[그 순간] 뻥튀기 직전

The rice puffing machine at the market: on the edge of a Korean five-day country market, an old man in a cap crouches beside a black cast-iron rice-puffing drum over a small fire, one hand on the release lever, about to open it. Around him a ring of children and two grandmothers stand back with fingers pressed into their ears and eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the bang. A wire mesh cage and big clear plastic bags waiting for the puffed grain, sacks of rice and corn, a wisp of steam from the drum. Bright winter afternoon. Ordinary everyday Korean faces, natural anatomy, photorealistic candid. No text, no letters, no logos.