Have you ever sent a text message to a friend so outlandish that you knew there was no way on Earth she’d ever take you seriously? But instead of her just laughing it off like you expected her to, she replies with, “Hmm… I think you’re right,” and the next thing you know, you’re booking flights and making hotel reservations and buying tickets to a museum half a continent away?
Yeah, I hadn’t either. At least not until about a month ago.
Now here I am, sitting at my computer, not entirely convinced I actually took such an insane little trip, because it all happened so fast, it was like I blinked and it was over! However, the hundreds of photos sitting in my camera roll, all prove that I did, in fact, fly to San Francisco on little more than a wish and a whim.
So what could possibly inspire such a last-minute, whirlwind trip? You mean, other than the natural draw of the California coast and the chance to not be at work in dreary ole Wisconsin for once?
Why the RM x SFMOMA exhibit, of course!

Well, that combined with the fact that I’ve recently been suffering from a severe case of Wanderlust, and have never been to San Francisco, and saw this as a perfect opportunity to not only see an exhibit I’d been dying to see since I first heard about it, but also get out and scratch that need-to-travel itch. Isn’t multi-tasking wonderful?
While I could very easily dedicate an entire post to my non-RM-related adventures, I’m not sure there are very many people who actually want to read about them. I mean, San Francisco is an amazing city and I really did cram as much quintessential SF into my trip as I possibly could. But the entire point of the trip was to visit RM’s Between You and Me exhibit at the city’s Museum of Modern Art, so that’s what I’m choosing to focus on.
I will say, I have no desire to walk anyone through this exhibit piece by piece; in part, because I know there are plenty of people out there who mean to experience this exhibit for themselves and I don’t want to spoil this exhibit for anyone, and in part because my experience will not be the same as anyone else’s. Art has this incredible ability to speak to anyone who takes the time to listen, and the funny thing is, even if we all stopped to listen together, we’d all hear something different.
Because art speaks to us in uniquely personal ways, my experience at this exhibition is mine and mine alone. What spoke to me, moved me, made me smile, made me laugh, made me think, etc. did so because I brought to this exhibit an entire framework of existence that is uniquely me. That’s not to say that there aren’t others out there who laughed at the same silly sculptures or felt something pulling on their soul as they stood in front of Yun Hyon Keun’s paintings, I’m simply saying that my experience is merely one of many.
What I’m sharing in this post are the things that stood out to me, for no other reason that they just did. Because like RM says, “Sometimes you just like something, and you’re not really sure why.”

Nothing in this post is in any specific order, neither are they in the order in which they’re on display at the exhibit. This is more a journey through my stream of consciousness as I reminisce over the bits and pieces of an exhibit I thoroughly enjoyed.

That being said, I’ll start things off as one would when walking into the exhibit, just to give you a sense of beginning. Right away, you’re encouraged to scan a QR code that brings you to an audio tour of the exhibition, recorded by RM himself, or Namjoon, as he asked to be called while exploring the exhibit. (Something I will attempt to do as I write this though, I have to admit, it feels really strange to do so. I blame the journalist part of me, using stage names is ingrained in my brain.)
If Namjoon’s request to use his given name doesn’t give you an idea of just how personal the nature of this exhibit is, I honestly don’t know what will. Whether you listen in Korean or English is entirely up to you. I chose to listen to the English recording as I was wandering my way through the rooms, just because it was easier for my brain to process in the moment, but I did go back and listen to the Korean recording later.
I will say that walking into this first room of the exhibit (the BLUEWATER room, for those who are curious), while having Namjoon speaking directly into my ear, was honestly a lot to process all at once. I suppose most of that shock comes from the fact that I wasn’t really expecting the experience to feel so very intimate. I’m sure that’s a reflection of my own naivety, more than anything. Knowing Namjoon to be who he is, it was silly of me to expect this exhibition to be anything other than incredibly personal, and yet I did it anyway. Needless to say, walking through the exhibit with noise cancelling earbuds made the entire experience feel like Namjoon was personally walking me through the exhibit. I suppose that’s exactly why this audio guide was recorded in the first place, it just… He was… I don’t have… It… It was a lot, okay?
Once I finally caught my breath and sort of mostly pulled myself together, I found myself settling into a very easy rhythm. Wandering at a pace that allowed me to listen, read, think, and feel, I made my way through the exhibition, stopping at anything that really caught my eye. Needless to say, I stopped a lot.
Walking through the FRIENDSCAPE room, I found myself thinking how nice it is to know I’m not the only one filling my house with odd little animals. Sure, Namjoon’s collection of silly critters are priceless cultural artifacts from bygone centuries and mine are things I’ve picked up at second-hand stores, but whatever. The sentiment is the same and that makes me smile.


