k-Studio sessions
Some artists spend years curating the picture perfect workspace. Eun Lee is not one of those artists.
When she moved into her studio a year ago, there was no grand decoration phase and no particular attempt to make it cozy. She simply dragged in her canvases, set up the absolute essentials, and got to work. For Eun, this personal brand of minimalism is a survival strategy. Having crossed international borders, she has learned how to pack up her entire creative life at a moment’s notice without losing so much as a shred of her identity in the process.
Eun needs not agonize over lighting, furniture, and climate control. By keeping her physical environment stripped back, she protects her works from the burden of constant relocation. Her finished pieces may manifest as stable eco-sanctuaries, but behind that pristine surface lies a fierce, unsentimental capacity to adapt to the winds of transnational life.
Eun’s daily creative ritual begins during the commute to the studio. She passes through the Englischer Garten, a vast green space stretching across Munich. These daily meanderings slow the pace, allowing her to track the subtle transitions of the seasons. As creativity begins to breathe, she instinctively collects the fleeting fragments of color, light, and mood, carrying them back to the studio.
Upon arrival, she brews a hot drink and gazes out the window to clear her mind before flowing into production. If work is underway, she picks up the brush immediately. If she is in the conceptual trenches, she pulls out her cherished notebook and expands scribbled sentences of text into something more visual and immersive. At other times, sudden flashes of inspiration hijack her plans, channeling her into a state of spontaneous reaction as the canvas develops a mind of its own.
The studio itself is embedded within a vibrant artist collective; a maze of closed doors where creators from all disciplines are tucked away, buried in their respective crafts. Eun derives genuine comfort in this shared solitude, and sometimes, merely observing the glowing monitors and paint-splattered windows of peers is enough to recharge her batteries.
Twice a year, however, the fortress opens up. The collective hosts an open studio event, and the entire block bursts into a buzzing hive of public curiosity. Eun welcomes these brief moments of visibility, inviting strangers into her bare-bones space to watch her process and bask in the raw energy of the room.
At the end of the working day, the canvas stays on the wall, but the image follows Eun home down the promenade. The inner dialogue continues on a loop, her mind replaying the rhythm of recent brushstrokes, questioning creative choices, and visualizing layers to come.
On the cusp of the Alps, Eun frequently heads into the mountains and lakes to hike. Despite being so geographically far from her original home, the textures of Mother Earth form an emotional bridge, connecting her to both worlds simultaneously. More than a place of reprieve, the landscape of Munich is the very soil where her next canvas takes root.
