What could be more lonely than to be enveloped in silence to be the last of your people to speak your native tongue to have no way to pass on the wisdom of the elders to anticipate the promise of the children. This tragic fate is indeed the plight of someone somewhere roughly every two weeks.
Surely all art is the result of one's having been in danger of having gone through an experience all the way to the end where no one can go any further.
