In a white atmosphere. An empty house of men. A women's house. For reasons of life ... and what a life! What you see is never reality. The public and the private. The house as a therapy space to stand the street. The person and the society. We will never know who we are and what we are capable of. The others force us to the definition. A rug extended by Ibsen in a white atmosphere to let go of our deepest, truest soul realities. Spectra.