The Universal Asian writer, Steph, sits down with her co-producer Chris and photographer Vanessa to reflect on the ESEA photoshoot that they worked on in May 2021, which was created in response to the escalation in racially motivated incidents against the ESEA community in the U.K. Over 20 British East and Southeast Asians collaborated to produce the non-profit photoshoot, titled: "Take Your Place: A Celebration of BESEA Identity." The purpose of this shoot was to empower our community by humanising a group of people who are typically misrepresented or under-represented in mainstream media, and to encourage donations towards the "Stop ESEA Hate" campaign championed by Gemma Chan, Henry Golding, and Benedict Wong. The shoot was also a celebration of the traits, passions and differences that affirmed to each of us that the complexities and fractures of BESEA identity is something to be proud of, not a wedge to further divide and alienate. To read the stories of all the participants of the photoshoot, please head to @AsiansinBritain. Credits and a massive "THANK YOU" goes to: @chrispoonmd — Producer @stephfungal — Producer @vng2_ — Photographer @jordancoxtv — Assistant Photographer @nanayumua — Makeup Artist @lecreaturedibeatrice — Makeup Artist @asaleem92 — Stylist @rayroberts — Videographer

The Danish-Korean band Meejah has released a shamanistic noise ballad about the Korean Queen Min. Danish-Korean band, Meejah, has released their first single: “Queen Min, Rise (Fire ☲)" from their debut album Queen of Spring (released on 18 June 2021)—a concept album cycle written over eight trigrams in Korean and Taoist philosophy. Queen Min was a Korean empress, who was assasinated in 1895 in the royal palace in Seoul. Composer and front person, Mai Young Øvlisen, who is a Korean adoptee, uses her artistic work to reconnect to her Korean female lineage—like a shamanistic ritual—and interpret her transnational identity, growing up in Scandinavia, and to heal the separation through singing and taking on the influence of Korean traditional music and pansori singing. “When you grow up in the West you don’t learn much if anything about Asian history. So you have to ‘invent’ it yourself. Queen Min’s story opened the heritage of my ancestors. So, I can tell it to others and contribute to the understanding that Eastern and Western history are interconnected. Like our life story as one of the 200,000 Korean adoptees is an evidence of.” The song represents the element of fire in the band’s album cycle, and is an anthem to all phoenix souls who rise after injustice. About Meejah Meejah is Daniel Nayberg, Andreas Isbrandt Løvenskjold, and Mai Young Øvlisen. The Danish-Korean experimental/alternative noise band, Meejah, has created a cyclical album Queen of Spring (released on 18 June 2021) around the eight trigrams in Korean philosophy and Taoism: Fire ☲ Thunder ☳ Mountain ☶ Lake ☱ Water ☵ Earth ☷ Wind ☴ Heaven ☰ The album was recorded in BlipBlop Studio in Roskilde, Denmark, and mastered by Magnus Lingberg from Cult of Luna in Stockholm. The band did the opening gig for the Korean band Jambinai the last time they played in Copenhagen. They also played at Joy Ruckus Club—a global virtual festival for Asian artists in the West, who fights for more Asian representation. Influences: Björk "Army of Me," Sightless Pit, Chelsea Wolfe, Tool, Radiohead, Sigur Ros, experimental hip hop, industrial, Korean pansori singing, noise. Youtube link (song link): You can find more about Meejah available on Spotify and connect with them on Instagram. Also, Korean Indie just wrote this article about "Queen Min, Rise." Cover photo: Frej Rosenstjerne

