Misc. Stuff, Including More Barbies I Can Get Behind

I had some minor computer troubles lately that made using Blogger a pain, but here's some fun stuff I would have otherwise posted this past week.

***
I've seen altered dolls before, but I didn't realize the extent of this little subculture/hobby/craft. I was browsing the pattern catalogues in Wal-Mart last week, looking for a particular style of dress, and came across Simplicity number 4696, a Barbie--sorry, 11 1/2 inch fashion doll--"Extreme Doll Makeover". Actually it's patterns for a couple of outfits with instructions for modifications that may or may not be extreme. That very night, while looking for something else, I happened to come across the delightfully-named website of the woman who made the two dolls pictured on Simplicity #4696. Her Doll Gallery is fantastic; the Valkyrie section is my favorite, although there are great-looking dolls in every section and I particularly like the Chicks in Chain Mail doll. (Chicks in Chain Mail is a series of light-hearted fantasy stories, edited by Esther Freisner and featuring, as you might guess, chicks in chain mail. I've not read all the books, but I enjoyed what I read.) The dolls' weapons are made by the dollmaker's husband, a knifemaker; I like all the weapons, but the Barbie-sized battle ax made me ooh and aww more than anything. For people who want to alter their own dolls, Valkyrie has a lot of tips.

To see more people's altered dolls, search Dogpile or EBay for the terms FDMAA or OOAK. In addition to altered 11 1/2 inch fashion dolls, you'll also find "reborn" baby dolls and others.

***
I enjoy Maclin Horton's posts on the Caelum et Terra blog, but the most interesting post of his this past week was his link to what he calls "the definitive judgement on Harry Potter." I could find some things to quibble with in the post he links to, but it is pretty close to what he says it is.

I believe the Regina Doman who wrote that judgement on HP is the same Regina Doman or Schmiedicke who wrote an article on liturgical dressing in Domestic-Church. I'm not interested in dressing according to the liturgical colors for the simple reason that I don't look good in any of those colors except green (and not the shade of green usually seen in priest's vestments either), but I'm fascinated by her account of the Mary Dress and the Mary Jumper because I prefer simplicity of dress and am interested in pattern-free clothes. I just wish she'd posted photos of her wearing samples of each.

***
The current Foamy has Germaine making her own clothes because all the clothing in the local stores is "slutwear for teens". A recent episode had her complaining that she couldn't find a pair of pants without something written across the butt. Now if it were Jerry Falwell complaining that would be one thing. And if it were a non-prudish but decidedly grumpy person such as myself complaining--and I assure you I have been doing so the past couple of years--that would be another thing. But when a Gothy, bitch-hermit wannabe, tank-top-wearer like Germaine is fed up with how revealing fashions are, things have officially gone too far.

I think the tide is turning, albeit slowly. I'm seeing more knee-length skirts, and hear talk of the "sexy librarian" look (a big step up from the cheap whore look), gypsy skirts, and prairie dresses. Also I think the minor fad-let of girls wearing revealing slip-dresses over jeans comes from a (possibly unconscious) desire for more modesty; it reminds me of Wendy Shalit talking about women wearing split skirts who, when a breeze comes by, instinctively try to close the slit.

(I don't remember where I read that bit from Shalit, but she has several things available online. Click here for the first chapter of her book and here for a speech she gave.)

***
I've seen many hummingbirds, but I have never seen a hummingbird nest. Here's a story-in-photos of a hummingbird nest and its occupants. Even if you're grossed out by baby birds and glossy, full-color, photographic depictions of bird shit, keep going till the end--the size comparison is amazing. (Link via The Anchoress.)

***
Here's a pattern I want to try: Dolly Hugs. It's a small cloth doll that is made so that its arms will drape around a child's neck as if it were hugging the child. Yeah, yeah, it sounds nauseating, but the doll looks cute and the pattern is incredibly simple. The pattern is free, provided it's used for non-commercial, preferably charitable purposes. That's the other part I like--the pattern was created with troubled children in mind.

"Sometimes Even Good Men Go Away"

Mudville Gazette has songs written by American soldiers. Chesterton talked about modern people not singing but listening to one man sing, for the inadequate reason that he does it better, when we should all sing and write our own songs, etc. That is true folk art--art by ordinary folks. I think Chesterton would approve of these men's efforts, just as I think he would approve of filk.