I’m a little jealous that Namjoon’s wooden duck collection outnumbers my own, but it’s fine. My ducks get to chill on an overflowing bookshelf, alongside tin frogs, slightly neglected houseplants, and ceramic cats, while his gets to swim through a museum as fish fly overhead. And yes, you read that right. At this exhibit, the fish fly.
The fact that a school of funny little fish hangs just above the FRIENDSCAPE “duck pond” brings me no small measure of delight. Because what do you mean there’s a little school of fish flying over a pond filled with swimming ducks? The placement of these two pieces is so hilariously ironic, it’s nothing short of brilliant and I’m still chuckling over it, days later. What can I say, it doesn’t take a lot to make my silly little heart happy.


Living in the Chicagoland area, I’ve visited my fair share of museums, art and otherwise, so I’m pretty familiar with Georgia O’Keeffe’s Sky Above Clouds IV, an absolutely massive piece that graces one of the stairwells at Chicago’s Art Institute. I’ve always liked her work, so discovering this little petunia painting just chillin’ in Namjoon’s exhibit did something funny to my brain. Maybe it was just being reminded of the breadth of an admired artist’s work that did it, or maybe it’s just that I really like purple petunias. I don’t really know. Whatever the reason, I spent a lot of time looking at this single flower, marveling at how something so small can make you feel so much.
For anyone freaking out over the fact that RM owns a Georgia O’Keefe, that’s valid because holy crap, that would be amazing! However, this piece isn’t one from RM’s personal collection. Who knows if he even owns one? I suppose I wouldn’t mind asking him some day but when would that ever actually happen? (The answer is, NEVER.) Still, I do have an ever-growing list of questions I’d love to ask someday. Things like: Do you own an O’Keeffe? Have you ever read Michael Ende’s The Neverending Story and/or been traumatized by Wolfgang Petersen’s 1984 film adaptation? (A question I’ve been dying to ask since the release of “moonchild”. IYKYK) Soju or beer? Snorlax or Pikachu? If you stood in front of Ivan Albright’s That Which I Should Have Done I Did Not Do (The Door), would you walk through or run from it? (A question I still can’t answer for myself.) Would you…
HOLY FREAKING RABBIT HOLE, BATMAN!
Back to the Petunia painting… This particular painting is one of the pieces pulled from SFMOMA’s collection, exclusively for this exhibition. Did Namjoon choose to include this piece himself? I’d like to think so, after all, isn’t that what curators do? Maybe someday someone will ask him that question and then we’ll know for sure. Until then, it’s fun to let the brain fill in the blanks in whatever creative way it wants. Don’t you think?

While we’re still on the topic of Georgia O’Keefe, I very much appreciated the collection of quotes Namjoon put together from artists that inspire him, particularly this one from one of my favorite Wisconsin natives:
“I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life, and I’ve never let it keep me from a single thing that I wanted to do.”

I’m not sure I’ve ever read a more relatable quote. Then agan, listening to Namjoon talk about the life and struggles of Park Re Hyun was equally relatable. A mother of four, who carried the weight of her family on her back, using whatever time she could manage to scrape together at the end of the day to pursue her passion? Hmmm… It’s so hard to imagine why that would hit hard and deep… Once again, the words of the artist herself struck a chord with me:
“Woman and domestic life! This is a world only those who’ve lived it can understand…”
She’s not wrong. Looking at her piece, aptly entitled “Work,” I felt her struggle to find the balance between living up to the unreasonable expectations placed on all women who take on the role of mother while simultaneously struggling to satisfy the need to be true to her authentic self. Because let’s be real. How many mothers out there have put their true selves aside in order to raise children, run households, and support another individual’s dreams? I spent 25 years trying to cram myself into a tiny box just to fit the ridiculous expectations of a man who didn’t deserve even a fraction of what I gave him, while simultaneously raising four children on my own and nearly losing every last bit of myself in the process, so much so that it took years and years and years to get even a fraction of myself back. So yeah, I feel Park Re Hyun’s struggle in every way possible and deeply admire the fact that despite everything, she was able to create not just a name for herself but a legacy.