It was an empty, rainy morning. The late summer weather had produced a thin, bland sky that spread above the flat, Midwestern suburb. The dial on the television set was hard to turn, but Kimberly managed to flip it, haltingly, round and round. “Kimberly!” her mother yelled from the kitchen. “What? There’s nothing good on, Mom,” replied the young girl. “You’re going to break it! Turn it off then.” Kimberly shoved the skinny, silver knob back into its socket. A flash of an image from I Dream of Jeannie dissolved with a click. Kimberly watched the little, white dot in the middle of the gray screen fade to nothing. She plopped herself onto the tight backed, bare legged sofa. Her feet dangled above the stone patterned floor. She began to tap the tops of her Mary Janes against each other. Click, click, click, click. Kimberly’s mother walked by with big rollers in her hair. “You’re scuffing your shoes. Now stop it!” Kimberly stopped and slumped back into the stiff, olive couch. “I’m bored,” she sighed to herself as she lay alone in the recess of the room. Her eyes drifted to the dark brown paneling that surrounded her. She hated the den, because of that dark wood paneling. It felt like a dungeon. As the scattered showers outside subsided, a subtle sun beam made its way through the netted, burnt-orange curtains. Patterned shadows fell upon Kimberly’s face and moved across her large, almond-shaped eyes. She brushed her shaggy, black bangs away from her forehead and stared at the bookshelf lined with a set of encyclopedias, her favorite Laura Ingalls Wilder books and a number of unopened Barbie coloring books. Kimberly reached over and pulled a leather album out from the shelf. She opened the heavy cover page and stared at the familiar, glossy photographs that captured moments of her parents during their courtship days. Everything looked marvelous in this story book to Kimberly. The album pages were filled with perfect poses at Hearst Castle and sunset shots near the Golden Gate Bridge. There were also plenty of crystal clear pictures of banquet dinner and dance events, dated from back in the '60s, back on the West Coast where her parents met, back in the shining, city by the bay. Young Kimberly was captivated by the aura of these astute young adults pictured in their American born prime. Friends laughed at the camera wearing skinny ties, fashionable suit dresses and bouffant hairstyles. The photos came alive through the warm monochrome tones. Handsome couples danced, laughed, smiled, and sang. Her parents and their friends, with their dark hair and flair for style, reminded her of Rob and Laura on the Dick Van Dyke Show. Kimberly thought her parents looked especially like movie stars. Her mother was prom queen at Bay Area High School after all. “Kimberly! Kimberly!” her mother was yelling. “You need a haircut. Come on. Let’s go.” Kimberly closed the book and got up to go. “And don’t forget your new glasses!” added Kimberly’s mother. The cold, open room was buzzing with dozens of trainees cutting hair. Her mother walked swiftly. Her neatly tailored, bold patterned jumpsuit with wide, flared pant legs swooshed back and forth with her tall, long strides. Kimberly rushed to keep up but was distracted by a woman hovering over an electric green chair, sharpening her scissors with a certain fierceness on her face. “Go on!” directed her mother. Kimberly was startled but took a step forward. A black cape suddenly swirled around her and was fastened firmly around her neck. “Off with the full head of hair we go!” exclaimed the lady with almost taunting delight. “I hear you want the Dorothy Hamill bob,” she quickly added with a wide, wry smile. Kimberly looked up at the woman with big, feathered hair and scissors in her hands. She noticed a stain of red lipstick on the trainee’s front teeth. “I guess so,” stammered Kimberly. She looked around for reassurance, but her mother had already left. The lady introduced herself as one of the student trainees. Her name was Sheila. Sheila wrapped two hands around Kimberly’s head. Her cold acrylic nails tapped on Kimberly’s forehead. “Oriental hair is supposed to be coarser,” she said, staring at Kimberly in the mirror. Sheila reached for a swath of Kimberly’s long, black hair and rolled it between her thumb and index finger. The hairdresser’s brow furrowed and Kimberly felt a sting of embarrassment. Sheila began snipping as severed, silken locks fell to the floor. “Do you like ice skating like Dorothy Hamill?” asked Sheila. “I take skating lessons at the Shorefield Sports Complex,” mumbled Kimberly. “Oh uoh, fancy!” Sheila pursed her lips and continued trimming all around. She eyed Kimberly’s reflection in the mirror. She pulled Kimberly’s hair up and snipped some more. “Did you know that Dorothy Hamill’s famous hairstyle was created by a Japanese? His name is somethin’ like Yuke-Yusookie?” Kimberly picked at a bit of clipped hair that had fallen near her eye. Sheila took a towel and brushed away the stray pieces. “So is your family Japanese?” continued Sheila. Kimberly didn’t know what that meant, so she stayed quiet. “Are ya Chinese?” asked Sheila studying Kimberly’s face. Kimberly looked down and focused on the loose hair that lay on the lap of her smock. Sheila continued clipping. “Okay, so what kind of Oriental are yous?” pressed Sheila with impatience in her voice. Kimberly looked up and felt Sheila’s glare. Kimberly could feel her face turning warm and quickly looked away, trying to escape. She wanted to say, “I don’t know what that is,” but she said nothing. “Okay, we’re done!” quipped Sheila as she removed the bib. She handed Kimberly a mirror. “What do ya think?” Kimberly angled her head from side to side to check out the new haircut. Her hair had grown long and she had sometimes worn a barrette that swept her overgrown bangs off to the side. Now she had shockingly short hair and very short bangs. Her new hairdo looked like the shape of a little round bowl. It even appeared a little lopsided. “Well…” said Sheila, waiting for an answer. Kimberly opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out for the