Johannes Vermeer Woman with a Pearl NecklaceJohannes Vermeer Saint PraxidisJohannes Vermeer Lady Standing at a VirginalJohannes Vermeer A Lady Writing a LetterUnknown Artist Wooded Landscape
Sparks crackled off his fur.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’d better warn people. You’re good at that.’
Clickaclickaclicka . . .
It was his leg. It was as though a half‑melted ice cube was soaking through his trousers. He tried to ignore it, but it had a definite unignorable quality.
He looked down.
‘ ‘Scuse me,’ said Gaspode.
Victor’s eyes focused. Then his eyes found themselves being dragged back to the screen, where a huge version of himself was kissing a huge version of Ginger.
There was another feeling of sticky coldness. He surfaced again.the only noise inside the Odium. Calliope had stopped playing and was staring up at the screen.Mouths hung open, and closed only to bite on handfuls of banged grains.Victor was dimly aware that he’d fought it. He’d tried to look away. Even now, a little voice in his own head was telling him that things were wrong, but he ignored it. Things were clearly right. He’d shared in the sighs as the heroine tried to preserve the old family mine in a Worlde Gonne Madde . . . He’d shuddered at the fighting in the war. He’d watched the ballroom scene in a romantic haze. He . . .. . . was aware of a cold sensation against
‘I can bite your leg if you like,’ said Gaspode.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Nicolas De Stael Agrigente 1953
Nicolas De Stael Agrigente 1953Rodney White Small ChangeRodney White Share a Random MomentUnknown Artist Woodland WalkUnknown Artist football
never used. All the wasted chances.
How lucky for me, he thought gloomily, that I happen to be alive at this time.
Ginger turned over in her sleep. At least her breathing was more regular now.
‘Come on,’ said Gaspode. ‘It’s not right, you being alone in a lady’s boodwah.’
‘I’m not alone,’ Victor said. ‘She’s with me.’
‘That’s the point,’ said Gaspode.
‘Woof,’ sort this out once and for all,’ he said.
‘No, we won’t,’ said Gaspode. ‘The reason being, tomorrow we’re goin’ to Ankh-Morpork, remember?’
‘We?’ said Victor. ‘Ginger and I are going. I didn’t know about you.’
‘Laddie goin’, too,’ said Gaspode. ‘I-’ Laddie added, loyally. ‘You know,’ said Victor, following the dogs down the stairs, ‘I’m beginning to feel there’s something wrong here. There’s something going on and I don’t know what it is. Why was she trying to get into the hill?’ ‘Prob’ly in league with dread Powers,’ said Gaspode. ‘The city and the hill and the old book and everything,’ said Victor, ignoring this. ‘It all makes sense if only I knew what was connecting it.’ He stepped out into the early evening, into the lights and noise of Holy Wood. ‘Tomorrow we’ll go up there in the daylight and
never used. All the wasted chances.
How lucky for me, he thought gloomily, that I happen to be alive at this time.
Ginger turned over in her sleep. At least her breathing was more regular now.
‘Come on,’ said Gaspode. ‘It’s not right, you being alone in a lady’s boodwah.’
‘I’m not alone,’ Victor said. ‘She’s with me.’
‘That’s the point,’ said Gaspode.
‘Woof,’ sort this out once and for all,’ he said.
‘No, we won’t,’ said Gaspode. ‘The reason being, tomorrow we’re goin’ to Ankh-Morpork, remember?’
‘We?’ said Victor. ‘Ginger and I are going. I didn’t know about you.’
‘Laddie goin’, too,’ said Gaspode. ‘I-’ Laddie added, loyally. ‘You know,’ said Victor, following the dogs down the stairs, ‘I’m beginning to feel there’s something wrong here. There’s something going on and I don’t know what it is. Why was she trying to get into the hill?’ ‘Prob’ly in league with dread Powers,’ said Gaspode. ‘The city and the hill and the old book and everything,’ said Victor, ignoring this. ‘It all makes sense if only I knew what was connecting it.’ He stepped out into the early evening, into the lights and noise of Holy Wood. ‘Tomorrow we’ll go up there in the daylight and
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Henri Matisse Blue Nude II
Henri Matisse Blue Nude IIRobert Duval Emotional DanceSteve Thoms Field of Red and GoldPedro Alvarez Tango ArgentinoCassius Marcellus Coolidge A Bold Bluff
understand a word of it, but I know good dialogue when I hear it.’
‘Parrots,’ said the handleman flatly. ‘Your common Howondaland Green. Amazing bird. Memory like an elephant. Get a couple of dozen in different sizes and you’ve got a full vocal-’
That at you, you Foul Black Guard," ‘ said Rock. ‘And then you caught him a right ding on the arm, cut a hole in the tent–’
‘Good sword work, though,’ said Morry appraisingly. ‘A bit showy, but pretty good.’
‘But I don’t know how to-’ Victor began.
‘–and she was lying there all longgrass,’ said Rock. ‘An’ you swept her up, and she said-’
‘Long grass?’ said Ginger weakly. launched a detailed technical discussion. Victor let himself slide off the camel’s back and ducked under its neck to reach Ginger. ‘Listen,’ he said urgently. ‘It was just like last time. Only stronger. Like a sort of dream. The handleman started to take pictures and it was just like a dream.’ ‘Yes, but what did we actually do?’ she said. ‘What you did,’ said Rock, ‘was gallop the camel up to the tent, leap off, come at us like a windmill-’ ‘–leapin’ on rocks and laughin’–’said Morry. ‘Yeah, you said to Morry, "Have
understand a word of it, but I know good dialogue when I hear it.’