Team America (/England/Catholic) Song, Bound to Offend Someone

Stuttaford in the Corner linked to the following 7/7/05 tribute to England: For Our British Friends. Do not click on it if you are offended by a certain versatile four-letter word that is often thought to be Anglo-Saxon, but is actually a Dutch borrowing; in fact, you should skip this post. The tribute is the Team America song, with "England" replacing "America". So, sing with me:

Benny Hill--**** Yeah!

Maggie Thatcher--**** Yeah!

James Bond--**** Yeah!

Dead parrots pining for the fjords--**** Yeah!

Longbows--**** Yeah!

Cheerfully adopting words from other languages, so English bears the postmark of every place we've ever visited--**** Yeah!

Fish and chips---**** Yeah!

Churchill--**** Yeah!

Well, you get the idea. Though longbows--at least those really great ones at Agincourt--were Welch, and the best James Bond was played by a Scotsman. I figure the whole UK counts.

I told Uncle Pookie about this, and happened to mention "weird hats".

Uncle Pookie: We need to make one for the Vatican.
Me: [pause] SWISS GUARDS!
U.P.: **** Yeah! Bulletproof Pope-mobile! **** Yeah! Moral authority over billions of people! **** Yeah! Tall hats! **** Yeah!...Apostolic succession! **** Yeah!

Our Lady of Prompt Succor, Pray for Us

Thanks to our move last year, I live pretty close to the Gulf Coast. We seem pretty safe here--from this one, anyway--but whenever a hurricane might hit anywhere near New Orleans, I think of Our Lady of Prompt Succor. Protection from hurricanes may not be what she is famous for, but I suspect she's been prayed to many times when hurricanes were imminent. Possibly even by some of the same people who have hurricane parties in boarded-up bars in the French Quarter while waiting for the hurricane. :-)

I'm Starting to Suspect I Have No Life

In the tradition of James Lilek's Gallery of Regrettable Food, it's Threadbared.Com. Great old sewing pattern envelopes (also knitting, crochet, and macrame pics) and plenty of snarkiness. Viewing is especially recommended for when you're feeling snarky. Very funny. Although I could have lived just fine without their informing me of the existence of butt bras.

We Band of Brothers (and Sisters)

I am pleased to see that England is handling yesterday's terrorist attacks on London civilians so well. I often fear that the Anglosphere is losing its collective backbone, but it looks as if England, at least, is still made of stronger stuff than Spain.

As for the terrorists, I am, as a Catholic, compelled to pray for the souls of my enemies, and I do frequently pray for a conversion of heart for all terrorists. But I hope that meanwhile they are all brought to swift justice. It does me no credit to say so, but I'll confess I don't particularly care if the justice they meet is tempered with mercy or not; we women can be bloodthirsty when it comes to the protection and defence of our own.

Art Attacks

No, not When Art Attacks, but Art Attacks, a British arts & crafts program for children. I've never seen it, but its website has a lot of fun projects available. They're meant for children, but many of them would be just as much fun for adults. Check it out:

http://www.hitentertainment.com/artattack/menu_artattacks.html

Ma'am/Sir and Mr./Mrs./Miss/Miz

In The Corner today Rod Dreher linked to a Dallas News article on the decline of ma'am and sir and there was some talk about that and Mr./Mrs./Miss. I've commented on honorifics before, but here's a few more comments.

Like Dreher, I grew up being taught to say ma-am and sir. I'm not extremely attached to the terms (a polite yes or no has never bothered me), but I do favor their general use by children and their being used by nearly everyone when talking to the very elderly (other elderly people excepted.) The terms may be in decline even here in the South, but they haven't died out all together. And I'll admit that I always think more favorably of people who use those terms; when I hear those terms coming easily to the lips of someone my age, I know that person was "raised right".

Also like Dreher--probably because he was brought up in Louisiana and I in Mississippi--I was brought up calling most adults by their first name plus Mr. or Miss. (Incidentally, we pronounced Miss in those circumstances more like Ms., possibly because of its being used for both married and unmarried women.) Some adults--for example, schoolteachers--we called by their last name plus honorific. We never called adults by their first name. Back then I would have been shocked to hear a fellow child call an adult by his first name, and I do not like to hear it even now.

