To find, nurture and make manifest one's "inner" voice, one's "little music," is possibly (one of) the most essential thing(s) one can (must?) do in one's lifetime.

Arvo Pärt (ärt) is a prime example of the worth of that pursuit, someone who, faced with much hostility from his society, still managed to carry on and cater to the human(e) side of life, creating and giving us his wonderful music.
Others, in his shoes, may have quit creating altogether, or pursue their work in a tantrum-like fashion, adding negativity to negativity ("Life is a bitch and then you die...").

The composition "used" for/in this sketch, "Für Alina 1" (piano: Alexander Malter) is yet another convincing demonstration that "less is more," that one does not need bangs and whistles to reach deep, to touch what is so elusive and yet vital in (hopefully) all of us.

I am currently witnessing the demise of a huge natural talent, seeing a person endowed with an exceptional "raw" artistic gift, being seduced away from her strength and this, by very superficial pseudo-intellectual "knowledge."
This is not the first time I witness this kind of tragedy, during my teaching years, I did see people with immense intuitive talent be lured away from themselves by the false-prophets of "smarts," lacking the courage required to "trust their darkness," falling for the illusion of "understanding" and "intentional doing."
So many magnificent paintings and drawings were dismissed by their creators "because it was not done on purpose!"

"Working by way of not-knowing" is our biggest asset and yet, most people are desperately trying to avoid it, searching (and falling) for "how-to" recipes.

So, this "For A." sketch is dedicated to A. (of course, even if she likely will never see it) and to all those who surrender the best they have to offer/discover (their "not-knowing") to what we, in French, call "un miroir aux alouettes" (a decoy).

T.S. Eliot had much to say about this:

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate. . .

— Little Gidding V, Four Quartets (1943)

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