Because apparently I was just meant to identify with all of the artists Namjoon decided to showcase in PASSION, I keenly felt the quotes of Louise Bourgeois:
“I have been to hell and back, and let me tell you, it was wonderful.”

While I can’t say my own journey to hell and back was wonderful, I can say that life on the other side absolutely is. Seeing as how that’s not something I ever thought I’d be able to say, because my hell was deep and dark and borderline deadly, I’m happy to report that it is, in fact, true.
Namjoon also chose to highlight another quote from Louise Bourgeois:
“I need to make things. The physical interaction with the materials has a curative effect.”
And once again, I found myself agreeing with her on a very personal level. Despite spending the majority of my life as a creative soul, my personal need to create was something I lost while clawing my way through that deep, dark hell. All energy during that period of my life went into simply surviving. Creativity in all its forms vanished and even after I managed to pull myself out of that darkness, the creative side of myself refused to return. I spent years convinced that part of myself was gone for good and only within the past year have I really started to see it return. Needless to say, I’m extremely happy to have it back!
Walking through the HOME collection of Namjoon’s exhibit brought me so much joy. A quick glimpse at my Pinterest boards will tell you I have a deep affinity for pots, pitchers, cups, kettles, and any other form of pottery that strikes my fancy. There’s something about the lines of a well-sculpted pot that makes my brain so happy. Needless to say, seeing that this love is shared by others, Namjoon included, made me smile. I particularly love that his affinity for small creatures is carried over into his collection of pottery and knick-knacks. The little frog guy on this pot is one of my absolute favorites! He just looks like he’s having so much fun, living his best little froggy life.

When you walk into the PEOPLE room and stop to read the introduction, Namjoon admits that he doesn’t have any photographs of himself in his home which, I totally get. For him, it has more to do with living a life in the public eye whereas for me, it has everything to do with my life-long struggles with self-esteem. (Something I’ve gotten a lot better with over the years, but I still can’t get myself to put up photos of myself. It just creeps me out and I don’t like it.)

For one such as Namjoon, it’s easy to understand why having a place to escape the scrutiny of the world would be essential. But walking in the PHOTOBUDDHA room, past a TV watching Buddha whose camera is always watching you does cause one to wonder a few things; especially when one stops to consider where this TV Buddha resides when it’s not entertaining the masses at an exhibit in San Francisco. Maybe I’m just thinking too much here, but I do have quite a few more questions I’d like to ask him about this one piece in particular.
One of my favorite things about seeing paintings in person is being close enough to see all the little details you miss in a photograph: the brush strokes, the layers of paint, the texture of it all. Seeing the texture in Oh Chi Gyun’s Untitled (Walking) had all the little happy chemicals in my brain firing at once! I swear, I could have stood in that room, absorbing every little detail of this one painting for a very, very, very long time. It’s just soooo good!


As an occasional quilter, sometimes felt doll maker, and random cross-stitcher, anytime I come across a piece of textile art, my little sewist heart does a jaunty jig. Needless to say, Lee Shin Ja’s Image of City made me very, very happy. I’m gonna say it’s that whole texture thing coming back into play here. There’s just something about the way textile art looks and feels – the heft of a finally pieced together quilt top, all raw edges and exposed seams or the back of a cross-stitch piece, the chaotic threads revealing a much different story than the neatly placed stitches one sees on the other side – that is so freaking satisfying. So yeah, finding bits of textile art throughout this exhibit made my heart swell with joy.
Another one of my favorite things about walking through an art museum is how often you inadvertently stumble across a piece of yourself. I’ve found bits and pieces of myself in all sorts of different sculptures and paintings over the years, but never in a million years would I have imagined I would find a piece of art so literally me that it would make me laugh out loud. And then I found Antony Gormley’s Meme in Namjoon’s I DON’T KNOW BUT I LIKE IT collection and I just lost it.

