A few writers, such as Homer, Shakespeare, Goethe, Balzac, Tolstoy, etc., can be discovered by anyone at any age and in any life era. The vast majority of writers who remain can only show their full meaning at a certain moment.

I obviously do not belong to the former, and I don’t seem to be the latter. In fact, I am just a somewhat famous Austrian painter and not good at writing.

Compared to obscure and difficult words that need to be chewed repeatedly, pictures with changing colors and structures have better visual impact. However, when facing complex characters, one or several portraits with only pictures cannot outline their complete life, at least I do not have such skills.

Kawei is different from me, and his life is extremely busy. Until the night before he left without saying goodbye, he did not leave me a refreshing and energetic portrait.

It’s not that I refuse to draw, I asked for it very early, but unfortunately he is not the kind of idle person who can sit in meditation for more than ten minutes. And my proud sketch is just a slow graffiti in his eyes, which is no different from the random paintings made by a boy on the street.

So over time, I forgot.

The only thing he can do now is his student photos and work photos. There is no part below his neck, no color, and his expression is extremely single, which seems too rigid to me.

It is obviously not enough to commemorate a great medical scientist, bioengineer, philanthropist and educator with these things that are hard to even be called works. I am willing to give up on the painting board, mention the pen that I haven't used for a long time, and talk about the interesting stories of this old friend's life.

In fact, when autobiography is flying all over the sky, anyone can publish a book to talk about his seemingly exciting but actually boring life, I have always suggested that Kawei could write a so-called "Autobiography" by himself. After all, no matter how clever the artistic processing is, it can only add excitement, and ultimately lacks the authenticity of the self-perspective perspective.

But he refused, because he never felt that he was very important in his cognition.

Kawei always believed that the times made him. If you want to write a good autobiography, you must write this era well. This is equivalent to presenting every detail of the era on paper. He does not have that confidence.

I agree with this point of view, and to be honest, I agree with this point of view the night before he left without saying goodbye.

"Let's go to the hell!"

I agreed, but now it seems that I am wrong and need to change my mind.

My writing is scarce, so scarce that I may not be able to tell a good story. Even among the ranks of non-writers, they are far inferior to Kawei. But as he said, it was the times that made him, and the times themselves have provided a large number of pictures. All I need to do is add corresponding commentary under the pictures.

And speaking with pictures is exactly my strength.

Of course, as an obsessive-compulsive patient who pursues perfectionism, I have extremely strict requirements on every work.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not the kind of super painter who can easily face works as the public imagines, nor is it the kind of writer who can manipulate words at will. On the contrary, I am a person who is as entangled and twisted as the "most" of you.

In the foreseeable future, writing will definitely make me extremely painful, just like when I was working hard to paint. Revising and revising, and finally tearing off the fine works in the eyes of others has become the norm in my life. I don’t know if I will do some stupid things, after all, there are too many drawings that have been ruined in my hands.

Well, I will try my best to restrain my impulsive emotions as Kawei taught me and try to finish the book.

At the end, we still have to set a tone for the whole text.

If one day a reader saw the following words, perhaps out of my blind vanity or purely accidental, I did not destroy them.

Then he must first know that the reason why I started to tell the story of Professor Kavi Friedrich Hines was not to simply recall these past events, but to hope that more people could know him well and understand him.

Kavi is not a saint, and he is never perfect. He is even as dangerous as a good person. It is even harder to mention the identity of a famous doctor who cares about all the patients. However, he is great enough for the long-term development of the whole world.

Even those hypocrites who stood on the moral high ground and slammed him fiercely, their words could not erase Kawei's outstanding contributions in medicine and science...
Chapter completed!