I have watched 450 Korean dramas, and I have probably cried at some point during every one. Perhaps more amazing to me is the fact that I am far from alone. Since South Korea opened itself to a global market in the late 1980s, its popular culture has taken the world by storm. Though initially drawn in by the dramas, South Korea quickly grabbed a hold of me more broadly. Please Come In is an invitation to experience this pull, rooted in my experience of how South Koreans create and respect community, communal pleasure, and a shared emotional experience - which for me stands in stark contrast to the fragmented, individual-centered tendencies at the heart of current American culture. Visit Seoul, and multilingual signs inform the visitor of social expectations. “Quiet. Residential neighborhood.” The request is sweetly delivered by a smiling cartoon-like figure. "Rent Me." reads another in front of a shop renting traditional Korean attire. These messages serve as an invitation to join in. In contrast to the rigorous nature of Korean beauty standards, the competitive work and school environment, the flawed nature of the city itself suggests that you can enjoy smaller pleasures, feel safe and welcome, without a need for perfection. These shadow boxes serve as an entry into the cities of Korea as I experience them, old and new, imperfect, alive and inviting. Each setting is a composite of two images - one reflects tradition, living history, the other, Korea's more modern, international face. Standing in each box is an acrylic figure - either individuals dressed in Hanbok or life sized statues of mascots which can be found throughout the city. The symbols have a warm vibe, and here reproduced as inexpensive collectibles, they offer the viewer a bridge into the embrace of community. In American politics, life is often presented as a zero sum game. I offer these shadow boxes as a challenge and a question. Can we find a way to cherish community and the individual simultaneously?