Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Hiromi Moneyhun. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Hi Hiromi, thanks for joining us today. Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?

All my projects are meaningful, but the one that stands out in my mind is Adrift, which was a commissioned piece.

For me, the most salient feature of Adrift was the amount of time and effort it took to complete. Discussions with the client began in December of 2020, and preliminary sketches were complete by February. Final drawing and cutting of paper went on for about four to five months. At that point, I had to rent a large space for the last phase, which was the fabrication of large panels to mount the papercut, and this is where my husband got involved. We were a but nervous about something going wrong, but it never did–from the building of the panels to the mounting of the papercut to the hanging of the three strategically placed panels on the wall of our rented space. Then we had to take the piece down and repeat the hanging process in the client’s home, which was a challenge, as it was up a stairwell of a historic residence with old plaster-and-lathe walls. In the end, all went like clockwork on this 10-month project. I think that we felt a sense of triumph after the final installation.

Another significant aspect of Adrift is the totally free hand that was granted to me by the client. Basically, she said, “You’re the artist. Do what you will.” She trusted me 100%. And she seemed pleased by the final product, which, of course, is extremely gratifying.

Finally, there is the subject matter of Adrift: ocean pollution and commercial fishing nets that are part of “ghost fishing.” I don’t spend time in the ocean, but as a Japanese person, I eat a lot of seafood, and I now live very near the Florida shore, so ocean pollution is a relevant topic for me. For this reason, Adrift is near and dear to my heart.

Hiromi, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

I have been drawing all of my life, from childhood. There is a real compulsion at work here. Eventually my drawing led me to papercutting, which is much more common in my native Japan than it is in the West, I grew up looking at papercuts the way that Westerners grow up looking at paintings. So that’s the foundation. Then in 2010, I became the primary caregiver for an ill family member. The duty whiplashed between intense rounds of caregiving and long spells of downtime while my family member slept. It didn’t take long for me to get busy filling in the downtime and seeking relief from the stress of being a home nurse. Art has always been my special place, and there was never a time in my life than the period I just described in which art truly came to my rescue. By 2012, I knew that this is what I was doing. It has been steady growth ever since.

My primary art form is papercut–“kirie” in Japanese. While my final products are single, large pieces of cut paper, my art rests heavily on my drawing and drafting skills. My pieces are basically drawings that I cut from the surrounding paper. It’s that simple. Lo-tech. All hand-done. Pencil, pen, X-Acto knife, cutting mat. Those are my tools.

I think that what sets me apart the most is the art form itself, but I have to qualify that assertion with “in the West.” As I said above, kirie (papercutting) is common in Japan and in other parts of Asia. There are other papercut artists in America, but we are few and far between. Besides the form, I like to think that I’m also set apart by my artistic skills.

I guess what I’m proud of is the fact that I’m still creating art after all these years and that I feel as if I’m still growing as a creator and as a working artist.

I would tell my clients/followers/fans that I’m busier then ever and that I am constantly working on my art full time. This is not a hobby or a part time thing for me. This is my life. It is a huge part of who I am. I am devoted and committed to it.

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

Go to shows and exhibits of your local artists. Get out there and see what the artists in your area are making. And if you’re able, buy and collect the work. Put yourself in the shoes of one of those 1910 Parisians who went to one of the first shows of the young and little known Pablo Picasso and purchased a still affordable piece of early cubist art. Wow! It may be difficult for a lot of people to think of their neighbor–the artist across the street–in those terms, but that’s what I’m talking about. There are working artists everywhere. Find one or more that you like, and support them as best as you can.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.

When most people think of the phrase “struggling artist,” they usually conjure up someone who is short on cash and all that it buys–rent, food, other bills. But that only applies to those artists who are surviving or trying to survive only on proceeds from their art. But what do all artists–regardless of their financial situation–face? T.S. Eliot came from a fairly well-to-do American family and became a banker and publisher before winning the Nobel prize as an older man. But clearly, he struggled with issues as a human being and as an artist.

I believe that the thing that non-creatives would struggle to understand is the very real truth in the saying, “You’re only as good as the last great thing you did.” Every time I finish a piece, I’m faced with the dilemma of “Can I create what I think I’m thinking?” and, in terms of the previous work, “Can I do that again?” Every new piece is a fresh challenge, but not the challenge that most people would imagine. I feel that I have plenty of ideas, and I know that I possess the skills required to execute. The challenge to which I’m referring is to accurately transfer the abstract idea from my mind to the piece of art that does even not exist yet. It’s not like transferring known data from one thumb drive to another, which is simple because thumb drives are built to accept and store data. Instead, it’s like trying to transfer unknown data from a thumb drive to a banana, which seems impossible, except I know that I can do it. I just have to figure out how.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.hiromipapercut.com
• Instagram: http://instagram.com/hiromimoneyhun
• Facebook: http://facebook.com/profile.php?id=100034784361675

Image Credits
“Photo courtesy of Macbeth Studio” for first four images. “Courtesy of the artist” for last two images.