The first name plus honorific custom is still alive, by the way. Possibly more so than the ma'am/sir thing. I hope it doesn't decline further, because I think preserving distinction between adults and children is a good idea. Even if adults are all pretending to be chums by insisting on first names, children aren't adults and having children use honorifics for adults helps foster respect of authority.

It may be silly, but it recently occurred to me I would really like for someone--anyone--to call me Mrs. F----. Just once. I've been married ten and a half years and I don't think anyone has ever called me Mrs. Married Name. I've received a few letters addressed to Mrs. Suzanne --- and the diocesan newspaper is addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Uncle Pookie, but no one has ever called me Mrs. Pookie. Being called Miss Suzanne by politely brought up children, while nice, isn't quite the same, as I've been called that since at least the age of seventeen. Being called by my first name only is definitely not the same. It's a small thing, but it would be nice to hear. I'm an old married woman myself, but I suspect there may be a few brides out there who, deprived of ever hearing it in our first-name-only society, might like to be called Mrs. New Last Name.

The funny thing about my wanting to be called Mrs. ---- is that I actually had to think for a while before I decided to take my husband's last name. I always knew I would never want to marry, then I did decide to marry but had to think about whether to take his name or not, now I just wish someone would actually call me Mrs. Life's a funny old thing.

Japan v. Contemporary America

Azrael, of "I am a Japanese School Teacher", has a newish post that compares how the death of one of his students was handled by the Japanese school to how the death of one of his classmates in his own US (Californian, I think) school was handled. Guess which approach works better, A.) disrupting normal routine, encouraging students to emote about their trauma, and bringing in grief counselors, or B.) having a brief talk about it, then expecting everyone to soldier on.

Speaking of Japan, Rich Lowry's recent cover article--I think it was "Unleash Japan!"--in National Review is really interesting and worth reading.

Misc. Fun Stuff Online

I have said on these pages in the past that Barbie is not a nice girl. I take it back. Here's a Barbie I can cheer for.
***

Viking Kittens. This is an oldie, but still a cutie. It disappeared from its site of origin for a long time (possibly because its creator apparently doesn't know cute from the hole in the ground that is some of the things he replaced it with), but Ace of Spades recently posted a new (to me) address for it.

***

This guy may be a little too fond of pregnant animals; then again maybe it's just that English is not his first language and he doesn't realize he sounds a bit odd. Either way, there's a lot of pictures of pregnant animals. I couldn't look at them all, but here's my favorites:

A proud pregnant lady (dog variety).

A not-so-ladylike pregnant dog.

Ever seen a pregnant meerkat?

A number of pictures of the big cats were notable for the casualness with which big-bellied pregnant cats loll about on tree limbs. I want to tell them to get down from there, to think of the kits for heaven's sake.

I don't know if egg-bearing creatures are considered pregnant before they lay, but one of Stephen Jay Gould's books had an amazing x-ray picture of a dodo-like bird that's egg makes up about 40% of its mass by the time its mature. That's an "it could be worse" type comment you could run by the nearest pregnant woman. (Note: I take no responsibility for harm to your person incurred by following my suggestions.)

(Hat tip to BoingBoing)

***
Ever get the feeling you're being watched?

Of Interest to Dickens Fans

In addition to live digital feed, BBC7 keeps the last six days of its programming available free of charge online. Sunday they aired Miriam Margolyes' one-woman show, Dickens' Women, in which she talks about Dickens' life and acts out scenes from his novels. Very entertaining. It should be available until the end of the week.

Book Meme

Banshee at the Aliens in This World blog (good if you are Catholic and like anime) tagged everyone with the book meme. So here's my responses.

1. Total number of books I've owned. Hard to say, as I've been culling regularly ever since I was 11 or 12 and realized I'd have no space for new books unless I got rid of my Nancy Drews and kiddie books. Then when we moved here last year, I had to go beyond my usual culls and cut 'til it hurt. So I probably own about 200 now, but have owned two, maybe three thousand.

2. Last book I bought. An Introduction to English Poetry, by James Fenton. (Two dollars for pristine secondhand!) It just came in the mail yesterday. I opened the package right before bed, opened the book just to glance at the first page, and had read three chapters before I forced myself to stop. Writing about poetry is usually dry, so I'm impressed with Mr. Fenton, that he can make me have to force myself to stop reading.

