ttempted to drarait in cime, patiently. Mucer,  resemble my face in t tears ers t Enis? I to be one of t if I illustrated in t state of mind, I could perrait.

    Later still, I cursed ters and Enis I’d done and began looking into to begin another drawing.

    Ultimately, I found myself reets again, and t t even sure o come ered, I felt suc about mingling urists and calligrap s accumulated on my forehead.

    I sensed t tcing eac, I could plainly see t. I seated myself in trying to beurally. At time my eyes sougers, my dear bret one time, I’d served as Master Osman’s apprentice. I ain eaco dra desperate efforts, taking test arranged by ts quite seriously.

    toryteller effendi  yet begun ure  even been . I o socialize he coffeehouse crowd.

    So be it t me be frank oo, made jokes, told indecent stories, kissed my companions on ted gestures, spoke in double entendres, innuendos and puns, asked ant masters er I really  so far as to roug, kno a part of my soul remained mercilessly silent .

    Nonet only succeeded in using figurative language to compare my o , to bruses, newel

    posts, door knockers, leeks, minarets, lady fingers in rees, and to tself, I ty boys to oranges, figs, small ries, pilloo tiny ant conceited of to compare ool—quite amateuris any self-confidence I migo a s and a porter’s pole. Furto old miniaturists’ dicks t ices; master calligrapain place (“t disgusting nook”);  into tead of rose petals; t great masters of tabriz and Siful boys