moment. “C’mon, nothin’?” “It’s good,” Kimberly finally mustered, her voice faint and dry. “Now you have a proper hairstyle! It perfectly suits you, you know,” announced Sheila. “It’s adorable!” added Kimberly’s mother who had suddenly reappeared. “Don’t forget your glasses, Kimberly!” she scolded. Kimberly got up, took her glasses from the counter and slid them on. She was still getting used to them. The rims were 24-carat gold-plated and rectangular-shaped. Her mother had said she looked smart with them on, like Benjamin Franklin. Kimberly thought she looked like Jan Brady with her glasses, when she used to have long hair that is. Kimberly’s mother tipped Sheila a dollar and thanked her for her work. Kimberly and her mother began to make their way towards the door. “Sayonora!” yelled Sheila after them. Suddenly, Kimberly’s mother turned around and unexpectedly screamed with a sarcastic sneer, “We’re not Burmese!” Kimberly immediately noticed the startled and confused expression on Sheila’s face. She turned away quickly and scurried after her mother, her new, little wedge cut flying with the movement. A smug, little smile formed on Kimberly’s face. The radio was already blaring Manfred Mann’s Earth Band when Kimberly opened the car door of their classic 1968 Mercedes. The sweet energy of music was already pulsing, drawing her in as she climbed into the back seat. She shut the door and her mother took off. The car was full with song. Kimberly breathed in the lush smell of the red, leather seats. She cranked the handle to unroll the window and the late summer’s wind whipped up her hair as the fast rolling words engulfed her. The words were often puzzling but her thoughts felt loose like liquid. The song was rising to a crescendo as the car was ascending her favorite big hill, up and up towards the billowing clouds and gold setting sun. Kimberly stood up and a gush of excitement moved through her body. She imagined their car flying off into the sky, just like Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang. Just as they reached the top, a propeller plane zoomed close overhead. “Whoa, that was close!” shouted Kimberly over the chorus roar. When they eventually settled at the bottom of the hill at a stoplight, Kimberly exclaimed, “This car is like magic!” “This car,” explained her mother, “was a wedding gift from your great-grandfather in Arizona.” “You mean Great-Grandpa Tang? The one that has Angus steak cook-outs at the ranch?” “Yes, that’s your father’s grandfather.” “I remember he always eats Wheaties for breakfast and calls me 'baby,’” laughed Kimberly. Kimberly’s mother changed the station and another song began to play. It was Terry Jacks singing “Seasons in the Sun.” “Mom—” Kimberly stepped up onto the hump in the middle of the car’s floor so she could see better. “Mom…what does ‘Oriental’ mean?” she asked. The light turned green and Kimberly’s mother stepped on the accelerator. Kimberly fell back onto the seat as the music grew louder and drowned out her thoughts. Kimberly sat up and perched herself on the edge of her seat. Her small face appeared low in the backseat window. She pressed her face against the glass and peered out at the passing green trees, the A&P grocery store and the Protestant church they attended. When Meadowbrook Elementary came into view, Kimberly suddenly felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. She recalled her mother saying school would be starting again in two weeks. Then Kimberly saw their white, colonial, two-story home. The lawn and hedges were freshly cut and perfectly manicured. They slowed down as if they were going to enter the driveway. But then they whizzed right by it. “Let’s go for a ride,” said her mother. Kimberly leaned back, low in her seat and gazed out through the front windshield. She was savoring the drive and song, not wanting to let go of it all. Her father’s college fraternity charm, dangling on a chain that hung on the rear view mirror, caught her eye. It swung back and forth and to and fro to the musical voices that cried out from inside the car. Kimberly had wanted to tell her mother about what happened that day. But it was already washing away, and they were all untethered shadows anyway. Instead her head was filled with the wistful melody that echoed through the empty miles of bedroom suburbia that flashed outside her car window. Like the rhythm of her breath, Kimberly could feel the melodic sweet notes echo inside of her. The addictive, broken music played on. She wished they could keep driving on forever. But the chorus kept returning as their car had been curving into a huge, wide circle. And the powers around her felt heavy and beyond her control. Her mother pulled the car up the driveway and into the garage. Their joy ride had ended. Kimberly pushed the heavy door of the Mercedes open. Her stomach felt strangely hollow and queasy. Frozen meatloaf TV dinners sat defrosting on the countertop in their avocado colored kitchen. Kimberly’s dolls, with curled hair and vapid eyes and frozen smiles, sat on the shag carpet waiting to engage in Kimberly’s make believe world. Kimberly knew she was lucky to have beautiful things. Like real gold glasses and a new haircut. Her mother would often remind Kimberly how lucky she was. Kimberly went up the stairs to her bedroom and sat on her bed. Her pale pink bedspread was laced with pretty, white, popcorn ball patterns. The quiet purr of central air cooled her white, lacquered furniture. Kimberly sat still and listened. But she was an empty face. She was unmoved. Somewhere. And there in her Dreamhouse. Samantha Der is an interethnic #hyphenatedAsian. She is a fourth-generation Chinese American and third-generation Filipina American. She graduated from the University of Southern California’s School of Cinema Arts; she wrote for Yolk magazine and later for a number of blogs she created. She has covered topics in banking and senior care. She also writes about identity, family and the dynamics of American microcultures. Samantha Der is now a regular contributor for The Universal Asian. To learn more about her, check out her Contributor’s Page here.

