The Versatile Master Artist

But before they met each other, Manet once flew into a rage because the critics claimed that a new, famous young painter in Paris painted in a style similar to his, feeling insulted.

It’s a bit like complimenting two movie stars in private, saying they are equally beautiful, and one of them thinks how could such a bitch be compared to herself, so one who’s slightly more capricious might just throw a glass of champagne over.

In literature, there’s no first place; in martial arts, no second.

Professor Boggs confidently came to defeat Detective Cat, but now his work and the other’s digital version are pretty much neck and neck.

Hearing such praise from himself.

How could this old man not feel uncomfortable inside?

The assistant’s understanding of painting knife painting is far inferior to Anya’s.

But when it comes to emotional intelligence and smooth handling of interpersonal situations, it’s possible he could easily outwit everyone in the room except for Dr. Jin Anqing combined.

Seeing Professor Boggs looking on the verge of an outburst, he discreetly added fuel to the fire first.

”SHIT! Outsiders should just shut up.”

Professor Boggs indeed exploded with rage.

He couldn’t hold back and cursed under his breath.

”Techniques that are evenly matched? What a bullshit description.” Professor Boggs’s eye twitched.

The assistant was ready to gracefully perform a tea ceremony—”I’m sorry, I’m just an ordinary spectator, I didn’t mean to provoke you with my earlier compliment, I really apologize, I was just expressing my feelings, thinking both your paintings are equally beautiful” when.

He heard Professor Boggs continue, ”How do I deserve to speak of unmatched skills in front of this set of works?”

Huh?

The assistant was stunned.

He wondered if he had misheard, as things seemed to be unfolding differently than planned.

Professor Boggs ignored the crowd’s astonishment.

He crossed his hands, like Xi Shi holding her heart, with reverence flashing in his eyes: ”Her cats are painted so beautifully, so full of spirit. Her painting hands must have been kissed by the Muse Goddess.”

The assistant’s face twitched slightly.

Did the old guy really go mad because he couldn’t handle the blow?

”Your painting is also very good. Of course, her cats do have a lot of spirit,” Anya said.

”No, for a set of works themed around cats. Cats are everything, and just based on portraying ’Amy’ as the main character, Detective Cat is far superior to my shallow depiction,” Professor Boggs shook his head.

The assistant misunderstood one thing from the start.

Borges may be an eccentric, narcissistic old man, but the professor has always been a very pure artist.

Truly pure artists to a certain extent are often seen as incomprehensible oddballs, mindless followers of art.

He is so proud.

Proud enough only to be lazy and angry at the digital artwork submitted by Detective Cat, but not angry at Detective Cat’s excellent paintings.

Even if Professor Boggs traveled a long distance here, full of confidence to trample Detective Cat underfoot.

But as long as he has presented his best painting state, even if he were to be clawed across the face by Detective Cat as a result.

Professor Boggs might feel disappointed, but not regretful.

He might even, like a masochist, remain very excited.

Without madness, there is no life.

In the Battle of Waterloo in a madman’s mind, if he was destined not to become Wellington, being a defeated Napoleon is also an honor.

The key is art.

The key is... this set of paintings has again taught Professor Boggs that he thought he’d reached the limit of playing with oil painting knives, but it turned out he could paint like this!

There are always higher skies.

”The Little Prince” opened the door to the highest technique for Professor Boggs.

The paintings on the TV in front of him, opened a new field for Professor Boggs in how to use a painting knife to interpret a good story.

With the characteristic of abstract and hazy, could an oil painting knife really achieve such vivid realism!

The exquisite agility of these cats has already escaped the shackles of the bold and free style of painting knife art, and objectively rivals the realistic expression of some watercolor works.

Boggs, upon realizing his painting is inferior to Detective Cat’s, had been frustrated, tugging at his beard, his hands waving and grabbing wildly in the air.

It wasn’t from Parkinson’s.

The old professor was struggling in his mind to recreate the scenario when Detective Cat painted.

With over fifty years devoted to a single medium in painting, even without a painting knife, canvas, and paint, it could support him in recreating an oil painting with his imagination from nothing.

Professor Boggs discovered.

He could perfectly replicate every stroke and line of Detective Cat’s work, but when these brushstrokes and textures were put together in his mind, they still felt a few levels away from the artwork on the screen.

Similar to assembling a computer with a bunch of electronic components per the instructions, putting everything together, but the computer just won’t start up.

He lacked the emotional essence.

Up to now, Professor Boggs still hasn’t figured it out for sure.

They were both painting from photos, how did Detective Cat manage to inject such vibrant magic at the blink of a cat’s eye or the twitch of a whisker?

But he’s already realized that their painting is more ’advanced’ than his.

The gap is so obvious.

The assistant said he and Detective Cat’s work are neck and neck, but to Professor Boggs, it sounded like an insult.

”What a pity, it’s still too careless, painting without really thinking it through, entirely relying on talent to beat others.”

”She could have done even better... if she came to me, if I could train her for a few years...”

Professor Boggs blew his beard, full of grief for her misfortune and anger for her failure to live up to expectation.