By Martin Llamedo, Argentina.
Martin Llamedo challenges himself and his subject with a game between pleasure and suicide, with the unfairness of hereditary preponderance, and how some are more prone to certain diseases and cancers. Rather than doing what is right in the eyes of social constructs, she is unruly, self-destructive, and rebellious, exposing the conventions of formal beauty.
Instead of reducing her chances of death, she enhances them by smoking. To show off, she tilts her head and opens her mouth ever so slightly, letting out a wisp of smoke. Her own time of life slides away erotically. The dark, destructive night melts in her eyes; a tear and a bead of sweat drag the blackened, carefree makeup surrounding her sensual, suggestive gaze of enjoyment and self-absorption of fleeting, temporary pleasure.
Surrounded by a hazy smog, three figures are separated within the scene. They portray memories of not only herself, but also of her ancestors who stand for her destiny of death, anticipated by her genetics: they coexist in the same instant as a prison and a showcase.
In front of her stands a table of minimalistic construction, representing the metastasis of her hereditary timeline, her cancer. On this table are planetary shapes symbolic of the ether, the universe, and the planets, together they form a constellation. On the right, glass droplets are shaped as tears with astonishingly sharp edges.
She holds and caresses a glass vase with smoke inside, which symbolizes her memories. Most profoundly, the smoke has the shape of a DNA strand with a star-like constellation contained inside. This summarizes the coexistence of her peers and her ancestors, time, and space… a universe in a bottle.
Her DNA strand dictates her sentence prematurely while simultaneously, she multiplies it through her uncaringness, causing more chances of death.