Part of the Series The Other Side of Mountains, 2025
Yutong Lin x Le Lin
2025
8-page fold out risograph zine and 9 risograph posters installation
Zine: 14cm x 10.8cm (5.5” x 4.25”) folded, 27.9cm x 43.2cm (11” x 17”) open
Posters: 27.9cm x 43.2cm (11” x 17”)
MZ790 colors: riso black and blue on Mohawk Via Vellum 70 Text pale grey paper, assorted colored paper.
Yutong Lin x Le Lin
2025
8-page fold out risograph zine and 9 risograph posters installation
Zine: 14cm x 10.8cm (5.5” x 4.25”) folded, 27.9cm x 43.2cm (11” x 17”) open
Posters: 27.9cm x 43.2cm (11” x 17”)
MZ790 colors: riso black and blue on Mohawk Via Vellum 70 Text pale grey paper, assorted colored paper.
This zine is a photographic voyage on the Dongba Wayfinding Scripture—a journey, not a destination. In the Wayfinding Scripture (Chinese: 指路经), a form of textual geography found in Naxi culture and echoed across many ethnic traditions of Southwest China and Southeast Asia, spirits and souls trace their return to a dreamt-of homeland, lost in the past. Through this recounting of a migratory passage, the soul gathers the footsteps of the ancestors, moving steadily toward reunion with its people in the afterlife.
Translation of the text in zine:
To catch up with Apu (grandfather) of the third generation,
And Azu (great-grandfather) of the fourth.
The sheep must return to the sheepfold,
The mountain goats must return to the cliffs.
O ancestors who have ended this life,
Do not steal even when you reach the underworld.
We, like little white cranes following the winter,
Like young turtledoves following the summer,
Must gather back the footsteps we left behind,
Retrieve the traces we once tread.
We gather the experiences of our former lives,
Placing them on the road and bridge where ancestral souls return.
In that time from fourteen year-old to twenty-five,
The pear tree bloomed with white flowers—a year;
The flowing water foamed—a lifetime.
White clouds serve as curtains,
Borrowing your beloved, forehead against forehead,
Two hearts placed together,
Bodies lying on jagged rocks,
Yet feeling no pain.
You two were like a pair of steeds, grazing in the meadows,
Like a pair of yaks, contentedly locking horns in play,
Drinking together, eating together.
The footsteps once tread are gathered again,
Placed on the road ancestral souls must travel,
Set at the bridgehead ancestral souls must cross.
How many melodies were once sung?
How many fine meals were shared in the homes of kin and clan?
Though not falcons, we must repay the debts owed to the sky;
Though not tigers, we must repay the debts owed to the mountain peaks;
Though not deer, we must repay the debts owed to the slopes;
Though not white cranes, we must repay the debts owed to the white clouds;
Though not coots, we must repay the debts owed to the sea;
Though not caravan traders, we must repay the debts owed to the goods carried by horses.
Translation of the text in zine:
To catch up with Apu (grandfather) of the third generation,
And Azu (great-grandfather) of the fourth.
The sheep must return to the sheepfold,
The mountain goats must return to the cliffs.
O ancestors who have ended this life,
Do not steal even when you reach the underworld.
We, like little white cranes following the winter,
Like young turtledoves following the summer,
Must gather back the footsteps we left behind,
Retrieve the traces we once tread.
We gather the experiences of our former lives,
Placing them on the road and bridge where ancestral souls return.
In that time from fourteen year-old to twenty-five,
The pear tree bloomed with white flowers—a year;
The flowing water foamed—a lifetime.
White clouds serve as curtains,
Borrowing your beloved, forehead against forehead,
Two hearts placed together,
Bodies lying on jagged rocks,
Yet feeling no pain.
You two were like a pair of steeds, grazing in the meadows,
Like a pair of yaks, contentedly locking horns in play,
Drinking together, eating together.
The footsteps once tread are gathered again,
Placed on the road ancestral souls must travel,
Set at the bridgehead ancestral souls must cross.
How many melodies were once sung?
How many fine meals were shared in the homes of kin and clan?
Though not falcons, we must repay the debts owed to the sky;
Though not tigers, we must repay the debts owed to the mountain peaks;
Though not deer, we must repay the debts owed to the slopes;
Though not white cranes, we must repay the debts owed to the white clouds;
Though not coots, we must repay the debts owed to the sea;
Though not caravan traders, we must repay the debts owed to the goods carried by horses.
