Much Ado About Nothing

Up on stage, under the glowing spotlight, and in front of the glowering judge, I felt as if nothing could get in my way. As would soon be evident, I was absolutely right.

The Women At Tumkur Jail

Blood. Drop. By. Drop.  Staining her precious white dress. The Two Fridas. A painting for some. Truth for us.

Stories

It was on my aunt’s lap that I fell in love with the drum-beating gadhanevaalas — nomadic storytellers who would frequent her village, singing praises of swordsmen from the Himalayas and fortresses in the skies.

Movement

For longer than I can remember, I’ve been on the move.

Waves

As “Concierto de Aranjuez” plays from a pair of newly modified speakers in the basement, my fingers intuitively flick as sparkling guitar strings and silky oboe reeds sing, their sound waves varying in amplitudes of compressions and rarefactions along diverse wavelengths, vibrating in the air and straight into my ears.

Superpowers

When I was a little girl, I imagined I had superpowers. Deadly lasers would shoot from my eyes pulverizing the monsters hiding under my bed. Mom would wonder where I had magically disappeared to after I turned invisible as she forced me to eat that plate of broccoli. It was the wish I made on every birthday candle and upon every bright star.

Silent Assassin

I am the Silent Assassin. Well, that’s the nickname my soccer coach gave me, but it’s pretty fitting. On the soccer field, I weave through tight spaces, thread passes, and stuff my opponents without saying a word. That’s an exaggeration… I shout the occasional “Man on!” or “Turn!” but I’m definitely one of my team’s quieter players.

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

I was twelve years old and obsessed with words like phantasmagoria when I tumbled into the digital pages of The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. It’s an archive of homegrown neologisms for the emotions and experiences we don’t have words for, yet. Since then, I’ve added entries of my own.

My Idea Notebook

My drawer has a single inhabitant, my idea notebook. A physical extension of my mind, each page frames the different parts of me. This essay embodies Ethan Samuel Lin. This essay is me.

Transition / Dreamcatcher

I grew up in transition. The transition between the Guangzhou of fourteen years ago—buying breakfast on the side of the street and walking past organized beggars—and now: 40-story skyscrapers and luxury malls that dominate the downtown skyline.

Water Bottle Excavation

‘Yǐn shuǐ sī yuán’–today’s nugget from my gratitude jar. The Chinese proverb echoes in my mind as I head out to work and press play on Revisionist History Season 3 Episode 6.