‘Parrots,’ said the handleman flatly. ‘Your common Howondaland Green. Amazing bird. Memory like an elephant. Get a couple of dozen in different sizes and you’ve got a full vocal-’
That at you, you Foul Black Guard," ‘ said Rock. ‘And then you caught him a right ding on the arm, cut a hole in the tent–’
‘Good sword work, though,’ said Morry appraisingly. ‘A bit showy, but pretty good.’
‘But I don’t know how to-’ Victor began.
‘–and she was lying there all longgrass,’ said Rock. ‘An’ you swept her up, and she said-’
‘Long grass?’ said Ginger weakly. launched a detailed technical discussion. Victor let himself slide off the camel’s back and ducked under its neck to reach Ginger. ‘Listen,’ he said urgently. ‘It was just like last time. Only stronger. Like a sort of dream. The handleman started to take pictures and it was just like a dream.’ ‘Yes, but what did we actually do?’ she said. ‘What you did,’ said Rock, ‘was gallop the camel up to the tent, leap off, come at us like a windmill-’ ‘–leapin’ on rocks and laughin’–’said Morry. ‘Yeah, you said to Morry, "Have
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Edgar Degas Beach Scene
Edgar Degas Beach SceneEdgar Degas Ballerina and Lady with a FanEdgar Degas At the MillinersFrida Kahlo Without HopeFrida Kahlo Thinking about Death
walked further along the bench, where another box
stood with its back panel open. This time a cageful of sluggishlooking lizards blinked mournfully at Victor.
‘We ain’t Victor prodded the picture box thoughtfully.
‘Well, all right,’ he said. ‘So you get lots of little pictures. And you wind them fast. So we ought to see a blur, but we don’t.’
‘Ah,’ said Gaffer, tapping the side of his nose. ‘Handlemen’s Guild secret, that is. Handed down from initiate to initiate,’ he added importantly. very happy with this,’ said Gaffer, ‘but it’s the best we can do. Your basic salamander, see, will lie in the desert all day, absorbing light, and when it’s frightened it excretes the light again. Self-defence mechanism, it’s called. So as the film goes past and the shutter here clicks backwards and forwards, their light goes out through the film and these lenses here and on to the screen. Basically very simple.’ ‘How do you make them frightened?’ said Victor. ‘You see this handle?’ ‘Oh.’
walked further along the bench, where another box
stood with its back panel open. This time a cageful of sluggishlooking lizards blinked mournfully at Victor.
‘We ain’t Victor prodded the picture box thoughtfully.
‘Well, all right,’ he said. ‘So you get lots of little pictures. And you wind them fast. So we ought to see a blur, but we don’t.’
‘Ah,’ said Gaffer, tapping the side of his nose. ‘Handlemen’s Guild secret, that is. Handed down from initiate to initiate,’ he added importantly. very happy with this,’ said Gaffer, ‘but it’s the best we can do. Your basic salamander, see, will lie in the desert all day, absorbing light, and when it’s frightened it excretes the light again. Self-defence mechanism, it’s called. So as the film goes past and the shutter here clicks backwards and forwards, their light goes out through the film and these lenses here and on to the screen. Basically very simple.’ ‘How do you make them frightened?’ said Victor. ‘You see this handle?’ ‘Oh.’
Monday, March 23, 2009
Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with Necklace
Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with NecklaceFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with MonkeysFrida Kahlo Self Portrait 1940Frida Kahlo My Dress Hangs ThereFrida Kahlo Diego and I
turned to the assembled soldiers. They were staring at him with expressions of amazement, apart from those who hadn't removed their helmets and who were staring at him with expressions of metallic ferocity.
Teppic snatched a water skin from one of them, pulled out the stopper and tipped it on to the ground in front of the camel's to a camel!'
'Is a sword any good?'
'No!'
The sergeant hesitated, and then passed Teppic his spear. He grabbed it point-end first, fought for balance, and then brought it smartly across the camel's flank, raising a cloud of dust and hair.
You Bastard stopped. His ears turned like radar aerials. He stared at the rock wall, rolling twitching nose. 'There's a river here,' he hissed. 'You know where it is, all you've got to do is go there!' The soldiers looked around nervously. So did several Tsorteans, who had wandered up to see what was going on. You Bastard got to his feet, knees trembling, and started to spin around in a circle. Teppic clung on. . . . let d equal 4, thought You Bastard desperately. Let a.d equal 90. Let not-d equal 45 . . . 'I need a stick!' shouted Teppic, as he was whirled past the sergeant. 'They never understand anything unless you hit them with a stick, it's like punctuation
turned to the assembled soldiers. They were staring at him with expressions of amazement, apart from those who hadn't removed their helmets and who were staring at him with expressions of metallic ferocity.
Teppic snatched a water skin from one of them, pulled out the stopper and tipped it on to the ground in front of the camel's to a camel!'
'Is a sword any good?'
'No!'
The sergeant hesitated, and then passed Teppic his spear. He grabbed it point-end first, fought for balance, and then brought it smartly across the camel's flank, raising a cloud of dust and hair.
