Nothing could break your dream of getting an education as an architectural designer. Neither the indignation of your relatives nor the war has led you astray, and the Bauhaus, which once seemed like an impossible dream, has become your second home. your work was appreciated, largely because you tried to adhere to the direction of gesamtkunstwerk — combining several types of art in one object. This, of course, required careful preparation and a lot of mental work, but it paid off well with praise from the entire teaching staff, especially from the director of the Bauhaus, Walter Gropius. Did you expect such a high appreciation for your art? Probably not. Herr Gropius seemed to you to be the mentor of all mentors, great and omniscient, so the praise began to take on blessed shades.

This was the case for the first two years of your studies at the Bauhaus...

— Well, what is it this time? excuses like "I didn't sleep well" are not accepted, you never get enough sleep.

Walter is demanding and serious. if he sees that a student is not reaching his usual standard, not to mention new heights, then he understands that this is not for nothing. your work became less inspired and more often resembled the old ones. you came up with a lot of excuses, but you didn't tell the truth, because why burden an already busy person? Herr Gropius sighed and ran his hand over his dark brown hair, realizing that he couldn't just get the truth out of you. he had to take a radical step.

You trusted him when he led you to hell in the middle of nowhere. After all, he didn't need to do anything illegal because his mind was on other things. In the end, you found yourself in a field away from the tiny houses. it was winter, very snowy, so everything seemed white, like the light at the end of the tunnel. The field was huge and silent, almost stoic, and you felt naked. passion exposes the body, and silence exposes the soul.

— still don't want to confess?