For Mimi Jung, an artist whose practice centers on handwoven tapestry and sculpture, her work is often biographical, formed by her psyche and landscape.
She splits her time between LA and Montana, where she’s building a new studio on nine acres of lush wilderness—an exciting but loud, chaotic task, she says.
Back in LA, Mimi starts her workday around 9am, structuring out the day in silence, a time “where I can be alone with my thoughts, free from interruptions,” she says. “I’m then either sketching, weaving, sculpting, mounting, all in some kind of constant rhythmic, meditative motion until the end of the day. My studio time is the most fabulous silent party for one.”
Her recent “Cloud” series is a continuation of a key theme in her work, the relationship between space and matter, with each piece an ode to the transitional shapes clouds take as they drift across the sky.
“The visual reference was based on looking through a wooden-slotted pergola up at the sky,” Mimi says, “the impermanent cloud formations passing in between the fixed grid, the wooden slots, reflected in the warp and weft itself, is a direct interpretation. The clouds glide in between voids, never quite catching up.”
A version of this article originally appeared in Sixtysix Issue 06 with the headline “Mimi Jung: Artist, LA and Helena, Montana.” Subscribe today.