You Bastard stopped. His ears turned like radar aerials. He stared at the rock wall, rolling twitching nose. 'There's a river here,' he hissed. 'You know where it is, all you've got to do is go there!' The soldiers looked around nervously. So did several Tsorteans, who had wandered up to see what was going on. You Bastard got to his feet, knees trembling, and started to spin around in a circle. Teppic clung on. . . . let d equal 4, thought You Bastard desperately. Let a.d equal 90. Let not-d equal 45 . . . 'I need a stick!' shouted Teppic, as he was whirled past the sergeant. 'They never understand anything unless you hit them with a stick, it's like punctuation
Friday, March 20, 2009
Paul Klee Around the Fish
Paul Klee Around the FishPaul Klee Ancient SoundRene Magritte HomesicknessArthur Hughes PhyllisFranz Marc Zwei Katzen
Teppic realised what it was about the man's speech that was strange. Dios would bend any sentence to breaking point if it meant avoiding a past tense. He pointed to another fresco.
'And her?' he said.
'She is proceed down the corridor, limping slightly but still measuring his pace like the ticking of centuries. 'The barbarian lands.'
Teppic looked at his father. The embalmers had done a good job. They were waitinQueen Khat-leon-ra-pta,' said Dios. 'She wins the kingdom of Howandaland by stealth. This is the time of the Second Empire.' 'But she is dead?' said Teppic. 'I understand so,' said the high priest, after the slightest of pauses. Yes. The past tense definitely bothered Dios. 'I have learned seven languages,' said Teppic, secure in the knowledge that the actual marks he had achieved in three of them would remain concealed in the ledgers of the Guild. 'Indeed, sire?' 'Oh, yes. Morporkian, Vanglemesht, Ephebe, Laotation and several others . . .' said Teppic. 'Ah.' Dios nodded, smiled, and continued to g for him to tell them
Teppic realised what it was about the man's speech that was strange. Dios would bend any sentence to breaking point if it meant avoiding a past tense. He pointed to another fresco.
'And her?' he said.
'She is proceed down the corridor, limping slightly but still measuring his pace like the ticking of centuries. 'The barbarian lands.'
Teppic looked at his father. The embalmers had done a good job. They were waitinQueen Khat-leon-ra-pta,' said Dios. 'She wins the kingdom of Howandaland by stealth. This is the time of the Second Empire.' 'But she is dead?' said Teppic. 'I understand so,' said the high priest, after the slightest of pauses. Yes. The past tense definitely bothered Dios. 'I have learned seven languages,' said Teppic, secure in the knowledge that the actual marks he had achieved in three of them would remain concealed in the ledgers of the Guild. 'Indeed, sire?' 'Oh, yes. Morporkian, Vanglemesht, Ephebe, Laotation and several others . . .' said Teppic. 'Ah.' Dios nodded, smiled, and continued to g for him to tell them
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Andy Warhol Basket of Flowers
Andy Warhol Basket of FlowersNicolas De Stael Sky in HonfleurNicolas De Stael Noon LandscapeNicolas De Stael Jazz MusiciansNicolas De Stael Fiesole 1953
beer, and whispered in her ear.
The two started a spirited, whispered conversation. It was, thought Tomjon, a particularly feminine way of talking. It normally took place on doorsteps, with all the participants standing with their arms folded and, if anyone was her chair, and came and took Tomjon's hand. He followed her unprotestingly across the flagstones and up the steps to the throne, where she put her hands on his shoulders and pressed him gently down on to the threadbare red plush cushions.
There was a scraping of benches and chairs. He looked around in panic.
'What's happening now?' he said.so ungracious as to walk past, they'd stop abruptly and watch them in silence until they were safely out of earshot.He became aware that Granny Weatherwax had stopped talking, and that the entire hall was staring at him expectantly.'Hallo?' he said.'It might be a good idea to hold the coronation tomorrow,' said Granny. 'It's not good for a kingdom to be without a ruler. It doesn't like it.'She stood up, pushed back
beer, and whispered in her ear.
The two started a spirited, whispered conversation. It was, thought Tomjon, a particularly feminine way of talking. It normally took place on doorsteps, with all the participants standing with their arms folded and, if anyone was her chair, and came and took Tomjon's hand. He followed her unprotestingly across the flagstones and up the steps to the throne, where she put her hands on his shoulders and pressed him gently down on to the threadbare red plush cushions.
There was a scraping of benches and chairs. He looked around in panic.
'What's happening now?' he said.so ungracious as to walk past, they'd stop abruptly and watch them in silence until they were safely out of earshot.He became aware that Granny Weatherwax had stopped talking, and that the entire hall was staring at him expectantly.'Hallo?' he said.'It might be a good idea to hold the coronation tomorrow,' said Granny. 'It's not good for a kingdom to be without a ruler. It doesn't like it.'She stood up, pushed back
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Before Bathing
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Before BathingJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beaching the BoatJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beach at ValenciaAlexandre Cabanel HarmonyThomas Gainsborough Shepherd Boys with Dogs Fighting
'Light the fire, Magrat.'
'Yes, Granny.'
'Right. Let's see now—'
'I wrote it all down, Granny.'
'I can read, my girl, thank you very much. Now, what's this. "Round about the cauldron go, In the poisoned entrails throw . . ." What are these supposed to be?'
'Our Jason slaughtered a pig yesterday, Esme.'
'These look like perfectly good chitterlin's to me, Gytha. There's a couple of decent meals in them, if I'm any judge.'
'Please, Granny.'
