Dreamland lives in the space where imagination starts to feel safer than reality. It’s about what happens when inspiration goes too far, when devotion turns into fixation, and when the line between dreaming and living becomes impossible to see. The story is inspired by a ballerina who lost herself to the stage so completely that returning to real life no longer felt natural. A role that didn’t end with the performance. Olga Spessivtseva. Giselle. A character that stayed, followed her home, settled in her mind. Giselle was no longer something she danced. It became something she lived inside. At its core, this project is about derealisation. About dreaming too intensely. About building inner worlds so vivid that reality begins to feel distant, flat, almost irrelevant. It’s about obsession as a source of beauty and destruction at the same time. The kind of hyperfocus that creates something extraordinary, but quietly takes pieces of you with it. There is a moment where devotion stops being harmless. Where giving yourself to the stage becomes an exchange. The stage gives you something priceless: transcendence, purpose, the feeling of being entirely alive inside a role. But it takes something in return. Presence. Stability. The ability to come back. Once that line is crossed, it doesn’t fully reverse. You can step away, but something stays altered. Reality never quite feels the same again. And maybe that’s the risk every artist takes, knowingly or not. Dreamland exists in that fragile in-between. Where imagination becomes a refuge, then a replacement. Where losing yourself feels seductive. And where the question remains unresolved: are dreams a gift that elevate us beyond ourselves, or a curse that asks us to disappear in order to create something beautiful?