3. Last book I read. One of the Azu Manga Daioh mangas. (FWIW I recommend watching the anime instead; the anime has cheerful music and Chiyo-chan's unbelievably enormous cuteness and Osaka's spaciness only fully come through in animation.) Other than graphic stuff, I went through a few craft books in the past few days--I hesitate to say I read craft books, I just sort of go through them. I can't remember the last novel or nonfiction book I read cover-to-cover. Possibly The Black Tower by P.D. James.

3.A. Books I'm currently reading. An Introduction to English Poetry, obviously. The Proud Tower by Barbara Tuchman and Whose Body? by Dorothy L. Sayers. I have a few things by the bed that I dip into periodically--several poetry anthologies, a collection of Fulton Sheen's essays, and The Imitation of Christ. But I go at those in such fits and starts, I don't really think of myself as reading them.

4. Five books that mean a lot to me. I hate this kind of question. But here's five that mean a lot, not necessarily mean the most.

1. Little Women, because it was the first novel I fell in love with. I talked about this in a previous post.

2. Heretics, by G. K. Chesterton. It was the first book I read by Chesterton, and thus my introduction--other than a Father Brown story or two--to that delightful mind. I think people undervalue Heretics because Orthodoxy overshadows it.

3. Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett. That was the first novel I read by Pratchett. And when I'd read it I actually got angry at my husband because he'd had it sitting on his bookshelves for years and had never told me how funny it was. We now have nearly every Discworld novel, but I still recommend most Pratchett newbies start with Witches Abroad. (I may give a different recommendation if I know something more about the person's reading tastes.)

Pratchett, incidentally, said in an interview in Weird Tales that he's a fan of Chesterton. Because Pratchett lived in Chesterton's town as a boy, there were a lot of Chesterton's books about, and he read them because they were there. (I understand that; I read whatever was there as a child.) He said that there's no better training for a fantasy writer, because Chesterton teaches a person to turn things upside down or sideways and see them anew.

4. The Great Divorce, by C. S. Lewis. I read this during my conversion. After I read it, I believed in hell. Before, the idea would have seemed preposterous, but Lewis described hell in terms that I could understand. Fully.

5. On questions like this it's usually considered bad form to name either the Bible or Shakespeare's Complete Works. I don't see why I can't name a play though, and it's Much Ado About Nothing. That was the first Shakespeare play I fell in love with. I'd already read Romeo and Juliet, and I won't dispute that R&J is better, but R&J didn't start my lifelong love of Shakespeare. MAAN did.

When I was, I believe, thirteen, I happened to turn on PBS one night and they were showing MAAN. I think it was the complete works Shakespeare Plays series that BBC did in the late 70s through the early 80s; some of the productions were bad, but I greatly enjoyed what I saw that night. Before I went to bed I got out the old, limp red-covered, two-columns-to-the-page, garage sale Complete Works I had and read MAAN straight through. I knew I was on to something.

In addition to starting a long-term literary love affair, MAAN probably created--it certainly nurtured--my preference for the bickering couple of fiction, rather than the starry-eyed romantics. I tend to trust the bickering couples over the romantics in life as well.


Like Banshee, I tag everyone.

Not Enough Babes in the Woods

Yesterday I read a fascinating Newsweek article on some of the less well-known consequences of Europe's de-population:

http://msnbc.msn.com/id/8359066/site/newsweek/

The unexpected (by me, anyway) consequences include reforestation, the return of wolves, a decrease in biodiversity (as farmland becomes forest, there is an initial, generations-long decrease in biodiversity as meadow flora and fauna are lost), and sewer problems.

A Sewing Tip You Won't Hear From Sandra Bettzina

Wear shoes in your sewing room. Especially if it's carpeted. No matter how obsessively careful you are about keeping up with pins, some of the little things find their way into the carpet, where they lie in wait for bare feet. My head must be harder than my feet, because I had to pull more than one pin from my sole before I finally learned.

Tony Soprano vs. the New Age Guy

The recent news about French men supposedly wanting to be pregnant, should the technology become available (at least some Europeans want to have babies), and a fluff piece about macho men being out and vain metrosexuals being in (which I don't believe) that got a lot of comments online have had me thinking fondly of Tony Soprano this week. Especially that episode with the wandering bear where Tony feels bad because he's afraid he can't properly protect his wife now they're separated; it ends with a great scene of him sitting in the back yard with a shotgun, waiting and watching in case the bear should come back. Sure, Tony is a bad man, but at least he's masculine. I think most women would rather have a man who cares about protecting his wife and home than one whose biggest worry is whether he gets equal mirror time in the bathroom.