'There's from forn parts.'plenty of starvin' people in Klatch who wouldn 'tturn up their nose at 'em, that's all I'm saying . . . All right, all right. "Whole grain wheat and lentils too, In the cauldron seethe and stew"? What happened to the toad?''Please, Granny. You 're slowing it down. You know Goodie was against all unnecessary cruelty. Vegetable protein is a perfectly acceptable substitute.''That means no newt or fenny snake either, I suppose?''No, Granny.''Or tiger's chaudron?''Here.''What the hell's this, excuse my Klatchian?''It's a tiger's chaudron, Our Wane brought it off a merchant
'You sure?'
'Our Wane asked special, Esme.'
'Looks like any other chaudron to me. Oh, well. "Double nubble
'Light the fire, Magrat.'
'Yes, Granny.'
'Right. Let's see now—'
'I wrote it all down, Granny.'
'I can read, my girl, thank you very much. Now, what's this. "Round about the cauldron go, In the poisoned entrails throw . . ." What are these supposed to be?'
'Our Jason slaughtered a pig yesterday, Esme.'
'These look like perfectly good chitterlin's to me, Gytha. There's a couple of decent meals in them, if I'm any judge.'
'Please, Granny.'
'There's from forn parts.'plenty of starvin' people in Klatch who wouldn 'tturn up their nose at 'em, that's all I'm saying . . . All right, all right. "Whole grain wheat and lentils too, In the cauldron seethe and stew"? What happened to the toad?''Please, Granny. You 're slowing it down. You know Goodie was against all unnecessary cruelty. Vegetable protein is a perfectly acceptable substitute.''That means no newt or fenny snake either, I suppose?''No, Granny.''Or tiger's chaudron?''Here.''What the hell's this, excuse my Klatchian?''It's a tiger's chaudron, Our Wane brought it off a merchant
'You sure?'
'Our Wane asked special, Esme.'
'Looks like any other chaudron to me. Oh, well. "Double nubble
Monday, March 16, 2009
Edward Hopper Drug Store
Edward Hopper Drug StoreEdward Hopper Conference at NightEdward Hopper City SunlightEdward Hopper Chair CarEdward Hopper A Woman in the Sun
There was pandemonium outside the castle. The crowd that had been there at Granny's arrival had grown considerably, and had flowed in through the now unguarded gateway and lapped around the keep. Civil disobedience was new to Lancre, but its inhabitants had already mastered some of its more elementary manifestations, viz, the jerking of rakes and sickles in the air with simple up-and-down motions accompanied by grimaces and cries of 'Gerrh!', although a few citizens, who hadn't quite grasped the idea, were waving flags and cheering. Advanced students were already eyeing the more combustible buildings inside the walls. Several He leaned closer to Granny.
'Yes, there are a hundred things you could do,' he said. 'But the ending would always be the same.' He drew back. 'I'm not an unreasonable man, I hope,' he added, in cheerful tones. 'Perhaps, if you persuade the people to be calm, I may be prevailed upon to moderate my rule somewhat. I make no promises, of course.'sellers of hot meat pies and sausages a brisk trade. Pretty soon someone was going to throw something.The three witches stood at the top of the steps that led to the keep's main door and surveyed the seas of faces.'There's our Jason,' said Nanny happily. 'And Wane and Darron and Kev and Trev and Nev—''I will remember their faces,' said Lord Felmet, emerging between them and putting a hand on their shoulders. 'And do you see my archers, on the wails?''I see 'em,' said Granny grimly.'Then smile and wave,' said the duke. 'So that the people may know that all is well. After all, have you not been to see me today on matters of state?'
There was pandemonium outside the castle. The crowd that had been there at Granny's arrival had grown considerably, and had flowed in through the now unguarded gateway and lapped around the keep. Civil disobedience was new to Lancre, but its inhabitants had already mastered some of its more elementary manifestations, viz, the jerking of rakes and sickles in the air with simple up-and-down motions accompanied by grimaces and cries of 'Gerrh!', although a few citizens, who hadn't quite grasped the idea, were waving flags and cheering. Advanced students were already eyeing the more combustible buildings inside the walls. Several He leaned closer to Granny.
'Yes, there are a hundred things you could do,' he said. 'But the ending would always be the same.' He drew back. 'I'm not an unreasonable man, I hope,' he added, in cheerful tones. 'Perhaps, if you persuade the people to be calm, I may be prevailed upon to moderate my rule somewhat. I make no promises, of course.'sellers of hot meat pies and sausages a brisk trade. Pretty soon someone was going to throw something.The three witches stood at the top of the steps that led to the keep's main door and surveyed the seas of faces.'There's our Jason,' said Nanny happily. 'And Wane and Darron and Kev and Trev and Nev—''I will remember their faces,' said Lord Felmet, emerging between them and putting a hand on their shoulders. 'And do you see my archers, on the wails?''I see 'em,' said Granny grimly.'Then smile and wave,' said the duke. 'So that the people may know that all is well. After all, have you not been to see me today on matters of state?'
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Paul Gauguin Breton Girls Dancing
Paul Gauguin Breton Girls DancingHenri Matisse The MoroccansHenri Matisse Still Life with OrangesHenri Matisse Open Window CollioureHenri Matisse Blue Nude
stood up. He removed his helmet, to show respect, and sidled through the damp grass to the back door. He knocked, very gently.
After a wait of several seconds he clamped his helmet back on his head, said, 'No-one in. Blast', and started to stride away.