Wild Entertainment Group (WILD) is prominently known as a hybrid management, media production, and marketing company running in South Korea. CEO Leonard Lim founded the company to help his Southeast Asian (SEA) creators find a means to dip their feet in the South Korean entertainment market. Hence, Leonard has been putting in all his effort since August 2020, building WILD into the hub for international talents. WILD has showcased massive growth for the team in numbers and quality, as a result. Having been founded less than a year ago, WILD currently operates with 50+ creators located throughout the world from the USA all the way to Singapore. Not only does WILD boast a network of partnerships and collaborations, but the team promotes to its audience in a healthy and engaging fashion in support of everyone involved. WILD’s talent roster spreads from content creators on social media apps, singer/songwriters, video editors, and much more. Some of their earliest signed talents are content creator Sabrina, from Malaysia; influencer and entrepreneur Richard Juan from the Philippines; and singer/songwriter Candace Sosa from the U.S. Their more recent talents include content creator Kieun from Korea; creator Nalu from Latin America; and influencer Erna from Indonesia. With their team, WILD launched their positively growing YouTube channel three months ago, gathering 34.6K subscribers and impressive engagement. In more recent spotlight, Leonard Lim and Melodi Flack—two of their mental health advocates—have collaborated with Psych2Go, the leading channel for raising awareness on sensitive topics. In each of their live YouTube streams, both the talents dive deep into what they face as humans and how their life revolves around in the safe space they are given. Continuing on the steady journey, WILD and Leonard strive towards developing a culture crossover working with creators across all niches and identities.

