When Nonlee Draws, Plants Whisper Back

Many moons ago, I lived with a professional whistler. Not a metaphor. A real human, capable of rendering full orchestral suites through his lips with more tonal control than most people have over their emotions. He was a designer by trade, a melody conjurer by nature, and my accidental morning alarm clock. Every day, I’d wake up to Strauss or Tchaikovsky being perfectly piped from the next room as he painted. Then off he’d go to his design job in Manhattan like this was a completely normal pre-commute ritual. The man was a melody machine. A one-person dopamine drip. Later, he competed in the World Whistling Championship (yes, that’s a thing, Google it) where he whistled Michael Jackson and came tenth. His art had joy in its bones. And that same unshakeable joy, that oddball, quietly euphoric magic, is what radiates from every tattoo by Nonlee.

Kim Jungyeon (Nonlee to her ever-growing global fanbase) didn’t fall into tattooing. She assembled her path like a finely inked collage: sculpture student, art teacher, near-gallery darling, and finally, full-blown skin whisperer. She spent nearly a decade teaching people how to make lines behave and colours pop before deciding that walls were too static, too silent, too sterile. Tattooing, on the other hand, offered something juicier: a living, breathing, occasionally wiggling canvas. These days, her colourwork doesn’t just turn heads, it wins trophies (NIX, Milano) and earns her a seat at the judge’s table. Chaos, it seems, has excellent taste.

Look closely and you’ll spot her usual suspects - moths, birds, plants, coffee branches. But don’t be fooled. These aren’t borrowed from some dusty botanical manual or ripped from a Pinterest board of forest fairies. They’re alive: mood pieces, micro-monologues, visual sighs with backstories you’ll never fully decode. Each element feels intentional, like it wandered in from a dream and decided to stick around. And here’s the twist. She often skips the stencil altogether, sketching directly onto skin like she’s tuning into a frequency the rest of us can’t hear. No tracing, no templates, just hand, ink, and intuition.

She’s also a master of cover-ups. Not in the ‘hide the evidence’ sense, but in the full-on tattoo alchemy sense. Old regrets, faded symbols, youthful mistakes, and breakup remnants go in and something new, luminous, and deeply personal comes out the other side. Like a chrysalis made of pigment and second chances. And like that whistling flatmate with the suspiciously perfect pitch, Nonlee’s work doesn’t just brighten your day, it flips the switch. One look and your cortisol drops. Two, and your neglected houseplants start blooming like they’ve been personally affirmed.

I. FROM BRUSH TO NEEDLE

You spent nearly a decade teaching watercolour and drawing before swapping chalk for a tattoo machine. How did that life on the other side of the studio desk shape your creative process now?

Not just teaching, but the way I used to paint still deeply influences how I design and execute tattoos today. The way I create tattoo designs isn’t so different from how I used to approach drawing. I was honestly surprised at how similar tattooing felt to coloured pencil drawing when I first picked up the machine. I think that helped me adjust more quickly. While I don’t feel the same passion for teaching as I used to, the "teacher mode" definitely kicks in when clients ask questions. When someone’s curious about the design or tattoo process, I do feel it’s part of my job to explain and help them understand.

Your alias "Nonlee" means "well-organized" in Korean, but your tattoos feel joyfully painterly and loose. Is there a tension between your tidy namesake and your wild colour work?

I believe that even in the most freeform expressions, there is still order. Being able to balance that tension well is key to creating something beautiful. Especially with tattoos, since they age with the person wearing them, maintaining a sense of order is essential to ensure the work remains beautiful over time. Originally, "Nonlee" was a playful combination of a Korean idiom and my real name, Jungyeon. But I do think the name ended up aligning well with the nature of my tattoo work.

You’ve said galleries felt too sterile and tattooing gave you a more "dynamic space" for creativity. How does working on moving skin change the way you play with light, form, and composition?

A living human body doesn’t stay in one position. A tattoo that looks still while standing can come to life when the body moves. With paper, there’s no need to think about motion. That’s why tattoos feel more like working in 3D than 2D. For example, when tattooing an area like the inner arm, where there’s frequent movement, I design with that motion in mind: how the tattoo will shift or distort when the body bends.

You’ve described tattoos as evolving with the people who wear them. When you design a piece, are you imagining that future story?

