Sharon Chin

I started a newsletter called Smoke Signals! A warm welcome to my new home on the internet. Please come over (and subscribe)! Read more →

Text of a speech I read at the book launch of ‘Salleh Ben Joned: Truth, Beauty, Amok and Belonging’ by Anna Salleh, on 1 Dec 2023. I never met Salleh. I know him through words. When I came back from studying in Australia, I was full of ideas. Read more →

A little ode to the Bintangor tree at Monkey Bay, Tanjung Tuan. Read more →

Practice Diary 4 – It was low tide, and the small bit of shore in front of the tree was revealed. I went down there – it was like standing on the front porch of my home. A porch the sea was coming for, the tree being the house. I turned back to look at her, and from that point of view I finally understood the mystery of those exposed roots. Read more →

Practice Diary 3 – Started 3 March, finished 8 March 2023 Behind every image lies feelings, memories, thoughts and emotions, pressing up like thorns, or a body… a body of thorns – their sharp tips push against the skin, threatening to puncture it. The screen is hard glass, but it offers endless images that are… Read more →

Practice Diary 2 – 28 Feb 2023 There is so much that I want to do. I want to collect all the red fabric that washes up on the beach and sew it into a mantle to hang around the shrine. I want to collect the fallen, tannin-rich leaves to dye an old bedsheet, and… Read more →

Practice Diary 1 – Mon, 27 Feb 2022 Tossing and turning in the chrysalis. Breaking down a dream. The images change but the pattern stays the same. It’s always a house I can’t leave. I think this is the first time I dreamt it as a Mall. It’s the one I grew up in –… Read more →

What I’ve always loved and wished for is a tamarind tree, and in late 2019 I met a grand old one, with a narrow bit of land attached. The tree commands the entire eastern side. I’ve always believed you don’t own land and what stands on it, it’s just a contract of promise one makes to honour it whilst fulfilling a wish. Read more →