern art education felt radical yet conservative, critical yet deeply traditional. Japanese modern art, Western art theory, and our own history of painting all overlapped in strange ways. Within that mix, my colleagues and I tried to define what our aesthetics could be. I remember the confusion that followed, a kind of restlessness that stayed with me for a long time.

Now, years later, I notice that the Korean sense I once tried to find has returned in different forms and through different stories. Back then, I was searching for something that didn’t really exist, an ideal beauty that was never one thing to begin with. It’s not a statement I make on purpose. It simply appears, almost by accident, through my own taste and intuition. That discovery, the process of recognizing what has already settled in me, feels like the most exciting part of my work right now. I have a Korean sensibility because I am Korean. But it does not speak for every Korean. It speaks for me. The indie bands I loved and the K-pop songs that shaped my youth were all influenced by something outside, and yet they became ours. That hybridity, the act of transforming and recreating, feels to me like the real texture of Korean beauty today.

My experience with religion is not so different. I grew up in Presbyterian Christianity without ever questioning its roots. After moving to the United States, I learned that this version of faith had traveled through the Middle East and Europe, transformed in America, and somehow arrived in Korea. At first that realization felt hollow, but it also made many things clear. The layers that make me who I am became visible. Even if the origin of what I believe is not noble or sacred, it still belongs to me. Accepting that made everything lighter and gave me a clearer way to understand my own work.

My practice has always been personal and confessional. The “Ground” series continues that way. It is a record of where I came from, what I have seen, and how I have learned to perceive. It is a process that does not need to be too serious anymore. Maybe this ease is something I could only reach because I used to take everything so seriously.

If you had to pick three qualities that are most important to develop, which three would you say matter most?

The three most important things in my artistic journey are creation itself, stability, and developing aesthetic sensitivity through awareness and self-understanding.

First is creation. What matters most for any artist is to keep making, not just for the sake of producing something, but for building a sense of continuity through the work itself. For me, it’s less about completing a perfect piece every time and more about keeping the process alive. Sketches, fragments of ideas, or rough memos can become the foundation for something larger later on. When I keep documenting, collecting, and revisiting those traces, I start to notice unexpected links and rhythms that guide my next steps. Over time, that accumulation of moments and materials becomes a kind of personal language, and that is what keeps me grounded as an artist.

Second is stability. I’ve learned that a certain level of steadiness is essential for sustaining creative work. I think of art as a kind of luxury or margin in my life. I can live without it, but life is much richer when it’s there. For someone like me, who tends to be anxious, that stability becomes part of the foundation for creativity. For me, that could mean financial security, a sense of community, or simply a mental space I can trust.

Third is awareness and connection to the art world. Staying connected to the field and developing sensitivity go hand in hand. Building relationships with institutions, collectives, or fellow artists keeps me close to the flow of art, while looking, learning, and thinking help me understand it more deeply. Visiting galleries, reading the current landscape, and tracing historical contexts all train my perception. Art is not always parallel to thought or expression, but at some point, my experiences and senses connect the two in ways I can’t fully predict. That moment of connection is what keeps me curious and interested in making art.

Right now, I don’t have much money, and I don’t have many friends here. So at the moment, I’m focusing on thinking, observing, and refining myself. These three things are not a sequence, they keep circling around. Depending on the situation, the center shifts, and that feels a lot like life itself. These days, I try to live with that understanding.

Looking back over the past 12 months or so, what do you think has been your biggest area of improvement or growth?

At the beginning of this year, my roommate Lee, who’s really into Korean fortune ‘Saju’, read mine and told me that for three years (2025, 2026, and 2027), I should focus on “taking out the bubbles,” meaning to strip away what’s unnecessary and keep things real. I carved it into my heart even though I’m Christian. Maybe that’s just the Korean thing about me, and it unintentionally became the theme of my year.

Looking back, I realize I’ve spent most of my teens and twenties inflating my sense of self. I admired artists, rock stars, and people who seemed completely free. I thought art would help me become that kind of person, so I kept pushing myself, sculpting this ideal version of who I wanted to be. I think my ego grew faster than my understanding.

So this year has been about deflating, peeling away what’s unnecessary, letting go of pretense, and becoming more honest with myself. Living abroad as an immigrant and starting my first full-time job became part of that process. Between anxiety and patience, loneliness and perseverance, I learned to find balance. I stopped trying to control everything and began observing the world with a quieter mind.

In the past, I believed idealism was romantic. Now I see that sincerity comes from something quieter and steadier. I used to try so hard to be “my best self,” but these days I’m learning to simply be. My late twenties are wrapping up quietly. It feels less like an ending and more like a reset. I’m learning to move at a steadier pace, to keep a bit of space between life and work, and to stay honest with myself.

Still, maybe I really did believe Lee’s fortune, and maybe deep down, I still want to succeed in three years, just as badly as ever.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.jeeeunlee.art/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jeeeun.art