We take an elevator that is just an elevator, a metal box that transports weight up and down, no fancy light or mirrors here, nor doors that open and close by themselves. Arrived at the last floor the smell of iron and oil tells us this is not a place for the general public, we go then through rooms with big ventilation, water and electricity machines as if one would be going inside the belly of a large cruise ship and could see the raw reality of what keeps the fiction of luxury up there.
We finally reach the roof of Robna kuća RI, we walk to the edge and meet Rijeka.
I have always here the same feeling: Wide perspectives are a challenge, a stress test for anxiety. I am there, standing in front of the view of an entire city and each wall, each roof and sidewalk is aking me to include them in my narrative, in my emotional memory, I briefly look at the horizon to find peace again, but then again a group of people on the street or a train that passes just in time bring me back to this game of “focus-out of focus” that decides the direction of my gaze, and the relevance of these elements within my mental story.
MaM begins, we go little by little from the general to the particular, from the broad perspective to the close up, from the group to the individual, and vice versa.
We take the elevator down and we have already changed, there is nothing like playing with fiction to enjoy reality again.
