Demetri's sleep had been terrible lately, for no good reason. He wasn't thinking about anything but felt a need to roll his eyes and sigh at intervals. It wasn't unusual, but it was irritating when there was a to-do the next night he needed to prepare for. He pretended his ennui was artistic inspiration.
It must have been his hubris to dare try to copy the great Red period painting 'the Transformation of Worshiper Cedric.' It wasn't that it was a holy image, it was just a fantastic painting. The only things he cared about from the Godchurch came from art, and seemed incidental.
He rifled through old art history books to find a new image to copy. Even after hundreds of years of practice, he still considered himself a hobbyist. That didn't stop him though, the novelty of these synthesized linseed oils and plastic-y resins were enough for the moment.