I dreamt that I was visiting a museum of sorts that was dedicated to the interconnections between art, science, philosophy, literature, music, and so on. A large number of leading representatives of all these disciplines were invited early in the last century to collectively produce the drawings, maps, and diagrams exploring the many interconnections. All the rooms were connected following the same logic. Every wall was covered with the works, many of which were enormous. There were no explanations anywhere, though. I was walking through the deserted place by myself, fully aware that I would need a good guide to understand the whole thing. At some point I came to a room that was different than the others: a large doorway leading to the next room was barred by several drawing tables. “Dead End,” pronounced a large piece of paper on one of the tables. It appeared that the room into which I could look through the doorway was accessible from some other room in the museum, but I could not figure out the way there. When I looked a bit more carefully, the adjoining room was dedicated to the world of the spirit. But I woke up before I could find my way to it.