The door opened. It opened very slowly, and with the maximum amount of creak. Simple neglect wouldn't have caused that depth of groan; you'd need careful work with hot water over a period of weeks. The sergeant 'She did what?' said the duke.
The sergeant stared fixedly at an area a few inches to the right of the duke's chair.
'She give me a cup of tea, sir,' he said.
'And what about your men?'
'She give them one too, sir.'stopped, and then turned round very slowly while contriving to move as few muscles as possible.He had mixed feelings about the fact that there was nothing in the doorway. In his experience, doors didn't just open themselves.He cleared his throat nervously.Granny Weatherwax, right by his ear, said, 'That's a nasty cough you've got there. You did right in coming to me.'The sergeant looked up at her with an expression of mad gratitude. He said, 'Argle.'
stood up. He removed his helmet, to show respect, and sidled through the damp grass to the back door. He knocked, very gently.
After a wait of several seconds he clamped his helmet back on his head, said, 'No-one in. Blast', and started to stride away.
The door opened. It opened very slowly, and with the maximum amount of creak. Simple neglect wouldn't have caused that depth of groan; you'd need careful work with hot water over a period of weeks. The sergeant 'She did what?' said the duke.
The sergeant stared fixedly at an area a few inches to the right of the duke's chair.
'She give me a cup of tea, sir,' he said.
'And what about your men?'
'She give them one too, sir.'stopped, and then turned round very slowly while contriving to move as few muscles as possible.He had mixed feelings about the fact that there was nothing in the doorway. In his experience, doors didn't just open themselves.He cleared his throat nervously.Granny Weatherwax, right by his ear, said, 'That's a nasty cough you've got there. You did right in coming to me.'The sergeant looked up at her with an expression of mad gratitude. He said, 'Argle.'
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Leroy Neiman Amphitheatre at Rivera
Leroy Neiman Amphitheatre at RiveraLeroy Neiman American Stock ExchangeLeroy Neiman 18th at Harbourtown
Cutwell wanted was what any normal wizard wanted at a time like this, which was a smoke. He'd have killed for a cigar, and would have gone as far as a flesh wound for a squashed dog-end. He pulled himself together. Resolution was at least with an acceptable beer made from broccoli. There was going to be folk dancing, at sword point if necessary. There would be races for children. There would be an ox roast. The royal coach had been regilded and Cutwell was optimistic that people could be persuaded to notice it as it went by.
The High Priest at the Temple of Blind Io was going to be a problem. Cutwell had marked good for the moral fibre; the only trouble was the fibre didn't appreciate the sacrifices he was making for it. They said that a truly great wizard should be permanently under tension. You could have used Cutwell for a bowstring.He turned his back on the brassica-ed landscape and made his way back down the winding steps to the main part of the palace.Still, he told himself, the campaign appeared to be working. The population didn't seem to be resisting the fact that there was going to be a coronation, although they weren't exactly clear about who was going to be crowned. There was going to be bunting in the streets and Cutwell had arranged for the town square's main fountain to run, if not with wine, then
Cutwell wanted was what any normal wizard wanted at a time like this, which was a smoke. He'd have killed for a cigar, and would have gone as far as a flesh wound for a squashed dog-end. He pulled himself together. Resolution was at least with an acceptable beer made from broccoli. There was going to be folk dancing, at sword point if necessary. There would be races for children. There would be an ox roast. The royal coach had been regilded and Cutwell was optimistic that people could be persuaded to notice it as it went by.
The High Priest at the Temple of Blind Io was going to be a problem. Cutwell had marked good for the moral fibre; the only trouble was the fibre didn't appreciate the sacrifices he was making for it. They said that a truly great wizard should be permanently under tension. You could have used Cutwell for a bowstring.He turned his back on the brassica-ed landscape and made his way back down the winding steps to the main part of the palace.Still, he told himself, the campaign appeared to be working. The population didn't seem to be resisting the fact that there was going to be a coronation, although they weren't exactly clear about who was going to be crowned. There was going to be bunting in the streets and Cutwell had arranged for the town square's main fountain to run, if not with wine, then
Rene Magritte The Big Family
Rene Magritte The Big FamilyRene Magritte PrimevereRene Magritte Personal Values
skulking off to talk to wizards! Where does he live?'
The woman turned a tear-stained face towards her, fighting against every instinct that told her the princess didn't exist.. She looked at her hands. She seemed solid enough.
It had to be magic.
She wandered into her robing room and experimentally opened a few cupboards until she found a black cloak and hood. She slipped them on and darted out into the corridor and down the servants' stairs.
She hadn't been this way since she was little. This was the world of linen cupboards, bare floors and dumb-waiters. It smelled of slightly stale crusts.'Uh . . . wizard, yes . . . Cutwell, in Wall Street.Keli's lips compressed into a thin smile. She wondered where her cloaks were kept, but cold reason told her it was going to be a damn sight easier to find them herself than try to make her presence felt to the maid. She waited, watching closely, as the woman stopped sobbing, looked around her in vague bewilderment, and hurried out of the room.She's forgotten me already, she thought
skulking off to talk to wizards! Where does he live?'
The woman turned a tear-stained face towards her, fighting against every instinct that told her the princess didn't exist.. She looked at her hands. She seemed solid enough.
It had to be magic.
She wandered into her robing room and experimentally opened a few cupboards until she found a black cloak and hood. She slipped them on and darted out into the corridor and down the servants' stairs.
