Today, I accept that part of myself that will never be satisfied, and I comfort and tame it. There is a place in me that knows it will never necessarily solve the eternal questions of life: Who am I and where do I come from, and where do I go when I die? Part of me wants to know the answers to these questions. But I am beginning to feel that the answer is to live fully in the question, to open to the mystery. Perhaps meaning is not knowing and understanding, but an acceptance of mystery, an embracing of the unknown. After all, it is this evanescent sense of mystery that gives even the most ordinary circumstance an eternal sort of glow—a sense of depth, a feeling that there is more.

The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery. 
Francis Bacon