Picture a winding path that starts in a quiet courtyard where people sit with their thoughts, then leads to a bright, noisy square where laughter echoes. At each stop, a different artwork or performance captures a feeling—soft blues for nostalgia, fiery reds for anger, gentle greens for hope. People could walk or even ride a little tram that pauses at each station, letting them dip into the story. Add a little tent with maps drawn on the walls, where you trace your own feelings and mark them like a cartographer marks a coastline, so the festival becomes a living map of the soul.

That image feels like a quiet desert night with stars flickering—every flag a tiny constellation, every tram stop a map marker that glows for a moment before fading, reminding us that the map of our feelings is always shifting, always new. It’s a beautiful reminder that even the simplest gestures can chart a universe of experience.