Lava Buckley is an award-winning filmmaker based in New Mexico. She is driven to create films for her community that encourage overcoming challenges and identity journeys. Currently, Lava is creating a documentary about honoring traditional clothing and writing a dramedy about an Asian American daughter living with her immigrant mother. When not creating films, Lava loves spending time off the grid in a camper van and taking photos. Here are a few short films that Lava has created: "The 3 Day Nun": "This short documentary is from my point of view during my brief novice nun experience in Ubon Ratchathani with my family. "The 3 Day Nun" was created mainly by myself (DP, writer, director, narrator, and editor) and the support of the temple community. It’s a personal piece about reconnecting to my culture and spirituality as a first-generation Thai American." "Darkside" music video for John Courage: The music video was created in six states by the New Mexico duo John K.D. Graham and Lava Buckley while trekking across the Southwest in their RoadTrek camper van. "Darkside" was created with over 4,000 still photographs to animate the love story that unfolds during the song. "Your Cow is Dead": This was part of a stop motion series funded by the City of Albuquerque. Based on a true story that happened to me a few years ago.

Expected publication date: August 17, 2021 (delayed from August 3) Nancy and her friends are shocked when their ex-friend and star student, Jamie, is found dead. Now, a mysterious person called The Proctor is hiding behind social media and exposing their secrets one by one. The friends have their scholarships and social lives at stake if their darkest secrets are revealed. Nancy races to identify The Proctor and hopefully solve who killed Jamie. A bit like "Gossip Girl" and "Pretty Little Liars," "How We Fall Apart" was a great debut from Katie Zhao. It hooked me from page one, and I kept hoping for more free time so I could read faster. I didn’t predict the end at all. Even though it did seem a bit unrealistic at times, it gave me the drama and suspense I was hoping for. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I knew the book would give me representation and some dark academia. It succeeded without being overwhelming or stereotypical. I was hoping for a bit more character development, but I did like how there wasn’t a typical fairy tale ending. Nancy wasn’t a perfect human and she and her friends did do something pretty serious that is now coming back to haunt them. While she did her best to keep her secrets hidden, I do think Nancy gained some self-awareness about her actions and took a step forward. The characters all had their own flaws, and seeing that those flaws didn’t just go away at the end felt authentic. I’m not sure if a trigger warning is necessary for this book, but readers should be aware that death is a prominent theme. Overall, I really enjoyed this book and look forward to reading more by Katie Zhao!

The Korean American Adoptee Adoptive Family Network (KAAN) is hosting their annual conference virtually this year from June 20-26, 2021. Though we are not able to gather in-person this year, it is our hope that attendees will still be able to connect and be supported during the conference. All are welcome, including adoptees, birth families, family members of adoptees (adoptive parents, spouses/partners, siblings and children of adoptees), service providers, and Asian Americans. Adoptee-only sessions and general audience sessions are available. Programming is available for ages 17 and older, although a limited number of activities are appropriate for youth with adult participation. There will be live sessions, panels over Zoom, documentaries and pre-recorded videos on your own time, opportunities to engage with fellow attendees via our conference website, fun games and giveaways, and more. As a registered attendee, individuals will be able to log in to the conference site, view the schedule and materials, engage with other attendees, get notifications, and more. Sharing registration accounts is discouraged; one registration/ticket per person is requested. All conference programming will have closed captioning, transcripts, and/or American Sign Language (ASL) interpretation. The KAAN 2021 Virtual Conference is free of charge, with a suggested donation of 25 USD per person; however, any amount is greatly appreciated. You can view the full schedule of events and register on the website. Click here for our conference announcement in ASL.

