My name is Juyoung Kang. I will also answer if you call me Ju. People can never distinguish when reading my name if I am male or female. If I was cruel, I would leave it to interpretation. But being so I have some kind of pride let it be known that I am female. See my visions. Born and raised in Philadelphia, I had to learn to be tough-skinned. It is the city with the title “City of Brotherly Love” however natives know that it is not forgiving. There’s this distinctive aura about a person from the east coast. I believe it is confidence and a firm foundation. Others see it as an egotistic walk. I believe that my first love of art began when I was five. My father was the steering wheel to the pathway of color and design. He understood my interests of holding onto my figments of imagination. He allowed me to dream and put it on paper. My mother helped support that steering with a foundation of reality. She taught me how to ideally see my visions, run with it and make it into reality. My parents are the reasons why I am the person I am today. They are the constant voice in my head and the unconditional belief of how love of something exists. I consider everything to be fragments. Words, pictures, visions, dreams, fear, life. That way you have the ball in your court at all times. I am a lover of words. A philosopher of visions. A dreamer of pictures. Afraid of traps for I am a free spirit. And I am high off of life. Whenever I get myself involved in a project, it never goes according to plan. My visions say one thing, but as soon as I get in it changes. My intuition is the forceful drive to the final result of my artwork. Sometimes other elements force me to change my initial proposal. Most of the time, I have no clue as to why I am doing such things. After some time and thought, it all comes together. An epiphany will burst in my mind and my heart will agree and my body will do a dance. What haunts me in my dreams becomes my work. What makes me laugh in life are etched in my memory. What drives me insane I would like to cage forever. And in the words of Marcel Proust: “The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” I leave this for you to interpret: Caged birds sing too.