Interview with Traveling Craft Artist Momo — A Craft Artist Who Travels, a Traveler Who Crafts

Momo is a traveling craft artist who turned two of her passions into a career. Faced with the countless paths already laid out in the world, she keeps asking herself, ‘Do I really need to follow this one too?’ — and carves out her own way instead.

Interviewee Hwang Yeji (Traveling Craft Artist Momo)
Interviewer Ryu Sunwoo

What does your everyday life look like these days?
I’m living more like a traveling craft artist than ever. In January, I ran a ‘Chiang Mai Craft Trip,’ and in early March, right after a trip to Taiwan with my husband, I led an ‘Osaka Craft Trip.’ As you can see, my studio is covered in materials, since I have classes scheduled in Daegu, Gwangju, and Busan from next week through May. I guess you become what you name yourself — I called myself a ‘traveling craft artist,’ and now I find myself traveling more and more. (laughs)

How did you end up becoming a ‘traveling craft artist’?
Just calling myself a craft artist felt boring. I kept thinking, ‘Why do I have to pick just one predefined job?’ I hated the idea of being confined to a single label. I loved both traveling and crafting, so I wanted to live doing both. Before this, I worked at a travel startup, which I left in 2017. At the end of that year, I went on a two-month trip to Thailand and Indonesia. During the trip, I’d grab anyone I met and ask what they thought of the idea of becoming a ‘Traveling Craft Artist.’ I’d tell them, ‘What I dream of is making a living by introducing crafts I learn abroad to Korea, then setting off again.’ Everyone responded really positively, saying it sounded like an amazing job. Then the pandemic hit, and that’s when I got this studio space and started running my workshop, Blue Forest.

You mentioned you personally planned trips like the Osaka Craft Trip and Chiang Mai Craft Trip.
Craft trips have been a dream of mine since the moment I decided to become a traveling craft artist. At first, I didn’t have a specific destination in mind — I just had this vague idea that it would be wonderful to share and enjoy something I loved, built around the theme of craft, together with other people. After leaving my job, I used to escape to Chiang Mai every winter to avoid the cold, and over time I built real connections there, even becoming friends with a tour guide from an ethnic minority community. I thought it would be great to gather all the experiences I’d had and turn them into a trip other people could join too. I started preparing during the pandemic, and in January 2024, I finally took my first Chiang Mai Craft Trip. Once I tried it, I wanted to do it again. Drawing on my experience learning weaving in Japan, I ran an Osaka Craft Trip last October. This year, I did second editions of both trips, in January and March. Personally, visiting tourist spots or famous places once is enough for me — I much prefer wandering aimlessly through alleys and stumbling upon things by chance. I realized that kind of experience could feel truly unique to someone else, too.

You seem to open up easily even in unfamiliar environments. Is that just your natural personality, or do you have a particular travel philosophy?
I think it’s just who I am. (laughs) On my very first trip abroad, I backpacked through seven European countries over a month and a half. I remember reassuring my worried mom before I left, saying, ‘People live there too, so don’t worry.’ Since high school, I’d planned to travel to Europe once I got to college, so I’d already made pen pals in Germany and Austria, and applied in advance for a work camp in the Netherlands focused on national park conservation. During my backpacking trip, I spent two weeks on the outskirts of the Netherlands, sleeping in a tent and working alongside friends from eight different countries.

It’s amazing that you’d already made pen pals in advance.
I tend to set clear goals for whatever I want to do. Looking back, I think this tendency started with something I experienced in middle school. My homeroom teacher noticed I liked English and suggested to my mom that I go study abroad. Thanks to my mom’s enthusiastic support, I suddenly found myself on a study trip to Australia. At the time, I couldn’t even communicate in English, but she sent me off hoping it would broaden my horizons. That experience became a huge source of motivation for me. On the flight home, I remember thinking, ‘I’ve been a frog in a well. I almost lived my whole life without knowing how big the world really is.’ Looking back now, I think that was the first turning point in my life.
Later, while working at the travel startup, I had meetings with overseas partners over Skype, went on a trekking trip in Nepal to monitor it firsthand, and even represented the company at a global travel expo in the UK. Naturally, I kept in touch with friends I met abroad along the way. When I went to the UK, I reunited with a French friend I’d met at the work camp in the Netherlands, and when I was in the US, I reached out to a Canadian friend and crossed the border to see her. Even though the physical distance is great, the relationships I’ve built seem to close that gap. All these experiences, piled up over time, made me who I am today.

Was there a particular moment that drew you to natural dyeing?
I actually started with macramé, a Western knotting craft, first. Throughout my school years, I dreamed of becoming a hotelier and went on to major in hotel management, but after doing an internship, I realized it wasn’t the path for me, so I took a leave of absence. During that time, I learned knot-tying crafts and even sold my work at flea markets and concept stores. Around then, I traveled to Japan for a Korea-Japan cultural exchange event and stumbled upon a weaving studio, where I took a one-day class. Two years later, while working a regular job and still doing knot crafts, I found myself wondering if there was a way to make larger pieces more quickly, and I remembered the weaving I’d tried in Japan. I told my boss about it and left for Japan for two weeks. Living as a digital nomad, I learned weaving during the day and handled work at night. Once I learned to weave, I wanted to try dyeing the fabric myself. That’s how I first learned indigo dyeing.

