I had a wonderful dream. In this dream, impossibly beautiful people told me their stories, and somehow, all those stories were about me. Then it turned out that all of us were in a theatre auditorium. The performance wasn't starting, I looked around and saw that the actors were in the audience with the spectators. Awaiting the performance, all present are talking to each other, as if they've known each other for many years, haven't seen each other for all these years, and finally met up. They were all speaking at the same time, but it was a polyphony, every voice stood out, and at the same time, they sounded in unison. Then silence fell, and out of this silence, a performance was born; its action somehow resembled movies of a famous Polish director, whose name I couldn't remember. The action on the stage could hardly be expressed through words, because it mostly consisted of fragile, crystal silence and light, shimmering, fluid color palette. It was truly beautiful: rich blue, turning pale, transformed into cold, almost transparent white, that grew darker and became alarming, threatening, bloody red and then, like the sun that in the last moment of the sunset decided not to set and risen again, bloomed, becoming blindingly bright, warm – apricot.