There is a character in every story that exists beyond understanding—beyond mine as well. After much searching, countless images, missteps, and borrowed words, this is all that revealed itself: love is everything, and yet nothing. It holds all knowledge, strength, and joy, but keeps nothing for itself. Everything emerges from it, and everything dissolves back into it. Written across centuries and countless stories, it is what first meets us through our parents, returns to us in classrooms, friendships, and the moments we are willing to give everything without reason. Innocent like a child, infinite like the cosmos, love stands at the center; made in red kantha handwork, where the universe’s wisdom rests in just two and a half letters.