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