Oh give me a break. That Michelangelo guy couldn’t draw his way out of a marble statuary quarry, I must say. Which, when you think about it, would be a rather daunting feat. I’m reminded of a story my Great Aunt Nonie used to recount, involving statues, drawing, and Michelangelo, although it may actually have been about a minister, a priest, and an altercation of crows. Memory is such a fleeting thing, particularly when it comes to remembering things.