Pride It’s our month to stand You should be proud Gather hand and hand And shout it out loud I love who I am Because I am me I don’t give a damn If you disagree Pride 2 Gender and sexuality Neither matter to me If you are kind, that’s a lot Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not You’re beautiful all around Don’t let mean words get you down Be proud of who you are Because to me, you’re a shining star Love Everyone deserves love, even you Spread it to everyone and be true We all live our own lives It can be hard to think of others sometimes Don’t let that drain your cup We could all use a little pick me up Let love flow left and right You just might make someone’s whole night Lauren is a regular contributor for The Universal Asian. To learn more about her, check out her Contributor’s Page here.

What do we tell our daughters? The myth told to many adoptive parents of Korean girls is that their mothers were prostitutes. I was told, and reminded that the cost of my Korean identity would have been a life of prostitution. The “Prima nature” fear also prevailed when I was young—the idea that the life of an illegitimate child would lead to the life of a wayward girl. Though this charitable mission of international adoption was to bring seeds from the East, the accompanying myth was that we were bad seeds. Could we be saved? As Asian American women, this burden of prostitution screens all of us with a decorative layer of Western imperialism. We have become the cost of doing business, the currency of global Asian commerce. We have paid the price of a patriarchal complicity. How little value is the life of a girl, a woman, the progenitor of our cultures and our species? As Asian American mothers all too wary of the world, what must we tell our daughters? You are not a territory, an object, a cup of tea, a butterfly, a blossom, or a fortune cookie. You are made from the stuff of the universe. And, in all of the universe, you are a beautifully unique collection of organisms. Your beauty comes from your strength and the perseverance of the women who have come before you. Know your strength. You are human and can therefore be hurt. Know your allies, keep them close. Beware of the dragons, you will know them by their fear and their hunger for gold. Please contact A.D. Herzel for prints & Licensing. © 2021 All text and images by A.D. Herzel

Gwendolyn and Estella are close-knit sisters of an influential Chinese-Indonesian family. While their family has done some questionable things to gain its power and wealth, the sisters have always had each other to rely on. Gwendolyn’s world comes crashing down when Estella uses poison to murder their entire family. Gwendolyn is the sole survivor and retraces her memories to try and solve exactly when her beloved sister decided to commit such a heinous act. "The Majesties" was marketed as a thriller, but I found it to be more of a slow-burn mystery with similarities to "Crazy Rich Asians." Page one immediately hooked me by throwing me right into the murder, but the plot began to slow down considerably once Gwendolyn began revisiting her memories. The mystery remained, but the pace was definitely not as thrilling as I had anticipated. Tsao is a really talented writer, and I loved moving back and forth in the timeline to learn more about the sisters and Estella’s motivations. At times, the timeline switches could be confusing. While this could have been a strong tactic to aid to the suspense, I found it actually slowed down the pace. There were a few sections, including the ending, that I had to read twice to ensure I understood everything. Overall, this is a beautifully written novel that offers some amount of representation. The characters were a bit unrelatable due to their positions in high society, but I haven’t found many mysteries/thrillers featuring Asian characters, so this is still a viable option. I think I would have enjoyed it more had I known it would be a slow-burn mystery instead of a heart-racing thriller that I anticipated.

Sneezy Beautiful flowers in full bloom Even sitting in my room I can’t escape the pollen’s doom This puts me in an unwanted gloom I love the sunny season But I just can’t stop sneezing The sun feels oh so pleasing But medication’s what I’m needing Finals Studying hard and long hours This semester is making me sour I need to at least at least a C But I’d really like a B After all this work I hope I do succeed Break Semester is coming to an end Need to say good bye to all my friends Have to wait 4 more months until I can see them again School is really hard But they’ve helped me get this far I can’t wait for Summer nights With good friends and water fights Lauren is a regular contributor for The Universal Asian. To learn more about her, check out her Contributor’s Page here.

Kyunghee Kim is a Korean-American poet, storyteller, and writer. She is devoted to sharing words of healing and that of the Korean diaspora. Her poetry stems from lived experiences as an immigrant and human being; and it is her desire to make others feel seen and heard.  She is driven by how grief and hope show up in our lives, and how to be honest with who we are in order to embrace ourselves and each other. Although an introvert, she is not quiet when writing about hard things in life. Kyunghee believes that stories change lives. During the day, she is a public school literacy expert. Kyunghee is currently seeking a literary agent for her poetry books. She resides in Ann Arbor, Michigan with her husband. Outside of reading and writing, her muses include yoga, spending time in nature, and FaceTiming with her nephew.

