'When I was seven years old, I experienced my very first and most bitter disappointment. I absolutely loved music. So much so, that I even dreamed of going to music school and learning to play the piano. How joyful I was when I found out that I’d get to go there! With eager anticipation, I savored the image of my favorite preludes and waltzes simply flowing out of my fingers. But things didn’t turn out so easily at all… Music school turned out to be a total nightmare.

For hours, I was tormented by merciless sheet music, trudging through the notes as if I were stumbling through dense jungles. My fingers refused to do what I wished; music wasn’t being made. My teacher didn’t notice all of this and commanded that I play with “expression and beauty!” Oh, is that all there is to it? Where the heck was the beauty that she was talking about? How could I hear the music I was playing when I was just trying to make my fingers hit the right keys on time?'...