The Versatile Master Artist

”This is the ’LUNHUI (Reincarnation)’ in my heart.”

Professor Boggs said this with a rather peculiar Mandarin accent.

Watching him place the cat on his shoulder and pose with his hands clasped together, he looked no different from those old men and women in Dongxia who spend their days with beads and incense at famous temples and mountains.

”I’m an Outer Sect Layman!”

Seeing the curious looks from everyone, Professor Boggs puffed out his chest.

This lifetime professor at an art academy surprisingly turned out to be a foreign enthusiast of Buddhism.

Not surprising.

The Western art circle has always been a melting pot of various religious beliefs.

Shintoism, Zoroastrianism, Hinduism, Mormonism, Joyful Zen, True Word Sect... all kinds of strange and obscure sects have their followers. Some, holding a copy of ”Walden Lake,” live like ancient hermits, seeking peace of mind outdoors. On the other hand, it’s a constant call for caution that throughout history, it’s never been short of scams that use all sorts of psychotherapy labels to exploit and manipulate people.

Among artists, enthusiasts of Zen meditation, yoga, and vegetarianism are rampant and wildly diverse.

The elders of the Ilyena family have for years donated generously to Melk Abbey, a small reflection of the intertwined relationship between art and religion.

Buddhism is one of the world’s major religions.

There are far more foreign followers in the literature and art circle than ordinary people imagine.

Arthur C. Clarke, Jackson Pollock, John Cage, and many other famous figures have all created works influenced by Zen Buddhism.

Everyone was intrigued by Professor Boggs’ words, craning their necks and focusing intently to see what amazing work Professor Boggs had painted.

That it could be related to something called ”Reincarnation,” which sounds profound and mysterious.

The seventh canvas on the easel.

The theme still revolved around the life scenes of Tony and the cat Amy, a painting knife painting.

The sunset fell from the horizon.

Tony and the cat sat side by side on the swing.

Their shadows stretched long, all the way to the edge of the painting, where the horizon ends.

The painting skill of compressing and blending colors with an oil painting knife mastered by Professor Boggs was perfect for expressing this kind of hazy light and shadow effect.

The sunset, at the boundary of day and dusk, was blended into a chaotic mist, with light and darkness intermingling.

The sunlight was refracted into gray, with a hint of frosty white.

It was as if they were in the Netherworld, a place not of this world.

”Is this it?”

After watching quietly for a few seconds, the assistant raised his head in confusion.

He felt a bit of an uncontrollable disappointment in his heart.

Not that the painting wasn’t good enough.

The painting knife painting in front of him maintained Professor Boggs’ usual high standard, standing alone as an excellent piece of oil painting art.

But given how Professor Boggs was speaking so certainly about Zen Buddhism, about being a layman, about the pinnacle of art philosophy.

The assistant’s expectations had been raised to a very high point.

Even though the painting before him was beautiful, compared to previous works, it did not stand out as particularly extraordinary!

The so-called grand ”Reincarnation” that Professor Boggs spoke of.

He couldn’t see what it was about at all.

”How is this Zen Buddhism?”

Giving an art piece a pretentious and abstract name is part of the usual naming operation at exhibitions.

Especially those expensive avant-garde artworks.

The name takes up a large part of the selling point.

Just titles such as ”Warm Butts,” ”01010,” ”Cola and Blood,” ”Milton,” these nonsensical names that normal people can’t make sense of, make critics want to write countless extensive essays on them.

If Professor Boggs is doing the same...

The assistant can understand but still can’t help feeling disappointed.

”The painting is quite excellent, quite exquisite!” Professor Boggs held his head high.

He had a look as if you were very fortunate to witness the birth of such an outstanding work, waiting for everyone’s praise and flattery.

”The knife touches the lines with some flavor.”

The assistant saw that Jean Arnou wasn’t speaking.

Considering that these paintings had indeed captured his interest just now, he casually commented out of goodwill.

”Just some flavor?”

Professor Boggs became a bit displeased instead.

The old man looked at the assistant dismissively through his nostrils.

To have such a reaction to such a fantastic work, to not even hit the right note in flattery, was just sluggish mud that couldn’t be helped.

If this guy were a student at the Brooklyn Academy of Art, with such an art appreciation ability, he could forget about earning his diploma.

”In the related materials, I haven’t seen such a scene, it should be your fiction, Professor Boggs. Moreover...”

Lady Anya murmured.

There were plenty of ready-made photo collections on the ranch, and she could access Amy’s photos more easily than Gu Weijing, even skipping the trouble of scanning them into electronic versions.

In her impression.

After reaching the age where ordinary people go to middle school, Tony never sat together with Amy on that little swing in the ranch anymore.

The art of painting doesn’t record rigid fragments.

It’s a frozen movie for all viewers, another dimension of the world.

The great painter’s pursuit of the most excellent artworks contains a complete worldview and philosophy in just one painting.