Much Ado About a Handkerchief

As best I remember, I haven't read Othello since I was a teenager, but over the past few weeks I've watched two movie versions and listened to an audio version several times. (I like to listen to audio books as I do housework or sew.) The movies were the 1995 Othello, starring Laurence Fishburne and Kenneth Branagh, and Orson Welles' 1950s version. I didn't watch the 1995 one back in the '90s because I hadn't seen a trailer and feared it would be a mishmash of political correctness; to my pleasure, it wasn't . The script seemed to be trimmed pretty close to the bone, but it made a good movie, and the actors, scenery, and costumes were good. I especially liked Branagh's performance as Iago. Orson Welles' version, which was extensively restored in the '90s, is very interesting visually; it looks and sounds something like a horror film--not inappropriate considering what happens in the story is rather horrific.

Some random thoughts about the movies and the play itself:

* Some years ago I tried to watch Laurence Olivier's Othello, but I couldn't get past his blackface. Orson Welles looks boyish at times, but his blackface is much better than Olivier's.

* I don't know if it's a good idea to cast a handsome man like Laurence Fishburne as Othello. His appearance contributes to the erotic appeal of the DVD cover, but it makes all those "why would she choose him" comments hard to understand. Of course, I'm looking at this with 21st century American eyes, not the eyes of an early 17th century English audience, most of whom had likely never seen a black man; perhaps any black man would look odd to them. Still I think I would have chosen a man who's a bit older and less attractive than Fishburne to emphasize the differences between Othello and Desdemona.

* Branagh's Iago is somewhat more convincing that that of MacLiammoir in Welles' film. I can't fault the latter's acting; it's just that it's easier to imagine Othello--or anyone else--trusting the good-looking Branagh than the slimy, devious-looking Wellesian Iago.

* Iago's speeches are textbook studies of how to convince someone of malicious slanders: act very reluctant to cast aspersions, hint more than you say, suggest there may be nothing in it, etc. The same things that worked in Shakespeare's day work today.

* It is hard to like Othello, because jealousy is so unattractive. Still, I think Othello may be, by nature, no more jealous than the average person. His real fault seems to be that he is too willing to trust what others say. Iago says as much when he's planning his revenge. The hell of this is that, once his jealousy is aroused, his trusting nature doesn't extend to trusting Desdemona.

* Some people suggest Othello and Desdemona never consummated their marriage, because of the short time they had together on their wedding night, Iago's later comment that O hadn't yet made sport with D, and D asking Emilia to put her wedding sheets on the bed the night she was murdered (the usual rationale given is "who'd want to put the wedding sheets--presumably blood-stained--back on the bed?"). Both of these movies assume the marriage was consummated. I certainly hope so. The story is too terrible as it is, without thinking they never got to enjoy the physical side of their marriage before it was destroyed.

* Does no one just die in this play, or do they all keep talking after you think they're dead?

* I like the way Othello, before he murders her, tells D that if she can remember any sins she's never repented of, to pray forgiveness of them now, because he doesn't want to kill her soul. In this story it makes the murder all the more poignant to know how much he loves her and doesn't want to kill her, but I like the worldview that allows people (okay, fictional characters) to think of this when they have time before they kill. You used to see it in some older stories or movies. For example in The Cowboys, where even the bad guys allow Roscoe Lee Brown's character to make his peace with God before they string him up. (OTOH, one of them had earlier shot John Wayne in the back. It's a situational thing.) No one in movies does this any more, probably because we're more brutal and because the audience is less likely to understand the gesture.

* This is a very single-minded plot. The military thing is quickly resolved with no trouble to anyone, by an act of God. Who cares what happens to Cassio, except as it impacts O & D? The only other thing resembling a subplot is Iago's exploitation of Roderigo, and that never really amounts to much. Everything is driving toward making Othello jealous enough to punish Desdemona with death. It's very focused. But, now I think about it, is it really more focused than the other tragedies or does it just seem so because of the smallness of its outward action (everything hangs on one small handkerchief)? I'll have to think about this some more.

