Waiting

Aliza Bejarano’s Waiting portrays the past, present, and future. I am from the tail end of the generation that partially grew up without cell phones. When I was 12 years old and began to take the train to school by myself, my parents got me (and themselves) my first 15-key brick-like cellphone. Besides playing Snake on the simple L.E.D. screen, it did not offer much distraction from long lines or grownups’ boring conversations. So, for at least 12 years (I’d argue more, in so far as comparing my Nokia to a smartphone is like comparing an electric car to a Ford Model T [but. I accept and understand the groans of older folks when I say something along these lines]) I experienced the world without technological distraction (I did not have video games, cable, and my parents’ computer was akin to a typewriter). But I agree with the sentiment I believe Bejarano expresses in this beautiful painting: while the sight of a child staring into a screen is odd for those of us who grew up staring into comic books, the lighthearted distraction is the same as it ever was (or, at the very least, children have not been robbed of the wonders of juvenile innocence).