bio
Born in Minneapolis, MN, Joon Tajadod was an artist from childhood, holding coloring books like prized possessions. From the complexities of being the first generation born in the United States on her Iranian father’s side and being bi-racial, getting lost in art was how she processed the world around her. After the age of nine and her parents separation, Joon moved across the country every few years. She lived in five states by the time she graduated high school and credits leaning on her creativity from a young age as a source of comfort.
She studied Business Administration at the University of South Florida and found herself in the corporate world soon after. She quickly realized life was too short to not pursue her dreams of being an artist. She spent 5 years teaching herself how to paint. Exploring different mediums and subjects. With relentless determination, she found herself in her work and in 2014 her career as an artist began. Since then her work has been featured at the Denver Art Museum, The Ramble Hotel, The Clayton Hotel, lux magazine and Forbes.com.
Living in Denver, Colorado, Joon often seeks time in the mountains for inspiration. Searching for wild flowers and the abundance of textures and color palettes nature provides. She attributes what she exposes herself to, nurturing her body, and who she surrounds herself with impacting her creative process.
To view her pervious work visit AshleyJoon.com
the name change…
Born as Ashley Tajadod, my name never felt like it belonged to me. Like the title didn’t match the cover. There were always two Ashleys in a room growing up in the ‘80s and ‘90s and let’s just say we never looked alike. My last name was always a topic of conversation, but it wasn’t until I was sixteen in Hot Springs, Arkansas during 9/11 that I felt I needed to hide my Iranian heritage. After a decade of enduring racist remarks about my ethnicity and wanting to start my career as an artist, I decided to not use my last name all together. To replace it with Joon, a Persian phrase used after people’s names. Only recognizable as Persian to Iranians. In 2014, my career as Ashley Joon took off. It wasn’t until my father’s cancer diagnoses in 2017 did I realize how important and what a gift it is to have my last name. And so began my identity crisis.
It took a few years before I admitted out loud that I wanted to change my first name to Joon. That Joon was the name I grew into and Ashley never felt like me. And after already successfully establishing myself as artist, it wasn’t an easy path to take on. But thinking in terms of the legacy I want to leave and what feels authentic, continuing as Ashley Joon wasn’t an option. It’s a chapter in my life I have so much gratitude for. My chapter of self discovery. In 2020 I finally had the courage to come forward as Joon. I took a few years pushing myself creatively to reflect this transition through my work. Now my paintings feel like looking in a mirror as who I am now.
Photo by Kelly Calvillo
artist statement
The act of painting is an emotional, physical and spiritual practice I hold sacred. Themes of race, identity, gender equality, faith and nature are prominent within my work. I consider my work floral portraits of women, giving them all female names, trying to capture the spirit and tenacity women must carry to exist in this world. To honor women's fight throughout history, for gender equality in Iran and reproductive rights in the United States. To celebrate femininity showing strength and grace in harmony. I’m inspired by the cultural significance flowers represent. The rich history of how flowers are revered in Persian culture. How they play a part in celebrating momentous life events during weddings, births and death in every culture. Leaning into story telling and abstraction, I’m able to tell deep and personal stories of loved ones and create rich female characters. The rhythmic nature found in my work is attributed to the music I listen to while creating. I select songs to evoke certain emotions and movement that transcends into the brush. It’s when I’m truly lost in a painting that I feel found.