Tragically, this was unfinished. I think it was because if we could see the glory of Heaven we would go blind, and the artist was sparing our vision. Or, possibly, because it’s rude to paint the Virgin Mary with an ass so big it’s got latitude and longitude lines. And she’s already…well, a little gourd-shaped.
Maybe I should have saved this for Christmas? She’s looking a little bit 38th trimester. Or possibly just expecting a miracle, if that miracle were both “birth of the savior…” and “…and the savior is a hippity-hop.”
I was a little sad that you couldn’t tip the Madonna over like a Weeble. That would have made my day. I would have done that for hours, or at least until the employees told me the giggling was scaring the customers.
Though the real question of the day is, what’s going on with her hands? Is she wearing a pair of fuzzy-wuzzy mittens? A potato wearing bell-bottoms? Or did she just dunk her hands in chocolate, for reasons that shall remain ineffed?
Potato with bell-bottoms, definitely. I’ll look it up in “Saints Preserve Us,” she’s probably the patroness of vegetables in pants.
Savers on Burnet and North Loop, Austin