* Does Iago really think Othello cheated with Emilia? It sounds like mere excuse when he says it himself, but we later hear Emilia allude to Iago having accused her of that. (Also Iago's "It is a common thing" sounds like a slur on Emilia's virtue to me, but once again we're talking my 20th-century bred ears; it could just be a general insult.) The 1995 film suggests it is true, by having Branagh and Fishburne exchange significant looks when Iago says at the end "What you know, you know." I can't decide.

Nausea and Loathing in America

The news has been boring me lately, but the things reported still have the capacity to sicken me--and at the moment I don't mean the horrific crimes we hear about all too often, but the seemingly unending accumulation of small stupidities along the path to total wussification of Western society. How many more articles on things like schools eliminating the honor roll because someone who wasn't on it might collapse from deflated self esteem when seeing a list of high achievers (if the honor roll in government school might be said to represent high achievement) that didn't contain his own precious name will I be able to read before I snap and take to the woods. And I would have to take to the woods, because now that I'm Catholic I'm not supposed to take to the bell tower anymore. And do you know how horribly humid the woods in my part of the world are?

The only two articles in recent weeks that I've really enjoyed were the one about the 74-pound Labrador retriever who fought down a 120-pound, rampaging Pit bull to protect a stranger child (I'd link to it, but the Chicago Sun-Times no longer has the story up) and this one about an increase in Catholic hermits. I mostly enjoyed the latter one because (in addition to suggesting something is stirring, as the Anchoress suggests about the increase in the more usual kind of religious vocations) it provides me with an excuse for my coming withdrawal to the woods. "Religious hermit" probably sounds better on a resume than "crazed misanthrope".

Incidentally it's dogs like that Lab and that sweet African dog who rescued an abandoned baby a few weeks back that make me wonder why anyone would think it's an insult to be called a bitch.

Americans Teaching in Japan

If you're looking for a bit of Japanese culture (and the occasional reminder that non-Americans get their ideas about America from our exported TV, music videos, etc.), a young American man has a series of posts up about his experiences teaching English in Japan. Apparently things have changed somewhat since Bruce Feiler wrote Learning to Bow, his book about teaching English in Japan. Should I be glad that it isn't only we Americans whose pop culture is filth, who've defined deviancy down, etc.?

Batman Begins

Thomas Hibbs' review of Batman Begins in today's NRO is pretty much on the money. BB is the best live action superhero movie I've yet seen*; it has real character development and some interesting explorations of fear and justice as well as cool gadgets and good action scenes. Well worth a trip to the theater, even at evening movie prices.

*On the animated front, The Incredibles might be able to beat it, but the two movies are so different it's hard to compare.

Praying for Artists

Penn & Teller's attack on Mother Teresa was covered by a number of Catholic bloggers a couple of weeks back. What I didn't hear many people saying is that we should all be praying for Penn & Teller. Maybe I'm more sensitive to this than I should be, because I've long enjoyed P&T's work. Whatever the reason, though, I do think Catholics should be praying for them. If not because it's a shame for anyone to be lost to a materialistic worldview, then because they are talented performers who promote that worldview, encouraging others to think that way. And if not for that reason, then because Penn just became a father, and that little girl is going to grow up being taught that Mother Teresa and her nuns are "f***ing c***s".

Of course, it shouldn't stop at P&T. I've long thought that, considering the power of writers and artists (including visual artists, actors, musicians, filmmakers, etc.) to influence thought, Catholics should be praying for all of them. So far I've spent more time thinking I should do it, than actually doing it. Mea culpa.

Here's a non-denominational Christian group who make it their job to pray for people in Hollywood:
http://www.hollywoodprayernetwork.org/
I'm not much of a joiner myself, but it seems like an okay group; I'm glad to know there are people out there praying for people in the entertainment industry.

As for me, I am going to do my best to remember to pray for writers and artists more often. I owe so much of the richness in my experience to artists from the past--not just Catholics or those who lived in predominantly Catholic cultures, but others who sought Truth and Beauty in their work. I'm going to pray that more artists today seek Truth and express it in their work.

I hope there are saints praying for this too. During my conversion I was inspired and gladdened by PJPII's Letter to Artists--really, can you imagine Jerry Falwell writing that?--and right now I am imagining John Paul the Great in heaven praying for artists on earth. With Chesterton. Maybe Flannery O'Connor and Shakespeare are there too, praying with Michelangelo and Fra Angelico? Along with St. Luke and St. John, and untold numbers of others.