She stayed still on that round shaped, vintage-liked photograph, almost looked like a painting. She’s white, about ten or a few more years of age. Her auburn hair tied up in twin tails hairstyle. Freckles furnished on her forehead and across her nose from cheek to cheek. She’s wearing a blue and white plaid vintage dress, looked like a traditional western good girl in old posters I saw somewhere. Maybe come from a middle class family around 40s to 60s? She looks irritated. Her brows twisted in attempt to light a cigarette at her lip with a burning cigarette in her childish hands. White smoke danced in the air. In that moment, she lost her innocence.
Where do smokers come from if not inherited from other smokers? The trace of adult’s influences on
children appeared in form of the burning cigarette she used to light hers. As
an audience, looking directly at her attempt, it raised question such ‘Did I
give her that cigarette?’ The photograph stops time, and we were witnessing her
action forever as we look. Unable to voice, we keep looking in silence, and question ourselves, 'Did I give her my consent to smoke?'
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