Chapter 637 - 292: Facing the Soul (2)

Amy softly meowed.

"Meow." Tony also softly meowed.

It was as if they had completed their final farewell.

Amy retracted her tongue, her tail gently placed beside her, no longer moving.

In the camera lens.

The doctor’s final act of taking away the cat cradle was very careful and gentle, creating a scene so heavy and solemn it was hard to hold one’s breath.

Everyone who witnessed such a scene felt as though a large stone was pressing down on their hearts.

They presumably should be accustomed to the separation of pet owners and their beloved animals.

The fees at the pet hospital were expensive, and clients who came here treated their pets almost like official family members.

The dog and cat parents crying as if they lost a biological child, the doctor encounters one or two such cases every month.

But in that fleeting moment just now.

They genuinely hallucinated that a soul brimming with human-like emotions was attached to the body of the folded ear cat in the cradle.

It wasn’t a cat saying goodbye to its owner, but more like a mother bidding farewell to her child. Their emotional connection was incomprehensibly strong.

Tony just sat quietly on a chair to the side.

Jean Arnou held his son’s hand.

Tony sat silently, neither raucous nor tearful, with a gaze withdrawn from any spirit.

It seemed as though not only was he parting with Amy, but also with a portion of his soul.

Gu Weijing closed the iPad screen, slowly exhaling, trying to release the oppressive feeling from his chest and abdomen through his throat.

The video entitled "The Ritual of Love" before him was far heavier than the imagined process of a pet’s death.

Sadness, like a tangible fog, permeated around Gu Weijing.

For Gu Weijing, this sadness was merely a floated discomfort stemming from empathic compassion, yet for Tony, the autistic patient, this fog solidified into a curtain that isolated his heart from the world for the next twenty years.

The barriers of the mind are harder to surmount than the ramparts forged from molten iron.

Gu Weijing sat in the corner of the art studio.

He quietly pondered.

Trying to find a breakthrough in this barrier wide enough for a psychologist to pass through. The penetration of the illustration needed to reach an unprecedented degree.

But Gu Weijing was unsure if it was suitable to include the illustration based on this photograph in his collection of selected illustrations.

The transmission strength of such sad emotions might be sufficient.

But is reliving such a regrettable moment a good thing for Tony?

Gu Weijing was struggling to gauge the balance.

"I have a question and seek your advice. Facing unbearable painful memories — is avoidance the wiser choice?"

He pondered for about fifteen minutes.

Gu Weijing decided to seek counsel from someone wiser in his eyes.

He selected the video and sent it along with his drawing idea to Mr. Tree Sloth, seeking his opinion.

"How should I draw?"

After a while, Mr. Tree Sloth sent back three sentences on the phone.

"One of the most famous psychologists in history, Carl Jung, said that avoidance is a protective human instinct; recalling painful memories can destroy us from the inside out, thus people exhaust various absurd reasons to avoid confronting their soul, this self-protection mechanism is commonly used by psychologists to comfort those who are depressed due to losing their spouse or father."

A few seconds later, the content refreshed.

"However, Jung also said — only those who face their soul will awaken."

"Lady Detective Cat, I have a good idea."

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Even though he had come to the artist’s studio many times these past few days.

The assistant was still shocked by the magnificent scene when he opened the door.

Long before Lady Anya’s flight, co-founder of Zaohe Space Art Gallery, landed at Auckland International Airport in New Zealand.

A dedicated guest room in Jean Arnou’s Jade Lake Ranch had already been cleared out and converted into a studio at the artist’s request.

Bed, table, TV cabinet, vase, coffee table...

All furniture and furnishings were moved out.

The fireplace was cleaned and boarded up.

The walls were covered in a layer of white wallpaper, the sofa pushed to a corner, even the thick cashmere carpet was rolled up and replaced with plain mats.

The originally warm and cozy guest room turned into a pure white room with a science-fiction spaceship vibe or, less favorably, like a stark morgue boardroom after the wallpaper crew left.

The ranch servants were puzzled, wanting to know the purpose of this toss-up requirement.

This is Jean Arnou’s home.

Of course, there was a professional studio belonging to the illustration master in the ranch, with all necessary drawing tools available.

Modern, ancient, from electronic tablets to printmaking tools, and various types of fill lights.

The property here may not be as valuable as those culturally significant studio landmarks in Southern France Provençal, used or visited by Picasso, Cézanne, and Manet.

But the facilities were certainly top-notch worldwide.

Why not work directly there?

Creating a new studio, isn’t that simply causing trouble for no reason?

To the bewilderment of these outsiders, the assistant laughed disdainfully, showing contempt for the unknowledgeable bumpkins.

The assistant served as a professional caretaker for artists.

His professionalism lay in the fact that even though he didn’t understand, he never bothered to inquire.

The first thing the assistant understood when he entered the field was that trying to comprehend the whims and thoughts of great artists is the most pointless endeavor in the world.

Do not waste life attempting to study their whimsical minds.

It’s never something that ordinary people can understand.

Andy Warhol had a habit of collecting everyday items; everything from used cans, read newspapers, used napkins, and even hotel pillowcases were sorted and stored in boxes by professionals. By the time he died, these hundreds of boxes had filled an entire warehouse.

Beethoven liked to put a large tub in the living room, soaking in it while playing with water and contemplating symphonies. But this pales in comparison to Schiller, who had to smell rotten apples in order to burst with inspiration to create.

When friend Goethe visited his home, he was almost nauseated by the smell of rotten fruit.

Among great painters, Uncle Sakai, who enjoyed creating while chewing donuts and grilled chicken breasts, really counted as super obedient and normal.

Similar to how Hamburg Academy rebuilt an entire Jiangnan Garden by the lakes of Germany, spending millions of Euros on labor and design costs not counting faculty and student efforts just to make Mr. Cao Xuan comfortable—also considered standard practice.

Art has always been an extremely abstract product.

This circle never looks at meaning, only at the artist’s social status and the value embodied in their name, whether it can mobilize sufficient resources.

The greater the artist, the fewer unmet needs in the world.

If you were at Hirst’s level, whether you wish to dine at 10 Downing Street or at the International Space Station, as long as you make the request, there is a way to spend time fulfilling it.

Nowadays, aside from wealthy tycoons, commercial space travel most piques the interest of the prominent artist community.

Assistants, galleries, and agents are containers that support the blossoming of the artist’s flowers of inspiration.

Anya is also considered a moderately high-level artist.

Plus, she flew to New Zealand specifically at Jean Arnou’s invitation, requesting a pure white studio didn’t seem excessive.

He simply needed to be a good container for it.

If Jean Arnou doesn’t oppose it, even if someone requests tearing down the house, the assistant would silently summon a construction team to study the blueprints.

After Lady Anya began working these past few days.

He suddenly realized that wanting a pure white studio wasn’t Anya’s eccentric penchant for creation.

A co-founder of a gallery inclined towards modern art style indeed possessed distinctive special creativity.

Their intention was to unleash a grand surprise!