I think my tutor just might be getting a bit sick of us. After all, it is week 10. And 2.5 hours straight is a really long time to be in a classroom. We did a little exercise in our tute yesterday. We were paired up, and sent outside to take turns stalking each other. It was the second time she’d sent us out of class – she sent us out the first time to look for the “uncanny” and the “abject” in our building.Stalking is fun. I feel like a detective when I’m stalking. We were supposed to write down our observations of the other person – where they went, what they did, how they walked, their mannerisms, the space around them… It also meant we looked marginally silly walking and scribbling furiously at the same time.
Winnie found me on my little stalk. I didn’t notice her till she was right beside me – busy stalking, you see. You should have come with us, Winnie. Andrew – my stalkee – decided to take a little walk along Grattan, dash across the road suddenly, wander to the lifts opposite John Medley, and go down to the basement car parks for a little ramble.
Then it was my turn. Being stalked is really fun. I took him for a stroll around a tree once, but then he wised up, and he didn’t follow me as closely anymore in case I decided to do more random u-turning. I tried to, believe me. I’m sure people were looking at us funny, or at me anyway. I picked things up, I poked at things with my pencil, I balanced my notebook on a low tree branch and left it there while I went around kicking at leaves. (Hey, it would be pretty boring to just walk and do nothing else, don’t you think?)
It was fun. You should try it someday, without telling the person you’re stalking. Though after we got back to class, I wished I’d thought of wandering over to Union House for a frozen yoghurt instead.