Anyone who practices yoga on a fairly regular basis knows, stretching in random ways and places is basically second nature. You don’t really even think about what you’re doing, you just get the urge to stretch and the next thing you know, you’ve got a room full of people looking at you funny because you’re tree posing while sipping your strawberry matcha. Because I try to be cognizant of where I am and who I’m around, I try to keep my weird stretching confined to my house; which is why only my children could really appreciate my reaction when I sent them a photo of this sculpture with a message that simply said, “It’s me!” To which they all responded with a unanimous laugh-til-you-cry emoji because this silly little sculpture is, in fact, me, in my hallway, legs halfway up the wall, just chillin’ because I’ve spent 8 hours confined to a desk and if I don’t un-shrimp myself soon, I may actually turn into Quasimodo. Is this weird? Maybe, but not any more weird than Namjoon doing handstands in the green room before a concert. (Or that’s what I’m telling myself anyway. Honestly, does it matter if it’s weird or not? I’m nothing if not fully committed to living my best weirdo life from now until the rest of forever.)

As much a reader as I am a writer (and yes, that is actually my day job), I absolutely fell in love with Namjoon’s collection of book boxes. Learning that each box was made for one specific book absolutely delighted my little library-loving heart. Of course, that knowledge immediately sent my brain a’wanderin’. What books did these boxes hold? Were they great teachings of Confucius? A collection of recipes from the palace’s head chef? A secret diary? A collection of household bills? I mean, the possibilities are endless! I may have been doing just a little side-eyeing when Namjoon admitted that he used at least one of these boxes as a display stand for an entirely different piece of art. Because seriously, my dude? Only you would be able to use priceless antiques, that are in and of themselves beautiful works of art, to display other priceless pieces of art that, I have no doubt, are equally beautiful and priceless. Oh, to be so lucky!
Meandering through the last room of Namjoon’s exhibit, aptly entitled UMBER, I soon found myself standing before a painting that pulled so hard on my soul, it felt as if an invisible hand had wrapped itself around my heart and tugged. If I could have found a way to crawl into Yun Hyong Keun’s Umber-Blue, I absolutely would have; just to see where this path of light might lead. I don’t know why this particular piece pulled on me so hard, it just did. Even now, reminiscing over the experience from nearly 2,000 miles away, I can still feel that tug on my soul. Like there’s a part of me, somewhere in that combination of dark and light, that wants to be found, or possibly remembered, and I think I could spend a very long time standing in front of this piece, looking for whatever it is my soul clearly recognizes as its own.


Sitting in the dark, with this one solitary painting in front of you, while listening to Namjoon’s final recording was honestly the most perfect way to end this experience. With so much to process, being invited to just sit and put yourself back together before walking back out into the big wide world, was something I very much appreciated. Sometimes being allowed to just sit and breathe is exactly what we need. Especially when you’ve just had your heart and soul served to you through the brushstrokes of an artist who, up until a few minutes ago, you didn’t even know existed.
Did I sit in this darkness for a good long while? Yes, yes I did. And it still felt like I wasn’t quite prepared to leave, when I finally convinced myself the time had come for me to move on.
If you have a chance to visit the RM x SFMOMA exhibit, you should definitely go. The thought and care Namjoon put into this exhibition is overwhelmingly obvious. From the pieces of his life he chose to share, to the hand-written notes scattered throughout the exhibit, to the audio guide he recorded in both English and Korean, the entire exhibit is a testament to how much this collection means to him and to an extent, a testament to just how much he loves ARMY. I can’t think of any other celebrity who would be so willing to give fans such an intimate look at the man behind the fame.
Perhaps that’s really what this entire exhibition is about. Maybe it’s one man’s attempt to connect with a world he’s both a part of and a stranger to. Maybe it’s just as much a reminder to him as it is to us that at the end of the day, he’s just as human as the rest of us. Perhaps this is a reminder to us all that despite our differences, there are still things that bring us together, that make us uniquely human, and that are worth celebrating.
Whatever the motivation, this exhibition was absolutely worth the whirlwind cross-country trip I took on a whim and I just want to say thank you to RM for sharing something so precious with us. Once again sir, you have played a significant role in the healing of my very broken soul and given me memories that I’ll carry with me for a lifetime. 정말 감사합니다!


































































