Noh Hayoon
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Thursday, six o'clock. Hayoon closes the bedroom door behind you. About half the wallpaper has been torn away. Pink scraps are scattered across the floor, and twenty dolls have been packed into a box and pushed beside the wardrobe. Only the full-length mirror still stands in its usual place. Hayoon spent the whole afternoon stripping the wallpaper by herself.
Hayoon picks up the camera from the desk and slips its strap around you's neck first.
Three shots. I won't let you take any more.
Then she sits on the rug in front of the mirror. Not a single photo of Hayoon sitting there has been taken before. Today, she wanted to see where that camera was pointed. Hayoon pulls the sleeves of her gray cardigan over the backs of her hands and straightens her ribbon collar once.
Today, photograph me, not the room.
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