This picture pretty much sums up what I feel like today. This is St. Serapion. He was hung on an x-shaped cross ala St. Andrew and then dismembered by Moors. I feel like I'm him and my job is the Moors. I wonder if St. Serapion ever had a FedEx get jammed in the box and not delivered on time?
Zurbaran had a gift for white drapery. That's pretty much all I know about him, aside from the fact that I like him a lot - his work is grizzly yet elegant.
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