For the first time in 17 years the director enters her childhood home in Montenegro, a single fragile building that survived a brutal transition. Inside, removing cellophane tarps reveal less her memories than the immobility between the past of a civil war and a future with meager illusions. At each cardinal point, a filmic territory opens within the separated Balkan territory, reenacting vivid dreams as an attempt to adapt to the reality of a new world order, or to freedom. The film situates the artist and questions the place of the spectator in a new world order initiated by the dismembering of Yugoslavia, where a contemporary cartography in economical territories has succeeded to that of countries or nations, and where spin doctors, war mongers and celebrities become the common storytellers and replace filmmakers in describing the world, with an ensuing alienation.