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Seoyoung Moon
SOUTH KOREA
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“Painting helps me turn silence into movement and color again.”
Seoyoung Moon is a multidisciplinary artist whose work dissolves the boundaries between creative disciplines. From an early age, she never understood why art needed to exist in separate categories. For her, art has always been a language of blending, where colors, sounds, and movements come together to form something entirely new. Even as a child, she was fascinated by how two colors could merge into an unexpected hue or how a familiar song could feel renewed when performed live. Her early ballet lessons taught her to see rhythm in human motion, a skill that still informs the way she paints figures in movement. This openness to multiple forms of expression has become the foundation of her artistic philosophy.
Life Before I67.5 | Watercolor
15 X 20
A watercolor piece incorporating Korean techniques learned during my early art education. Each object carries specific meaning: a sunflower from our family’s amusement park visit, an apple symbolizing myself before illness, art supplies reflecting my artistic journey, and a jar containing slide film representing my former memory abilities. The composition merges technical precision with personal narrative.
Moon believes that creativity thrives when one form of art inspires another. Her practice is rooted in curiosity and in the desire to connect different emotional languages. She often combines painting with sound and performance, exploring how the senses interact to shape a viewer’s response. Her work is both experimental and intuitive, guided by a fascination with how light, motion, and material evoke feeling. She describes her process as a conversation among the senses, where sight, hearing, and touch overlap to create a fuller experience of meaning. Through these intersections, she invites viewers not just to see art but to feel it.
When The Whole World Feels Like It's Mine | Acrylic
16 X 16
This work depicts a green apple surrounded by flowers encased in plastic wrap. The apple is my immature self, while the flowers symbolize happy memories. The plastic wrap refers to a self-imposed barrier between myself and reality, creating a cocoon of pleasant recollections. I created this work thinking that when I die, I want to die only with happy memories.
Her path toward becoming an artist was gradual and filled with self-discovery. Although she loved to draw, she once believed that art was something only others could master. In her early years she copied famous artworks as technical studies, focusing on accuracy rather than emotion. These exercises improved her skill but left her disconnected from her own voice. Over time she learned that art could come from within, carrying both pain and joy. She began to see that technique alone was not enough, and that true creativity comes from vulnerability and sincerity.
“Every layer I paint is another step toward recovery.”
A profound turning point arrived when she was diagnosed with Moyamoya disease, a rare and incurable condition that narrows the blood vessels in the brain. To prevent a hemorrhage, she underwent three major surgeries on the right, left, and upper regions of her brain. When she regained consciousness, she could not move or speak, able only to blink. The sterile white ceiling of the intensive care unit became her entire world. Time lost shape, and silence pressed down like a weight that could not be measured.
I67.5 | Watercolor
12 X 9
A self-portrait incorporating my actual CT scan, with strategic stapling that mirrors surgical placement. The piece takes its title from the ICD-10-CM medical code for Moyamoya disease, reflecting how clinical documentation becomes interwoven with personal identity.
A self-portrait incorporating my actual CT scan, with strategic stapling that mirrors surgical placement. The piece takes its title from the ICD-10-CM medical code for Moyamoya disease, reflecting how clinical documentation becomes interwoven with personal identity.
The broken and partially melted KitKat represents what is left of me after having faced a severe illness that kept me out of school for more than 6 months in 7th grade. Although melted and broken, the KitKat depicts me with the resilience and knowledge I gained. The sharp objects are the actual pain and suffering I experienced, not only from the illness itself but also from my friends. By including those objects aiming at the KitKat, I also acknowledge the future obstacles.
Getting the upgrade | Pencil
12 X 18
One day, something changed. Through the smallest act, a single blink, she began to see color again. What had seemed blank and lifeless revealed soft gradients of light and shadow. The ceiling, once cold and empty, came alive with subtle reflections and warmth. In that moment she realized that beauty is not something external but something revealed through awareness. This awakening reshaped her vision forever, teaching her to see the extraordinary within the ordinary and to honor even the quietest sensations.
“I create to transform the weight of my experience into light, to show that even stillness holds rhythm and every scar can become art.”
“When I paint, I return to the moment when everything stopped. The silence after my surgeries was heavy, but within it I found color again. That memory never leaves me. Each brushstroke I make is an act of listening to that silence, of turning what once felt like loss into creation. My work is not about forgetting pain but transforming it. I believe that art allows us to see what the body remembers when words fail. When I mix colors, I think of breathing, of life returning in small motions. I paint to remember that beauty can exist even in fragility, that movement can emerge from stillness. Art is the space where healing begins, not through perfection, but through honesty. It teaches me that the smallest gesture can hold an entire story, and in that story there is always light."