She hadn't been this way since she was little. This was the world of linen cupboards, bare floors and dumb-waiters. It smelled of slightly stale crusts.'Uh . . . wizard, yes . . . Cutwell, in Wall Street.Keli's lips compressed into a thin smile. She wondered where her cloaks were kept, but cold reason told her it was going to be a damn sight easier to find them herself than try to make her presence felt to the maid. She waited, watching closely, as the woman stopped sobbing, looked around her in vague bewilderment, and hurried out of the room.She's forgotten me already, she thought
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Claude Monet Impression Sunrise
Claude Monet Impression SunrisePierre Auguste Renoir Girls at The PianoDiane Romanello Weeping Willows
WORLD AND THEY SPEND THEM ALL IN MAKING THINGS COMPLICATED FOR THEMSELVES. FASCINATING. HAVE A GHERKIN.
'Where's the king?' said Mort, craning to look over the heads of the court.
CHAP WITH anyone want to kill him?'
SEE THE MAN NEXT TO HIM? WITH THE LITTLE MOUSTACHE AND THE GRIN LIKE A LIZARD? Death ointed with his scythe. 'Yes?' HIS COUSIN, THE DUKE OF STO HELIT. NOT THE NICEST OF PEOPLE, said Death. A HANDY MAN WITH A BOTTLE OF POISON. FIFTH IN LINE TO THE THRONE LAST YEAR, NOW SECOND IN LINE. BIT OF A SOCIAL CLIMBER, YOU MIGHT SAY. He fumbled THE GOLDEN BEARD, said Death. He tapped a flunky on the shoulder, and as the man turned and looked around in puzzlement deftly piloted another drink from his tray.Mort cast around until he saw the figure standing in a little group in the centre of the crowd, leaning over slightly the better to hear what a rather short courtier was saying to him. He was a tall, heavily-built man with the kind of stolid, patient face that one would confidently buy a used horse from.'He doesn't look a bad king,' said Mort. 'Why would
WORLD AND THEY SPEND THEM ALL IN MAKING THINGS COMPLICATED FOR THEMSELVES. FASCINATING. HAVE A GHERKIN.
'Where's the king?' said Mort, craning to look over the heads of the court.
CHAP WITH anyone want to kill him?'
SEE THE MAN NEXT TO HIM? WITH THE LITTLE MOUSTACHE AND THE GRIN LIKE A LIZARD? Death ointed with his scythe. 'Yes?' HIS COUSIN, THE DUKE OF STO HELIT. NOT THE NICEST OF PEOPLE, said Death. A HANDY MAN WITH A BOTTLE OF POISON. FIFTH IN LINE TO THE THRONE LAST YEAR, NOW SECOND IN LINE. BIT OF A SOCIAL CLIMBER, YOU MIGHT SAY. He fumbled THE GOLDEN BEARD, said Death. He tapped a flunky on the shoulder, and as the man turned and looked around in puzzlement deftly piloted another drink from his tray.Mort cast around until he saw the figure standing in a little group in the centre of the crowd, leaning over slightly the better to hear what a rather short courtier was saying to him. He was a tall, heavily-built man with the kind of stolid, patient face that one would confidently buy a used horse from.'He doesn't look a bad king,' said Mort. 'Why would
Monday, March 9, 2009
Gustav Klimt Schloss Kammer Am Attersee II
Gustav Klimt Schloss Kammer Am Attersee IIGustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch (gold foil)Gustav Klimt Judith II (gold foil)
Which was not, given the circumstances, very hard. But where her foot struck there was an explosion of white sparks and a pop -which would have been a much more satisfying bang if the thin air here didn't suck the sound away.
The Thing slowly, like a sackful of coathangers. When it hit the ground it collapsed into a mass of disjointed limbs; the head rolled away and rocked to a standstill.
Is that all? thought Esk. They can hardly walk, even! When you hit them they just fall over?
The nearest Things chittered and tried to back away as she marched determinedly towards them, but since their bodies seemed to be held together more or less by wishful thinking they weren't very good at it. She hit one, which had a face like a small family of squid, and it deflated into a pile of twitching bones screeched like a chainsaw encountering, deep inside an unsuspecting sapling, a lurking and long-forgotten nail. The others around it set up a sympathetic buzzing. Esk kicked again and the Thing shrieked and dropped her to the sand. She was bright enough to roll, with the tiny world hugged protectively to her, because even in a dream a broken ankle can be painful. The Thing lurched uncertainly above her. Esk's eyes narrowed. She put the world down very carefully, hit the Thing very hard around the point where its shins would be, if there were shins under that cloak, and picked up the world again in one neat movement. The creature howled, bent double, and then toppled
Which was not, given the circumstances, very hard. But where her foot struck there was an explosion of white sparks and a pop -which would have been a much more satisfying bang if the thin air here didn't suck the sound away.
The Thing slowly, like a sackful of coathangers. When it hit the ground it collapsed into a mass of disjointed limbs; the head rolled away and rocked to a standstill.
Is that all? thought Esk. They can hardly walk, even! When you hit them they just fall over?
