It’s hard to pinpoint the beginning of a new work, but here’s an attempt to do so only a little while after the thing has put on flesh. Three things:
From David M Carrolls’ Following the Water: A Hydromancer’s Notebook:
“They say that the Sufi is always looking for his beloved,” she said. “You are always seeking your beloved.”
From Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cresssida, Act III, Scene 2:
Nothing, but our undertakings when we vow to weep seas,
live in fire, eat rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for our
mistress to devise imposition enough than for us to undergo any
difficulty imposed. This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that
the will is infinite, and the execution confin’d; that the desire
is boundless, and the act a slave to limit.
And an image:
Or two:
