For my part, Istvan’s “reverse” dome is like the Hungarian poet’s, Ágnes Nemes Nagy, veil as the metaphor for Rachel: the opposition of the tightly and the loosely woven verses are explained by the heavy wafers of gold on a translucent fabric. In both, there are at the same time some weightiness and gravity, and also some airiness in the background of the former. (However, “background” is not the most correct term in the respect of such works of art). Depending on whom I identify myself with on the etching, the discovery starts. My attention first falls upon that massive one among the human artefacts (a down-to-earth person for sure) which – paradoxically – is floating here. The lately visited miraculous Newgrange Sacred Site comes into my mind: through the boulder-like stones, the light comes in as it does in the picture, too. And I also think of Stonehenge: rocks of thousand pounds arranged with astronomical and scientific accuracy. These are the crumbling blocks of prehistoric times covered with grass and ivy. My natural fear of height is likely to develop: I can hardly look up into a dome, the man-made space weighs upon me. However, the aspect changes. Behold! I can notice the constructed in the airy: I invert into inside level and I see the massive stones as shadows. In a moment, the cathedral is built of cloud-marbles, and with some time-travel, you can look through the plate – the oculus of the Pantheon – onto the night sky. This huge hole – abusing the viewer’s liberty – is to be stopped for example on a… sock. On my dome darning-egg – carefully turning the inside out – you can repair it by all means.