#01 WALK WITH MI
This piece has an Estonian touch to it. It’s inspired by two great musical minds: Arvo Pärt and Urmas Sisask. Music is meditation, loud or soft, it always takes us to a special breathing space. Enjoy this short walk in e minor and feel free to make your own variations on it.
We are in lockdown.
Tonight I wonder what kind of tomorrow can come after today.
Music helps to find lighter shades in this sudden darkness.
I can’t yet grasp the sadness of what is happening.
This piece feels like a prelude… a prelude to the unknown.
#03 SILENT DREAM
Music simply helps me hold on to my dreams.
The older I become, the more I land in the seriousness of life, but dreams sealed within notes last forever.
This piece is for my girlfriend who misses her grandfather who passed away a few years ago. It’s for my childhood friend who lost her baby boy to leukaemia. It’s for my son who can’t hug his dad, not today, not tomorrow, not next week.
It’s for my goddaughter who misses her BFF’s.
It’s for myself, for the times when I fall into darkness, that I’ll always find the way out.
It’s for everyone who carries deep sadness in their heart.
Above this pain, now we all stand equally, face to face, with the virus that doesn’t care how many dear ones you have already lost or how much heartache has already been in your life. It will get to all of us if we don’t set and respect the boundaries.
Stay inside. Take a look inside. Stand face to face with your own pain. Learn to cherish the memories. Find a way away from anger or regret. Meet yourself in gratitude. Maybe we all have to say thank you for the past before we are granted a new future?
#05 WALK WITH ME 2
#06 THE EXIT
The phrase of the day is ‘the exit strategy’.
We’re getting ready to come out again.
The closer we move to the exit, the more silent I become.
Covid didn’t find it’s way to my household, so I can say: Life, thank you for this great silence during the last weeks and the chance to fall in love with my work again.
I simply love the piano.
Sometimes it takes care of me like an intensive care unit, other times it’s opening a portal to paradise. The piano makes me trust what’s invisible.
We see notes on paper, but music itself remains untouchable. It passes us by like a soft wind.
During these last weeks behind my piano, I’ve realised that when you know where you’re going, you can exit anytime and anywhere.