Co-curators: Anthony Shu, Diann Leo-Omine, and Shirley Huey Designers: Jeffery Liu and Haylie Chan Lunchbox Moments is a charity zine featuring work by Asian American Pacific Islander artists and writers that explores our relationships with food and cultural identity. The zine will feature art and writing from 25 contributors. Print copies available for pre-order in early May; digital copies to be sold online once the print run sells through. Proceeds to benefit San Francisco’s Chinatown Community Development Center. For more information—and to be the first to find out when pre-orders open—follow them on Facebook and Instagram and visit their website.

Stress I’m feeling so stressed I just want to be blessed I have too much weighing down on my chest I’m feeling overwhelmed, just want to be the best All of this pressure has been my biggest pest Help me out I’m getting so depressed I have a million tasks plus five more tests Bloom You’re sour then sweet  Everyone one you meet When I see you in the street My heart skips a beat What can I do To get you close to me Why don’t we See what could be Be Yourself Take a second Take a break Do what’s real Not what’s fake Do what you love Not what you hate Always be yourself There’s no time to wait Lauren is a regular contributor for The Universal Asian. To learn more about her, check out her Contributor’s Page here.

I have always sought refuge in stories and mythology. Every culture makes and looks to its own mythologies for guidance, sense, and purpose. The American cultural experience homogenized by a White Western Art aesthetic has represented a counterpoint to my experience as an Asian American woman. Am I to accept its rules, digest its parameters, or do I ask for more? As a creator, I have always believed in creating my own world, my own rules, my own vision, and mythologies. Redefining the culture, I was planted in and re-assessing the one I was born out of I have chosen my own dreams. "Madame Butterfly," the opera by Puccini, tells the story of a Japanese woman who falls in love with an American. She turns her back on her culture and family, marries him, has his child, and then is ultimately abandoned by him. He returns to her country with his new white wife. Madame Butterfly commits suicide and her child, a son is taken to be raised in America. I have a love hate relationship with this story and the libretto. The parallels to my history as a Korean-American adoptee are obvious and the empathy I feel for Butterfly is heartbreaking. My life is interwoven in the story of Western imperialism in Asia. My image, "Madame Butterfly sings the multi-verse," is an ode to my birth mother, my ancestors, the women of Asia and to Korea. A series of singing bowls, forming a seed like the spires of DNA, pink bubble-like cells, like cherry blossoms, each universe a different reality, a different dream, perhaps a world that sings with beauty and without such sacrifice. The question of my birth mother, the archetype for a fantasy, the woman I dream of becoming, Eumoni; mother. What is a grail? Christian mythology has imbued the Holy Grail with the power of immortality. It is the cup that Jesus drank from at the last supper. Pagan and gnostic interpretations equate the cup with a flower and with female sexuality. Today, the term is more commonly used as the ultimate consummation of one’s desire. When my son was little his pronunciation of girls was grails. I always wanted to have daughters, but was only given sons. As a Korean girl, imported to America I was re-named, Amy Doreen, this means beloved gift of god. This moniker was my adoptive mother’s desire and her religious tether. In the sea of pink, a girl like a flower is brewed for consumption, but the internal organism that she will become will one day break free. A natural disaster brings Dorothy’s house down. We begin with a death.  And then a blessing of ruby slippers, and safety But Dorothy only desires to go home. Only mildly charmed by the wonder of the world and remorseless for the deaths seen and rendered. Home, the shoes take her back, the price, a dream. How many times after waking will Dorothy have wondered how to get back to OZ? Red shoes, ruby slippers worn as a child. A golden rice pot grains like ripples of time and memory. Learn more about A.D.’s Illustrations, Prints & Fine Art here. See her work on Redbubble.