The people of the world are limbs from one body,
sharing one essence.
When a single limb is oppressed,
all the others suffer agony.
~ Sa'adi of Shiraz
With the word creative we stand under a mystery. And from time to time that mystery, as if it were a sun, sends down upon one head or another, a sudden shaft of light—by grace, one feels, rather than deserving, for it always is something given, free, unsought, unexpected. It is useless, possibly even profane, to ask for an explanation.