As movement slowly returned to her body, Moon began painting again. Each trembling brushstroke became a step toward recovery and a declaration of life. The act of creation helped her rebuild not only strength but identity. Encouraged by her mother, she applied to the Busan Middle School of Arts and was accepted after months of careful preparation. She later attended the Busan High School of Arts, majoring in Western Art. There she developed discipline in drawing, sculpture, design, and art history, forming the foundation for her emerging style and conceptual depth.
Tired of Despair | Watercolor
12 X 9
This piece shows me at age 2, when I hit my head against the wall and cried for my father’s attention. I’m so different now as I’ve given up on trying to get noticed by him. These memories sometimes come back as bad dreams, but I’ve grown numb to the pain of having a father who wasn’t really there for me. I made this piece about my father because, whether I like it or not, he shaped who I am today.
After years of formal study, Moon wanted to broaden her perspective beyond tradition. She chose to move to the United States to understand how art interacts with everyday life. Rather than attending a specialized art school, she pursued a program that balanced artistic and general education, believing that creativity touches every field. Living abroad exposed her to new cultures and ways of thinking, helping her grow more independent and confident. These experiences taught her that art is not only a profession but also a way of being in the world.
This piece reflects my experience living with Moyamoya disease and the impact it has had on my memory. The scattered slides represent lost memories, symbolizing moments that have faded or slipped away from me. The syringe and vials represent my current treatment, where I receive an injection every 28 days. Despite switching medications and going through countless tests, I haven’t seen much improvement with my headaches. The pain is constant, and with it comes the fear of losing more memories.
EVERY 28 DAYS | Mixed Media
18 X 14
This piece reflects my experience living with Moyamoya disease and the impact it has had on my memory. The scattered slides represent lost memories, symbolizing moments that have faded or slipped away from me. The syringe and vials represent my current treatment, where I receive an injection every 28 days. Despite switching medications and going through countless tests, I haven’t seen much improvement with my headaches. The pain is constant, and with it comes the fear of losing more memories.
Today, Moon is pursuing a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Collaborative Arts at New York University. Her current work explores the relationship between painting, sound, and performance, bridging the personal and the collective. She uses her experiences of illness and recovery as a source of insight into vulnerability and transformation. Every new project becomes an experiment in communication, showing how materials, textures, and rhythms can express emotions that lie beyond language. Through her expanding practice, she continues to question what art can be and how it can connect people on a deeper level.
This piece represents my journey with moyamoya disease, expressed through a series of three apples:
The green apple symbolizes myself before knowing about the disease. The middle apple represents the immediate aftermath of diagnosis and surgery. The apple with the exposed brain depicts my current state of fullying accepting moyamoya.
Apples of Awareness | Mixed Media
11 X 11
“Light reminds me that even pain can hold quiet beauty.”
Dorm Room Twilight | Oil
18 X 14
From my RISD dorm window, I captured the transition between day and night, when city lights begin to illuminate the darkening sky. Through oils, I explored how artificial and natural lights interact, focusing on the subtle color shifts that occur during twilight.
Moon describes her paintings as visual diaries that record both emotion and memory. Each object, gesture, and color carries part of her story, yet remains open for interpretation. Viewers are invited to look closely, to notice small details that emerge slowly, and to feel the atmosphere hidden within the surface. Living with illness has heightened her awareness of fragility and beauty. She sees art not as an escape from her condition but as a dialogue with it, a way to translate pain into meaning and silence into color.
I’ve wanted to make this piece for years because of my rocky relationship with my father. Whenever we argued, I wrote him “sorry” letters, even when I wasn’t wrong. This artwork displays copies of those old letters, along with recent items from my life (hospital bills and plane tickets) pinned on a bulletin board. I created this piece for myself, not for him. It reminds me and shows others just how resilient I’ve become. Despite all these struggles with family and health, I’m still standing.
There's Nothing Left | Mixed Media
47 X 70
Ultimately, Seoyoung Moon’s work speaks about transformation. What began as a path to recovery has evolved into a language of resilience and hope. Through painting, performance, and collaboration, she turns personal struggle into universal reflection. Each piece affirms that creativity can turn hardship into healing and uncertainty into light. Her art is both testimony and invitation, reminding viewers that even in their most fragile moments, beauty and strength remain within reach. In every layer of color, in every quiet motion, she continues to celebrate the power of life itself.
Luminous | Charcoal
25.5 X 19.5
This piece was created during my time at the RISD pre-college program, where I experimented with white charcoal on black paper. This work represents my exploration of negative space and the power of highlighting everyday objects.
“Through art, I rediscover strength hidden in my fragility.”
Seoyoung Moon
www.https://wp.nyu.edu/tischschoolofthearts-venronbon/
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