I think this is something all tattoo artists prioritize. I always hope the tattoo remains crisp and vivid, not just at first, but over time. Sometimes, clients want something very small, and in those cases, I walk them through how much detail can realistically hold on the skin. I also adjust my colour choices depending on the client’s skin tone, to ensure vibrancy and longevity.

II. MOTIFS, MEMORY & NATURE’S WHISPERS

Nature is clearly a major muse, from neighbourhood plants to beach snorkeling to bushwalking. Is there a particular plant or animal that’s your creative soulmate?

I especially love birds. They’re not only visually beautiful and diverse, but their sounds can be enchanting or full of personality. To me, birds are the perfect muse for expressing synesthesia through tattoos. Bright colour combinations remind me of cheerful chirping, while subtle light within dark shades brings out a quiet, vivid energy.

Your tattoos feature flowers, moths, coffee branches. Any personal meaning behind those recurring motifs?

Some of my tattoo motifs are simply based on plants or animals I love, and a few reflect memories from my childhood. The rifle and sparrow on my arm, for instance, are a tribute to my late grandfather. He was a Korean War veteran who had been bedridden for as long as I could remember. To me, he had always seemed physically frail. But interestingly, in a country like Korea where guns are strictly regulated, he owned a rifle. One day, while I was walking with him in the yard, he asked if I wanted him to catch a sparrow. When I said yes, he shot a bird perched on a branch in a single shot. It was the first time I saw his strength. After he passed away, I got the rifle and sparrow tattooed to remember that moment of power.

You bring your fine art background into every piece, watercolours, oil painting, even sculpture. Are there any art history icons or eras that sneak into your style?

My tattoo style is deeply influenced by Realistic-Impressionism, particularly in how I use light and colour to convey atmosphere and detail. Although he’s not from that era, seeing the work of Wayne Thiebaud made me wonder what it would be like to translate that kind of vivid colour into tattoos.

III. PRECISION, CHAOS & COLLABORATION

You’re known for bold colour and fine lines, a mix that feels both maximal and minimal. Have you ever tried stripping it back completely?

One day, I’d love to experiment with more minimalist elements. Although my current style leans heavily toward complex detail, I genuinely enjoy all types of tattoos. I feel like I’ve found my sweet spot for now, but I’m always open to trying something new. I think a style like Trash Polka could be really fun to explore.

Your colour work is always so precise. Do you plan each shade carefully, or do you trust your instincts on the fly?

To avoid getting lost in the complexity, I make a plan before I start. I think that logical approach is part of who I am. It even connects back to my name, “Nonlee,” which reads as the Korean word 논리 (logic). When using light-coloured inks, you have to be especially careful. Once light ink is in the skin, it’s open, so even a slight touch of darker ink nearby can stain it. That’s why I work from dark to light. Also, complementary colours can clash and muddy each other when overlapped, so I always insert a buffer tone between them.

You often co-create custom designs with clients. What’s the wildest idea someone’s thrown your way that made you think, “Wow, okay, how do I even draw that?”

Nowadays, larger projects aren’t strange to me, but early on I mostly did small pieces under 5 inches. So when I visited Toronto and was asked to do a nearly 10-inch crow tattoo on someone’s arm, it felt huge at the time. That piece became the start of my large-scale work and ended up being one of my most well-known tattoos.

IV. INK IN CONTEXT

South Korea’s tattoo scene has exploded in recent years. Do you feel like you’re helping shape this cultural shift?

There are so many incredibly talented artists in Korea that it’s no surprise the scene is evolving so quickly. Many of us have formal art education, and that helps with understanding and skill. I like to think I may have influenced a few artists. Botanical themes have long been part of Korean tattoo culture, but I’ve noticed more artists now using vivid colour palettes. When I attended the Vancouver Tattoo and Culture Show 2025 (May 30 to June 1) as a judge, one artist even told me, “I started tattooing because of you,” which was such a joyful moment for me.

Lately, you’ve been tackling larger projects with just as much detail. Dream scenario: unlimited time, unlimited canvas, what would your fantasy tattoo look like?

I’m drawn to the symmetry found in traditional botanical tapestries. I think it would be amazing to create a design that uses that structured layout but incorporates opposing themes, bringing balance and contrast into one composition.