Choi_Christine_Kitchen - Christine Choi.png
Choi_Christine_Kitchen - Christine Choi.png

Kitchen – Christine R. Choi

$600.00

In Kitchen, I layer a childhood photo taken on my family’s countertop with a present-day selfie. The kitchen was the center of our home—ordinary, shared, familiar. Overlapping these versions of myself lets me see how much of that early comfort still shapes the way I move through the world. This piece invites a pause, a moment to acknowledge the steadiness we inherit from the spaces that first held us.

4" x 6"
Photography
2025

In Kitchen, I layer a childhood photo taken on my family’s countertop with a present-day selfie. The kitchen was the center of our home—ordinary, shared, familiar. Overlapping these versions of myself lets me see how much of that early comfort still shapes the way I move through the world. This piece invites a pause, a moment to acknowledge the steadiness we inherit from the spaces that first held us.

4" x 6"
Photography
2025

Staircase – Christine R. Choi
Staircase – Christine R. Choi
$600.00
Playground – Christine R. Choi
Playground – Christine R. Choi
$600.00

Christine R. Choi – Photographer

Christine R. Choi is a photographer based in Apex, North Carolina. By day she shapes products and systems in the corporate world; by night, her creative brain steps forward, chasing moments of contrast, stillness, and emotional texture.

ARTIST STATEMENT

For Deep Rest, I pair childhood portraits—taken in familiar places like playgrounds, kitchen counters, and living rooms—with recent selfies of myself. Placing these images side by side highlights the quiet continuity of how we see ourselves, shaped by the everyday spaces that held us then and still influence us now.

The juxtapositions act as a call for pause: an invitation to slow down long enough to notice the parts of ourselves that persist beneath the noise of daily life. They’re small reminders that peace isn’t always found in stillness, but in seeing ourselves with a little more honesty and a little less urgency.

Through these pieces, I’m searching for moments where past and present meet without needing to resolve anything—just long enough to breathe.

@crchoi