Saturday, October 19, 2013

Number 19

Called "The Agony of St. Agnes."   One of my Catholic saints series ...

 This from Wikipedia ...


Agnes, whose name means “chaste” in Greek, was a beautiful young girl of wealthy family and therefore had many suitors of high rank. Details of her story are unreliable, but legend holds that the young men, slighted by Agnes' resolute devotion to religious purity, submitted her name to the authorities as a follower of Christianity.[3]
The Prefect Sempronius condemned her to be dragged naked through the streets to a brothel. Various versions of the legend give different methods of escape from this predicament. In one, as she prayed, her hair grew and covered her body.[4] It was also said that all of the men who attempted to rape her were immediately struck blind. In another the son of the prefect is struck dead, but revived after Agnes prayed for him, causing her release. There is then a trial from which Sempronius excuses himself, and another figure presides, sentencing her to death. When led out to die she was tied to a stake, but the bundle of wood would not burn, or the flames parted away from her, whereupon the officer in charge of the troops drew his sword and beheaded her, or, in some other texts, stabbed her in the throat. It is also said that the blood of Agnes poured to the stadium floor where other Christians soaked up the blood with cloths.

Wow.  If I'd been around I'd have painted the Annotated Sempronius.  What a jerk.  Anyway, the painting itself is not that great.  I particularly dislike her chest and the muddiness of the paint as it descends toward her stomach.  But the face!

Man, this was one of those moments when I said to myself, "Dude, you really can paint."  And I don't know what to say about the two-sided border reading "ogodogodogod..."

I don't think you have to say anything.
Okay.  Thanks.
You're welcome.
I'm reminded about that lyric in Stuck inside of Mobile...
Which one?
The one about the railroad men drinking up your blood like wine.
That's a great line.  Very evocative.
Yes it is.
I don't know about you but I've only met one railroad man, excluding Amtrak employees.
Really?
Yeah.  Very unpleasant.  He smoked my eyelids and punched my cigarette.
Odd.
I thought so.
One would have expected it to be the other way around.
One would.  

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