Today we’d like to introduce you to Rewon Shimray.
Hi Rewon, can you start by introducing yourself? We’d love to learn more about how you got to where you are today?
Hm, the saga of my relationship to art—where should I begin? Art began as a way for me to pass time, but as I’ve grown, it’s become a way for me to process time. When I was a kid, art was the vehicle that helped me zoom through boring church services and long car rides. I filled piles of sketchbooks with my signature wide-eyed walruses and puppies, cartoonified family members and friends. As I got older and life became more complicated, so did my compositions. I began thinking about my experiences in terms of objects and symbols, and in the process, my world started blending with iconography. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this became the bedrock of my art style—blending reality with elements that revealed deeper truths beyond the surface.
The first painting I remember making was about entering sixth grade and feeling the growing pains of separating from my elementary school friend group. The bottom of the composition started with my hands looped at the thumbs, and, cascading from it, fingered forms evolving into a herd of butterflies, flying out into different directions. The composition revealed evolution from one form into another, and how what was once viewed as a unit can splinter into many different parts, each fractal complete in itself—uniquely beautiful and destined for a separate path.
Reimagining memories into new pictures and symbols made life processable. Intense feelings and charged moments became still in my paintings, and in that stillness, I was given, or really, I gave myself, the time and the tangible space to sit with my thoughts.
When I got to college, in the desire to be what I thought was “responsible” and “mature,” I shifted away from art-making to focus on a “marketable” degree. But upon graduating in the middle of a global pandemic in May 2020, I found myself right back to where I was before college: living in my parents’ house, working at a local Chinese food restaurant, and itching to paint.
The pandemic stripped away so many normalties from everyday life—community, entertainment, sense of security, a vision of hope for the future. But for everything I lacked, I sought to create—and I did, through art.
I showcased art for the first time in Rituals: An AAPI Art Showcase, put on by _OFCOLOR at Almost Real Things HQ in May 2022, exactly two years after graduating. Since then, I have exhibited work in dozens of shows and galleries in Austin, including my debut solo show in May 2023: SPLIT: Portraits of the AAPI Diaspora.
I have learned that art is worth my time, energy, and effort—not because of any capitalistic metric of success, but because the images I create heal me. And now, having shared more of my work with the world, I see that they can heal others too.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
My original concern about an art career’s ability to support a living wasn’t far off from the reality I continue to face now. Throughout adulthood, I’ve been toggling the dynamics between money, art, and time. I’ve been everywhere in the range between:
– A full-time job with less time for art but more money,
– A part-time job with more time for art but less money,
– Unemployment with endless time for art… but no money.
None of these seasons of life have been any easier than the others. I’ve learned by undergoing all three setups that there is no one right way to be an artist.
At one point, I thought to be a truly “successful” or “legitimate” artist, I had to do it full-time, so I quit my job to pursue that path. But as I began to create a business plan and relentlessly promote my work online, I quickly realized that monetizing my passion didn’t deepen my love for it. Even though developing my art career was all I focused on, I felt alienated from my paintings. It felt like I was selling my pieces for a quick profit instead of giving the care and time needed for them to find the right home. And in the surplus of potential art-making time I had so eagerly coveted, the financial insecurity was so destabilizing that I couldn’t even get into the headspace to create anything new.
Some artists have made a system that works for them and have thrived from diving fully into their art business. Perhaps I could find myself there one day, but for now, I’ve found that I need to keep my art separate from my finances for my passion to stay alive.
Refusing to quantify the value of my art and liberating my practice from conventional notions of success has allowed it to have purposes and possibilities that would otherwise be discouraged or even impermissible. I collaborate with other artists because my skills aren’t my possession or my asset; they’re a gift meant to be shared. I let myself experiment with different art styles because I’m not a brand with a set aesthetic; I’m a person who is alive and ever-changing. I show art in exhibitions, and even if none of my pieces sell, I walk away feeling successful because of long, intimate conversations with strangers about how my work resonated—moments of connection more valuable than any dollar amount.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I’m a painter specializing in portraiture and symbolism, often spending over a year on a single theme. I prefer the gradual clarity that comes with focusing on one topic—building playlists, reading books, and having conversations with friends that compound wisdom and insight over time. My work reflects this extended meditation, with each subtopic within the theme having its own microseries. Stretching a story across multiple canvases allows me to elaborate on ideas and play out the plot.
I’m most proud of my solo exhibition, SPLIT: Portraits of the AAPI Diaspora, in May 2023. It was my first time showing an entire body of work, a year after I started to paint seriously with vision and intention. The paintings explored my childhood in a white-dominant environment—from how I was treated in school to how I was taught to view my own non-European features. I also examined the paradox within being labeled as Asian by American peers but as American by my Asian family.
The process of creating these works was both cathartic and confrontational, as I faced the complexities of identity that I had long buried beneath the surface. Each brushstroke felt like an attempt to reconcile the different parts of myself—parts that have never felt fully at home in either world. The opening reception fluttered with conversations, both between friends and strangers, about their similar experiences. I walked away from the opening reception feeling not just validated, but connected—my paintings had become mirrors, reflecting stories that had once felt isolated.
As I continue to reach new thematic terrains, I’m rooted in the mission of art as not only a reflection of the self but a bridge between worlds—personal and collective, making the unseen seen. The journey of understanding who I am through my work is one I invite others to join, through conversation, reflection, and perhaps, through recontextualizing their own stories as well.
Let’s talk about our city – what do you love? What do you not love?
What I like best about Austin is its welcoming and collaborative art scene. Unlike other cities where competition can be a driving force, here, everyone uplifts each other. The community is incredibly supportive—artists are quick to share opportunities and resources. The pillars of Austin’s art community are warm and inclusive, specifically investing in creatives who are just starting out. For emerging artists, there are countless opportunities to showcase work. Austin is teeming with events, and in recent years, it’s become the norm to include visual art as a part of almost every gathering.
Something I find challenging though, is at these events, artwork is routinely treated as more of a backdrop than a focal point. The pieces that artists work so hard to create, apply to showcase, and install in the space are often displayed merely as a “cool” factor. Too often, the deeper meaning and message behind the work get lost in the hustle of creating a vibe. It’s rare to find an event that truly dives into the depth and dialogue that art can spark.
Lately, I’ve been having conversations with local artists and organizers about how we can shape programming to better spotlight the art itself. With the level of passion and camaraderie among Austin’s emerging artists, I believe we can transform this city into a true hub for culture-changing art. And by focusing on the message and intent of the work, we can cultivate an environment where art is not just an accessory, but a catalyst for meaningful conversation, communal healing, and collective action.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://rewonshimray.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/artbyrewon/
Image Credits
Main image – Credit: Jessica Joseph
Photo in studio standing with hands clasped – Credit: Ben Aqua
Photo with peekaboo pose between paintings – Credit: Darryl Demps
Photo of painting standing in room with plant in front – Credit: Yvonne Uwah