What exactly is indigo dyeing?
It’s a dyeing method that uses pigment extracted from a plant called indigo. Interestingly, indigo dyeing is considered one of the most difficult techniques among natural dyeing methods. I loved the color blue, so it was the first one I learned — only to realize later that I’d started with the hardest one. Fermentation is key to indigo dyeing, and the process sometimes even involves makgeolli (Korean rice wine). Wanting to give it a unique twist, I once ran a workshop called ‘Drunken Dyeing,’ where participants drank makgeolli while dyeing. I guess I have a bit of a contrarian streak — I like being different. There’s no need to do things exactly the way everyone else does.

Among all the work you’ve done as a traveling craft artist, what was the most enjoyable project?
I think the craft trips are what I’m proudest of and what stay with me the most. Even when I travel alone for work, I often think, ‘It would be great to come back here with my students.’ There was such a thrill and sense of satisfaction in seeing things I’d only imagined in my head come to life right in front of me. I’ve tried to run the craft trips in a way that benefits the local community, even in small ways. I could go through an agency, but whenever possible, I reach out first to freelancer friends working locally. Even if the amount isn’t large, it means more if it can be of some help to them.

I’m curious how you bring what you’ve learned while traveling into your current work.
I spent a month each in Indonesia and Thailand learning dyeing techniques. Before I left, I’d research artists whose classes I wanted to take. If I found materials I liked, I’d buy them locally and try working with them again once I got back to Korea. I learned batik in Bali, and I still occasionally teach batik classes at public institutions. Recently, I brought back mineral dyeing materials from Japan and have been testing them. Maybe that’s why my suitcase never has clothes in it — just materials. (laughs)

Is there a piece of work you’ve made that stands out most in your memory?
There’s one project I’d love to try again, but haven’t worked up the courage to. During a period when I was frequently traveling to Jeju Island, I experimented with dyeing using camellia petals and seaweed. It was the season when camellias were in full bloom, and I kept noticing the petals scattered on the ground. I got curious — what color would come from dyeing with these? I tried dyeing with both native camellia and baby camellia varieties, and also gathered seaweed washed up on the beach to dye with. The seaweed, in particular, produced a beautiful beige color. I pulled together the three colors and sold the dyed fabric under the name ‘Jeju Edition.’ I didn’t expect much in terms of orders, but people actually bought it, which surprised and delighted me. There was something personally meaningful about taking natural materials that would otherwise just dry up and disappear — resources nobody pays attention to — and turning them into something people wanted to buy.

It’s interesting that seaweed produces a beige color—so the color you see and the color you extract as dye are different.
That’s right. For example, camellia flowers can yield emerald, purple, or blue. The color you get from rubbing it by hand is different from the color that comes out when you boil it. I think that suits my personality well. Even with the same method, the results are always different, and the same plant doesn’t always produce the same color. It’s the same with the dyeing workshops—even when everyone uses the same materials, the results differ depending on each person’s tendencies, so it never feels dull or repetitive. I’m naturally a bit go-with-the-flow, so I don’t get too caught up in details or worry about things lining up perfectly. If I had gone into furniture making instead, I probably would have made wobbly furniture. (laughs) When I hand fabric to someone who’s used to precise work, they often hesitate, not knowing where to start—but with natural dyeing, honestly, it turns out beautiful no matter what you do. I’m just sharing my own experience as someone who’s tried it before; there’s no single correct answer. So I think of myself more as an encourager than a teacher.

Is there something you hope to convey through the trips or classes you lead with others?
I don’t think I need to satisfy everyone. Instead, I’d rather leave a lasting impression on even just one person. That’s why I still hold a class even if only one person signs up. I put more meaning into continuing steadily than into putting on a big show. I think it’s more valuable to share good energy with each other and create a time when people can simply feel comfortable and at ease.

Is there a destination you’ve already marked for a future craft-themed trip?
If I run another craft travel program, I’d like to go to Indonesia. If I were traveling on my own, I’d love to visit South America, India, or Morocco—places known for dyeing traditions or for their beautiful natural landscapes.

I’m curious how you’d actually travel there.
First, I’d probably think about whether I know anyone there. If I went to South America, I have an Instagram friend—a teacher in Chile—who I stay in touch with often, so I’d likely reach out to her first. Or I might decide where to go based on who I know there. I find myself more curious about the neighborhood where a friend lives than about typical tourist spots—that’s part of what makes traveling fun for me. Oh, and I’d also love to visit the Nordic countries. One of my favorite musicians is Icelandic, and it’s a region where design and craft are highly developed. I’d also love to see, in person, the textile work of the Sámi people—an indigenous group in northern Europe I’ve only ever seen in documentaries. I think all my future travels, whether centered on weaving or dyeing, will always have craft as their theme.

What does travel mean to you, Momo?
Traveling has given me two mottos in life: ‘If not, that’s fine too’ and ‘That can happen.’ When you travel, you run into unexpected situations all the time—and the same goes for life. In those moments, I try to stay positive. ‘If not, that’s fine too’ means letting go of the idea that it has to happen now, trusting that a better time will come. ‘That can happen’ is about being gentle when someone makes a mistake in a relationship, since there’s no guarantee I wouldn’t make the same mistake myself. In a way, it’s also creating a reason to forgive my future self. Maybe that’s why my life feels more at ease these days. I think I travel because it lets me encounter all kinds of situations and experience unexpected things—stepping outside my daily routine, placing myself in unfamiliar surroundings, and learning through that process.

Is there something you’d like to try in the future?
In the short term, I’d like to create my own signature work clothes—like a top made from fabric I wove myself, or pants I dyed myself. There’s also a project I’ve been thinking about for years but haven’t started: dyeing with 100 different materials and archiving the results. My long-term goal is to have a studio where I can grow plants. It doesn’t have to be a huge garden, but I’d love to observe seasonal plants I’ve grown myself and use them in my classes.