"One evening [Feb. 1888] Vincent said to me, "I'm leaving tomorrow; let's arrange the atelier in such a way that my brother Theo will feel that I'm still here." He nailed Japanese prints on the walls and put some canvases on easels, leaving others in piles. He rolled up some things for me that I untied; they were of Chinese paintings, one of his finds, rescued from the hands of a junk-shop owner who used them to wrap the merchandise he sold. After this he announced that he was leaving for the Midi, for Arles, and that he hoped I would join him. "For," he said, "the Midi is now where the atelier of the future must be established." I accompanied him as far down as the avenue de Clichy.. .I clasped his hands; and it was over forever. I will never see him again, I will never be so close to him again, except when we are joined by death."