The nearest Things chittered and tried to back away as she marched determinedly towards them, but since their bodies seemed to be held together more or less by wishful thinking they weren't very good at it. She hit one, which had a face like a small family of squid, and it deflated into a pile of twitching bones screeched like a chainsaw encountering, deep inside an unsuspecting sapling, a lurking and long-forgotten nail. The others around it set up a sympathetic buzzing. Esk kicked again and the Thing shrieked and dropped her to the sand. She was bright enough to roll, with the tiny world hugged protectively to her, because even in a dream a broken ankle can be painful. The Thing lurched uncertainly above her. Esk's eyes narrowed. She put the world down very carefully, hit the Thing very hard around the point where its shins would be, if there were shins under that cloak, and picked up the world again in one neat movement. The creature howled, bent double, and then toppled
Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with Monkeys
Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with MonkeysFrida Kahlo Self Portrait 1940Frida Kahlo My Dress Hangs There
a town like Zemphis was the place where caravans split, mingled and came together again, as dozens of merchants and travellers banded together for protection against the socially disadvantaged on the trails ahead. Esk, wandering unregarded amidst the bustle, learned all this by the simple method of finding someone who looked down and talking seriously to a small, grubby-faced child holding a large broomstick (which also, it seemed to him later, was in some indefinable way paying attention).
He explained about the caravans. The child nodded.
"People all get together to travel?"
"Precisely."
"Where to?"important and tugging on the hem of his coat. This particular man was counting bales of tobacco and would have succeeded but for the interruption. "What?" "I said, what happening here?" The man meant to say: "Push off and bother someone else." He meant to give her a light cuff about the head. So he was astonished to find himself bending
a town like Zemphis was the place where caravans split, mingled and came together again, as dozens of merchants and travellers banded together for protection against the socially disadvantaged on the trails ahead. Esk, wandering unregarded amidst the bustle, learned all this by the simple method of finding someone who looked down and talking seriously to a small, grubby-faced child holding a large broomstick (which also, it seemed to him later, was in some indefinable way paying attention).
He explained about the caravans. The child nodded.
"People all get together to travel?"
"Precisely."
"Where to?"important and tugging on the hem of his coat. This particular man was counting bales of tobacco and would have succeeded but for the interruption. "What?" "I said, what happening here?" The man meant to say: "Push off and bother someone else." He meant to give her a light cuff about the head. So he was astonished to find himself bending
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Gustav Klimt dancer
Gustav Klimt dancerGustav Klimt Adam and EveFrederic Remington The Cowboy
It's only a mile and the road is clear enough and who was so keen to be out in it when we had the first snowfall? Go on with you, and don't come back till you're in a better temper."
They found Esk "Because you'll just slow us down and probably cry anyway."
Esk looked down at them solemnly. She didn't cry a lot, it never seemed to achieve much.
"If you don't want me to come then I'll come," she said. This sort of thing passes for logic among siblings.
"Oh, we want you to come," said Gulta quickly.sitting in a fork of the big apple tree. The boys didn't like the tree much. For one thing, it was so covered in mistletoe that it looked green even in midwinter, its fruit was small and went from stomach-twisting sourness to wasp-filled rottenness overnight, and although it looked easy enough to climb it had a habit of breaking twigs and dislodging feet at inconvenient moments. Cern once swore that a branch had twisted just to spill him off. But it tolerated Esk, who used to go and sit in it if she was annoyed or fed up or just wanted to be by herself, and the boys sensed that every brother's right to gently torture his sister ended at the foot of its trunk. So they threw a snowball at her. It missed. "We're going to see old Weatherwax." "But you don't have to come."
It's only a mile and the road is clear enough and who was so keen to be out in it when we had the first snowfall? Go on with you, and don't come back till you're in a better temper."
They found Esk "Because you'll just slow us down and probably cry anyway."
Esk looked down at them solemnly. She didn't cry a lot, it never seemed to achieve much.
"If you don't want me to come then I'll come," she said. This sort of thing passes for logic among siblings.
"Oh, we want you to come," said Gulta quickly.sitting in a fork of the big apple tree. The boys didn't like the tree much. For one thing, it was so covered in mistletoe that it looked green even in midwinter, its fruit was small and went from stomach-twisting sourness to wasp-filled rottenness overnight, and although it looked easy enough to climb it had a habit of breaking twigs and dislodging feet at inconvenient moments. Cern once swore that a branch had twisted just to spill him off. But it tolerated Esk, who used to go and sit in it if she was annoyed or fed up or just wanted to be by herself, and the boys sensed that every brother's right to gently torture his sister ended at the foot of its trunk. So they threw a snowball at her. It missed. "We're going to see old Weatherwax." "But you don't have to come."
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres Princesse Albert de Broglie
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres Princesse Albert de BrogliePeter Paul Rubens The Judgment of ParisPeter Paul Rubens Landscape with a RainbowPeter Paul Rubens Hippopotamus and Crocodile Hunt
suspiciously at Rincewind.
'Nobody,' said Rincewind. 'Can we go away? I've got a headache.'
Now a group of people at the edge of the crowd were muttering and pointing to them. Rincewind grabbed the other two and hurried them around the corner.He gave a little laugh.
The man paused, his lips moving soundlessly, as though he was listening to a voice in his head. Several ther star people had joined him. Rincewind's left ear began to be widely regarded.
'I think you're a wizard,' said the man.
'Look,' said Rincewind, 'if I was a wizard I'd be able to do magic, right? I'd just turn you into something, and I haven't, so I'm not.'
'We killed all our wizards,' said
'Mount up and let's go,' he said. 'I've got a bad feeling that —'
A hand landed on his shoulder. He turned around. A pair of cloudy grey eyes set in a round bald head on top of a large muscular body were staring hard at his left ear. The man had a star painted on his forehead.
