The Oxgodby Christ

The Oxgodby Christ

This was what pushed me through the book, a glimpse of the Oxgodby Christ, his attendants, all his minions that cowered before him. I wanted more of those colors reinvigorated with Birkin’s brush. This novel, for me, mattered so long as I saw this painting. I cared not for the people that pursued their mundane desires about it; I don’t even remember what happened to Tom Birkin and his merry gang. This was the painting that beckoned, and how furious it was. This was why I read on. [Continue reading.]