When we were kids, my mom enrolled my brother and I in a mini course that taught the art of dying Pysanky— Ukranian easter eggs. Two things: 1. We're not of Ukranian descent. 2. We were never raised with religion. But who cares? Pysanky is quite beautiful and the process by which it's created is interesting and involved.
Of course, we made the eggs when we were young and they're not refined like ones made by professional artisans, but there's still something redeeming about them.
On another note, I'm kind of obsessed with the architectural quality of clean, blown ostrich eggs. If you didn't know better, you might think they're porcelain. Currently contemplating amassing a ton for a little vignette or something. We'll see.