(Description)

In Follow The Lost Umbrella, I observed sightseeing in Venice, curious: when does a place become a sight worth seeing? Additionally, I deliberately separated the reading of the text written as a report of this experience from the slide show that would usually follow the text in real-time. I separated or connected (?) these two elements with a walk in order to emphasize a walk as an inseparable part of my work.

A few weeks later, I tried to observe the sightseeing in Vienna, where I have lived for more than ten years. What does it take to be a tourist at home? Is it possible at all? I remembered a ride in Prater, a famous amusement park in Vienna, that I visited and took almost every week in my first year of life in Vienna - Star Flyer. It was a funny coincidence that the only ride visible from a spot where the premises of my PhD program are situated is this one which I knew so well. I decided to revisit it to take a picture of the building where I study precisely from up there.

I repeated the usual procedure of mine: I go for a walk and record videos of everything that triggers curiosity, thoughts, and impressions. Afterward, I write the notes about this experience automatically without much control over the order. I let memories come naturally, and I recall the observations. After I write the story, I revisit the videos and take screenshots that add, follow, or depart from the written part.

It turned out that my attempt to be a tourist at home was a hardly possible mission. As long as I felt familiar with what I had seen or expected to see, it was a frustrating experience. Only when I discovered an attraction, and in this case, it was another girl feeling familiar with the ride she takes every day for days, I managed to extract myself from my feeling of being home by watching someone who feels more at home than me.