How good to be home. Tension eased, at least temporarily. Outings to the instability are never very creative. One, at least, is clear: I'll 'My shipwrecked'. Without any obligations established whether we really have something to say to each other, or all the misunderstanding associated with my desire to find yourself in a beautiful exteriors. Because, in fact, it all started with a longing for the sea. To live in the Tour, to sit on the birch log, endlessly admiring the waves. Then, perhaps, this wide white sandy beach, absolutely unreal and so comfortable. Smooth sand and waves rolling. So now we can only get down to business. I know the following: in the midst of a luxurious masquerade boat is sinking in the vicinity of some uninhabited group of islands in the middle of the ocean. Several people have chosen to shore. Only hints, no indication or clarification. Elements, harnessed, as in the theater. Not the slightest realism. Everything should be dazzling clean, a little frivolous eighteenth century, unreal, superreality, fantastic paint.