After getting married, my husband’s severe pollen allergy meant I could no longer freely keep the flowers I loved at home. Fresh flowers wilted quickly, too, and always came with the worry of allergies. Searching for a way around both problems led me to paper flowers. That’s how Seulpaper began six years ago — from a very personal wish to fill our home with flowers.

Most people in Korea first learn paper flowers with crepe paper, but I never quite found that material compelling. Cardstock’s firmness felt closer to the texture of real flowers, and that appealed to me far more. There was something in the material itself, too — working with paper, something everyone encounters in daily life, in Korea or anywhere else. Notebooks filled with old doodles, drawing paper a child once colored, sheet music no longer played — paper carrying traces of everyday life, and weaving a story into it, is what draws me in most.

When I make a piece, the first thing I ask is: what story will it hold? I think of the story first, choose colors to match it, and only then decide on the flowers and materials. A polished result matters to me — and just as much, so does whether the work carries a story worth telling.

Over these six years, Seulpaper has grown into a place where artwork, education, and documentation come together. As Chairperson of the International Paper Art & Design (IPAD) Association, I now lead a professional training program, alongside ritual workshops for brands and teams, custom pieces built around personal stories, and an archive of color and craft. Looking ahead, I hope to grow Seulpaper’s work beyond paper flowers — into paper art as a whole.