Michelle Hwang is an artist based in Atlanta, GA.
Michelle’s journey began when she took on the challenge of painting 100 mini 3-inch by 3-inch canvases to raise money for nonprofits focused on conservation and environmentalism. Although she never finished the challenge to paint all 100, she did raise several hundred dollars. This started the journey into painting, where she developed an interest in other mediums like watercolor and gouache. Since then, painting has evolved from a hobby into a passion that she loves to share.
With flora, fauna, and other aspects of nature as her main subjects, Michelle’s work is a fluid celebration of the natural world. Her travels, ancestry, and experiences all serve as sources of inspiration.
One of her biggest inspirations is her late mother. In her mother’s later years, as her health declined, she found solace in returning to a pastime she once enjoyed—watercolor painting. The paintings her mother left behind continue to be a wellspring of joy and inspiration, both for those who loved her and for Michelle’s own practice.
The logo
Dandelions in the east have been symbols of resilience, hope, and determination because they persevered in the harshest, most unlikely environments. Growing up in the U.S., they were seen as unwanted nuisances. The dandelion is a subtle nod to the Asian immigrant experience and the unwavering strength of those parents that made it possible for us to call ourselves Asian Americans today. The yellow-gold hues of the dandelion speak to the translation of my surname, as well as the complicated history of the term "yellow" for Asian Americans—a rhetoric that was transformed in Katherine Ho's Mandarin rendition of the Coldplay song "Yellow." This was a song that made me feel, for the first time while hearing it soar in the background of Crazy Rich Asians, unabashedly proud to be Asian American.
Cranes
My late mother loved birds and enjoyed watching them at her birdfeeder.
Birds were a frequent subject of her watercolors, which she loved painting on card-sized paper. I remember she would save the free pictures we would get sent in the mail for fundraising efforts from organizations like National Geographic, and then encourage me to use them as references. Alas, at the time, I preferred sitting at the family computer playing games or making silly videos over painting birds.
When she left us, I thought she might be reborn as a bird, and I always pictured an elegant red-crowned crane. It’s a symbol of immortality after all. On the five year anniversary of her death, I had a crane inked on the center of my back.
The crane represents my mother, my spiritual guide, & my protector — I wanted to create a series of paintings that paid tribute to that. Much like the graceful movements of the real bird, this collection of art is painted in a fluid way, a nod to the traditional East Asian style of ink wash painting.