From Hardship to Hope: Artist Nicole Kang Ahn Explores Asian Identity and Resilience
02/05/2026
BY BRIAN CARR
Nicole Kang Ahn paints with flashes of color. A ribbon of bold pinks. Bright yellows. Luminous blues. A figure emerging from layered textures. Standing in her studio on Peachtree Street and gazing at the works displayed on the walls, there’s a sense of nostalgia and tender memories in the subjects she paints that invite viewers in. And underneath her brushstrokes, there’s a profound story about a working artist translating grief, resilience, and hope into visual form.
We sat down with Nicole to discuss her bond with Atlanta as a Korean-American, her journey back to making art after a series of hardships, how she found a creative outlet to give voice to those who have none, and how the serendipitous encounters of city life show up in her Midtown studio. Read more.
Finding Home
Everyone has a story about what drew them to Atlanta. And Nicole Kang Ahn’s path to get here was anything but linear.
Born in California, she spent part of her childhood in Korea before her family moved around the U.S., following her father as he searched for stable work. They spent time in Washington State. Then a stay in a small town in eastern Tennessee. Then the family moved to Atlanta. And it was here that Kang found the community she was seeking.
“I remember feeling relieved that there were more Korean-Americans in Atlanta compared to other places we had been,” she said. “And then I started college at Oglethorpe University. That is where I felt like I was starting to blossom as a person. Atlanta was the first place that felt like home to me.”
But when her family pulled up stakes again to pursue another career opportunity - this time in Texas - Kang elected to stay here and put her roots down.
That sense of belonging grew stronger during her college experience, when Kang was introduced to Atlanta’s Civil Rights history.
“I had not been exposed to communities outside my bubble until I was in college,” she said. “And seeing so many thriving BIPOC artists and educators had a profound impact on me.”
Those experiences would later become a cornerstone of her practice: art as advocacy.
Loss. Silence. And Return.
Kang’s early adulthood was marked by profound loss. In the span of a single year, her boyfriend died unexpectedly, followed by her mother, who had battled leukemia. Kang was just 22. And as she explains it, in her culture, as the eldest daughter, she had to shoulder a lot of familial responsibilities. The grief was paralyzing.
“When she passed away, it just felt so purposeless, and I felt very lost,” Kang said of her mother, whom she calls her biggest supporter.
Kang stopped painting altogether for about five years.
But even during that creative silence, art remained a lifeline. She visited museums, attended shows, and stayed close to Atlanta’s creative community. Eventually, with encouragement from her husband Tim, she found her way back to the canvas. One small painting derived from a photo – depicting a mother and child – opened the gate.
“I think it was my therapy,” she said. “At this point, I don’t think I could fathom how far I’ve come as an artist from that person who was barely able to pick up a pencil.”
Art That Gives Power to the Marginalized
Today, Kang’s work is deeply personal. Portraiture sits at the heart of her practice, rendered in acrylics, colored pencil, and layered textures. Bright, primary colors soften heavy themes around experiencing grief and loss. But there is also a deeply political side to some of her works, an effort to fight back against racial discrimination and oppression.
For Kang, that purpose-driven work crystallized after the tragic 2021 Atlanta spa shootings. As a new mother, and as an Asian American living in Atlanta, she said she felt exposed, outraged, and afraid.
“It was a racially motivated attack, and I am that identity,” she said. “And then I realized there are other people who must feel this way constantly.”
When she began creating art that expressed the catharsis of those feelings, the response was immediate.
“I’ve had a lot of people reach back out and say, ‘Your art speaks to me on levels that I feel like have not been reached before,’” she said. “We’re never alone in these experiences.”
That philosophy now guides both her studio work and her professional role as Creative Communications Manager at the Asian American Advocacy Fund, where she oversees the Artivism Lab. “Artivism” combines the words “art” and “activism.”
The projects coming out of the Artivism Lab merge together storytelling, community, and social impact. One of the biggest exhibitions she has orchestrated, Threads of Justice, appeared on the Atlanta Beltline and in the Center for Civil and Human Rights.
Kang’s illustration work for AAPI themes has led her to some compelling projects, including illustrating children’s books and a coloring book project celebrating Asian Americans that earned national media acclaim, including an appearance on the Kelly Clarkson Show.
A Midtown Window
Kang’s participation as a Midtown Alliance artist-in-residence has created a bridge between private healing and public conversation as she works to grow her arts practice. In partnership with property owners, the initiative provides studio space in the heart of Midtown, placing working artists directly into the city’s daily rhythm.
Sharing her studio space across from Emory University Hospital Midtown with fellow resident artist Charity Hamidullah, Kang describes a sense of creative kinship and mutual encouragement that fuels her work. Kang said she also brings her infant son with her to the studio to keep her company while she works.
“I love the studio experience,” she said. “If it were just a studio to myself, I don’t think it would be the same.”
She recounted a story that speaks to the possibility of cities and invitations for human connection, themes central to Midtown Alliance’s mission:
One afternoon, a group of Korean tourists walked past the studio and spotted her paintings through the window. They knocked on the door, and Kang greeted them.
“They were like, ‘Are you Korean?’” Kang recalled. “They said, ‘Wow, this is so random. We’re doing a big tour through America. And we just happened to see a Korean artist painting right here in this busy city.’”
Moments of sidewalk serendipity like that affirm the power of place—of art made visible, accessible, and rooted in the human experience.
The conversation then turns to some of the works displayed on the walls of her studio. One recent painting, The Glass Child, portrays Kang's daughter, who has Rett Syndrome, a rare genetic disorder. It’s an image layered with tenderness, grief, and luminous hope. A wave of glass shards appears to envelope the girl. The undefined background puts all the focus on her. Her eyes seem to communicate a sense of both tranquility and struggle.
“I want her to always feel like she was loved through all of these different phases,” Kang said. “I’m trying to capture that beauty, that pain… but I want it to feel ethereal too.”
Looking Forward
Kang is currently building a new body of work inspired by motherhood and change, while continuing her activism-driven projects across Atlanta.
“Being Asian American here in the South is not something that most people think about much,” Kang said. “Asian communities are thriving in cities on the East and West Coast, but we're doing really well here, too. Atlanta's Asian community has unique stories and experiences to share, and I want to build that up.”
Follow Nicole on Instagram at @NicoleKangAhn