An artist needs the kind of feeling that hits them when they suddenly hear a phrase.
Therefore,
Anna just simply read books.
She took out the copy of "The Little Prince" that grew up with her from the drawer and had the butler fetch a computer, a sound card, and a wireless network card, and went up to the watchtower she often visited in her childhood.
As she watched the sunset fall towards the distant valley, she set a time and connected with an illustrator far away in Africa, who softly read out to her those classic passages that once left a deep impression on her.
...
Screech—
Gu Weijing tore off a page from his sketchbook, shaking his head in disappointment.
In his ear was the calm and unhurried voice of Mr. Tree Sloth. He held a brush in his hand, with various crumpled drafts scattered in front of him.
Mr. Tree Sloth seemed to take this "literary tutoring" very seriously, having been reading to him non-stop for almost two hours.
