Taken out of context, an image often simply can’t be placed. While tagging this one for the blog, I was sure it had been taken in Carinthia, peobably near home. I couldn’t remember the situation, but at least Carinthia seemed like a safe bet.
Wrong. It was in Vienna. I still can’t place it exactly, but now I remember.
That’s the difference between taking images as memories and doing what I do. I like to call it art (and I think that I sometimes succeed in that regard), but whatever you call it, it’s not for the purpose of recording memories. Rather much to the contrary 😀