An Inspired Chat with JiHee Nam of Brooklyn

We’re looking forward to introducing you to JiHee Nam. Check out our conversation below.

Hi JiHee, thank you for taking the time to reflect back on your journey with us. I think our readers are in for a real treat. There is so much we can all learn from each other and so thank you again for opening up with us. Let’s get into it: Have you ever been glad you didn’t act fast?
Yes, I think these days I’ve started to appreciate not being in a constant rush truly. We live in a world where there’s this constant pressure to stay updated, to respond immediately, to move quickly. Hartmut Rosa calls it the “social acceleration”—the constant need to keep pace with an increasingly fast-paced world.

But I think there’s a different kind of value in slowing down. Not acting fast can mean that you’re not driven by anxiety or comparison. You become more grounded in your own pace, and that’s powerful in a society where it often feels like the fastest people get everything first.

In another sense, choosing not to rush can reflect a deeper respect—for people, for process, and for yourself. It shows that you’re not reacting out of fear or competition, but out of genuine interest and self-belief. You’re open to people from all walks of life, and you’re not phased by social pressure. I’ve come to see that as a quiet kind of strength.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi, my name is JiHee Nam. I am a Brooklyn-based animator and filmmaker. My work is deeply rooted in exploring the complexities of human relationships—both internal and external. I focus on the subtle, everyday moments that shape our experiences. I primarily work with traditional 2D animation, expanded through digital techniques, blending these methodologies to create experimental narratives that reflect the nuances of human connection.

Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
There isn’t one specific moment. I think it’s more like ceramics—things are constantly being added, shaped, or taken away. In that sense, I often feel like I’m watching the world from a third-person perspective, observing it shift and evolve. The people you meet from childhood to now, the experiences you go through—they all contribute in subtle ways. My view of the world is constantly changing. Some days, I feel like we’ve failed as a society. But then, there are these small, quiet moments: someone gives you a free drink, a friendly cashier at Trader Joe’s (even if they’re trained to be that way), or you step outside and just know it’s going to be an okay, peaceful day. And suddenly, the world feels kind again.

So my perspective shifts. One day I see the world one way, the next day another. It’s all molded by how I interact with each passing moment, each person, each experience. They become the seasonings that subtly change the flavor of how I see things.

Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Constantly, haha. I think there’s a unique emotional cycle we go through when we try something, and it usually falls into three paths: try, give up, and never look back; try, don’t give up, and still fail; or try, almost give up, but end up succeeding. Each of these brings its own kind of growth. They all harden or shape you in some way. But truthfully, I rarely fully give up. It’s more like: I try, and I either fail or succeed. And both come with their own emotional weight. Sometimes after failing, I’ve found myself in a deep, quiet space—like a personal black hole. Other times, I can step back and see the failure as just a small moment in a much larger journey. Even success isn’t a finish line—it just becomes the beginning of the next step.

What I’ve come to realize over time is that the process itself is what really matters to me. Not just the outcome, but the act of showing up, trying, thinking, making, adjusting. That’s where the real value is. I’ve felt all the highs and lows, but now it’s easier to move forward, because I trust that the process is what carries me, even when the result is unclear.

Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. Is the public version of you the real you?
I think every version of me is real—just in different ways. We’re made up of layers, like a main core with sub-layers that adapt to different situations. Each version fits into a different context of who we are.

It’s both fascinating and a little sad that we have to cope and survive in the world like this. But I suppose, just like the Stone Age had its own rules, this is simply our way of surviving now.

The real question is whether we can draw a line between all the versions we’ve created—whether we can take a step back and see that none of them alone define us completely. Each “you” is like a part of a body: one might be the arm, another the leg, another the face.

Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. If immortality were real, what would you build?
If immortality were real, I think I would find a way to opt out of it. I know that immortality can be interpreted in many ways—no deadlines, no fear of death, endless time. But the idea of living forever feels almost unbearable to me.

I think what gives life meaning is that it ends. It’s the limits—the fact that time runs out—that make our choices, relationships, and creations feel precious. If I knew I had forever, I think I’d lose the sense of urgency, the need to feel deeply and act now.

There are also so many people in the world who already live with pain, illness, or conditions they didn’t choose. To wish for immortality feels unfair when so many struggle just to live one more day. Maybe instead of building something eternal, I’d rather build understanding—something that reminds us that being mortal is what connects us.

I don’t think I want to live forever. I just want to live well enough that, when the time comes, I can leave peacefully, knowing I’ve lived fully.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://jiheenam.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_m__er/?hl=en

Image Credits
All photos are my properties.