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youths in love with each other； and was reminded of the love my own

handsome apprentices nourished for painting。 A tiny…footed； transparent…

skinned；　weak　and　girlish　youth　had　bared　a　delicate　forearm；　which　aroused

in one the desire to kiss it and die； while a cherry…lipped； almond…eyed；

sapling…thin；　button…nosed　beauty　of　a　maiden　gazed　with　wonder—as　though

viewing　three　lovely　flowers—upon　the　three　small；　deep　marks　of　passion　the

youth had burned onto the inside of that adorable arm to demonstrate the

strength　of　his　love　and　his　attachment　to　her。

Oddly；　my　heart　began　to　quicken　and　pound。　As　had　happened　sixty　years

ago in my early apprenticeship； while I was looking at some rather indecent

illustrations of handsome marble…skinned boys and slim small…breasted

maidens　drawn　in　the　black…ink　style　of　Tabriz；　beads　of　sweat　accumulated　on

my　forehead。　I　recalled　the　passion　for　painting　I　felt　and　the　depth　of　thought

I experienced when； a few years after I’d married and taken my first steps

toward master status； I saw a lovely angel…faced； almond…eyed； rose…petal…

skinned　youth　brought　in　as　an　apprentice　candidate。　For　a　moment；　I　had　the

strong feeling that painting was not about melancholy and regret but about

this desire I felt and that it was the talent of the master artist that first

transformed　this　desire　into　a　love　of　God　and　then　into　a　love　of　the　world　as

God　saw　it；　so　strong　was　this　feeling　that　it　caused　me　to　relive　with　ecstatic

delight all the years I’d spent over the drawing board