I've always been fascinated with rhythms in which the personal stories of people's lives are happening. Especially with events and situations they're made of, above all with moments stopped in that what we use to call the fluency of time, and with all that concerns us. Monday: Twenty-six years have passed by since I set off to conquer the world. One boy's aspiration towards the achievement of all that we use to call the dreams, and the reality of achieved ones, are the journey of one of those boys whom it is rumoured about that they consciously decide not to grow up. I've never even intended that, neither I've known how to do it. Just imagine, the child's aspiration to become big, to reach the highest branch. Unlike the most of the children who were rising up in arms against growing up process, the Boy neither knew how nor he managed to grow up, and he didn't intend, not at all, to disturb the tale of a Big world. He always had a feeling his own story was something special. As if it was for him to unriddle some huge puzzle. A puzzle for whose solution he had to explore worlds that surrounded him, connecting his own story with many others in a story of a Big world. Many years later he will realize he was the one himself who chose the role of a searcher for the secret of a Big world. Not knowing that, he met many searchers during his own adventures, and many more will be met. Some of them share the same secrets with him. Lots of them share many others.