'You look like a wizard,' he said, in a tone of voice that suggested this was very unwise and quite possibly
suspiciously at Rincewind.
'Nobody,' said Rincewind. 'Can we go away? I've got a headache.'
Now a group of people at the edge of the crowd were muttering and pointing to them. Rincewind grabbed the other two and hurried them around the corner.He gave a little laugh.
The man paused, his lips moving soundlessly, as though he was listening to a voice in his head. Several ther star people had joined him. Rincewind's left ear began to be widely regarded.
'I think you're a wizard,' said the man.
'Look,' said Rincewind, 'if I was a wizard I'd be able to do magic, right? I'd just turn you into something, and I haven't, so I'm not.'
'We killed all our wizards,' said
'Mount up and let's go,' he said. 'I've got a bad feeling that —'
A hand landed on his shoulder. He turned around. A pair of cloudy grey eyes set in a round bald head on top of a large muscular body were staring hard at his left ear. The man had a star painted on his forehead.
'You look like a wizard,' he said, in a tone of voice that suggested this was very unwise and quite possibly
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
George Bellows The Circus
George Bellows The CircusGeorge Bellows Summer FantasyGeorge Bellows Romance of AutumnGeorge Bellows Red Sun
. You mean if it's covered in snow then it must be winter?'
'Yes. I mean no. I mean, supposing you wanted to know when a particular star is going to rise —'
'Why?' said Twoflower, radiating polite interest.
'Well, maybe you want to know when to plant your crops,' said Belafon, sweating a little, 'or maybe—'
'I'll lend you my almanac, if you like,' said Twoflower.
'Almanac?'
'It's a book that tells you what day it is,' said Rincewind wearily. 'It'd be right up your leyline.'
Belafon stiffened. 'Book?' he said. 'Like, with paper?'
'Yes.'five hundred years trying to get a stone circle to work properly and then someone comes up with a little book with a page for every day and little chatty bits saying things like "Now is a good time to plant broad beans" and "Early to rise, early to bed, makes a dead," and do you know what the most important thing to remember about culture shock.' Rincewind paused for breath, and moved his lips silently That doesn't sound very reliable to me,' said the druid nastily. 'How can a book know what day it is? Paper can't count.'He stamped off to the front of the rock, causing it to wallow alarmingly. Rincewind swallowed hard and beckoned Twoflower closer.'Have you ever heard of culture shock?' he hissed.'What's that?''It's what happens when people spend
. You mean if it's covered in snow then it must be winter?'
'Yes. I mean no. I mean, supposing you wanted to know when a particular star is going to rise —'
'Why?' said Twoflower, radiating polite interest.
'Well, maybe you want to know when to plant your crops,' said Belafon, sweating a little, 'or maybe—'
'I'll lend you my almanac, if you like,' said Twoflower.
'Almanac?'
'It's a book that tells you what day it is,' said Rincewind wearily. 'It'd be right up your leyline.'
Belafon stiffened. 'Book?' he said. 'Like, with paper?'
'Yes.'five hundred years trying to get a stone circle to work properly and then someone comes up with a little book with a page for every day and little chatty bits saying things like "Now is a good time to plant broad beans" and "Early to rise, early to bed, makes a dead," and do you know what the most important thing to remember about culture shock.' Rincewind paused for breath, and moved his lips silently That doesn't sound very reliable to me,' said the druid nastily. 'How can a book know what day it is? Paper can't count.'He stamped off to the front of the rock, causing it to wallow alarmingly. Rincewind swallowed hard and beckoned Twoflower closer.'Have you ever heard of culture shock?' he hissed.'What's that?''It's what happens when people spend
Monday, March 2, 2009
Vincent van Gogh Harvest Landscape
Vincent van Gogh Harvest LandscapeUnknown Artist Apple Tree with Red FruitGeorge Frederick Watts Orpheus and EurydiceGeorge Frederick Watts Orpheus and Eurydice detail
eyes that were black as the inside of a cat and full of distant stars that had no counterpart among the familiar constellations of the Realtime universe.
Death and Fate looked at each other. Death grinned - He had no alternative, of course, being made of implacable bone. The whetstone sang rhythmically along the blade as He continued His task.
"I have a vantage point.
The scythe ceased its song.
"They die in a few hours," said Fate. "It is fated."
Death stirred, and the stone began to move again.
"I thought you would be pleased," said Fate.task for you," said Fate. His words drifted across death's scythe and split tidily into two ribbons of consonants and vowels.I HAVE TASKS ENOUGH THIS DAY, said Death in a voice as heavy as neutronium, THE WHITE PLAGUE ABIDES EVEN NOW IN PSEUDOPOLIS AND I AM BOUND THERE TO RESCUE MANY OF ITS CITIZENS FROM HIS GRASP. SUCH A ONE HAS NOT BEEN SEEN THESE HUNDRED YEARS. I AM EXPECTED TO STALK THE STREETS, AS IS MY DUTY."I refer to the matter of the little wanderer and the rogue wizard," said Fate softly, seating himself beside Death's black-robed form and staring down at the,distant, multifaceted jewel which was the Disc universe as seen from this extra-dimensional
eyes that were black as the inside of a cat and full of distant stars that had no counterpart among the familiar constellations of the Realtime universe.
Death and Fate looked at each other. Death grinned - He had no alternative, of course, being made of implacable bone. The whetstone sang rhythmically along the blade as He continued His task.
"I have a vantage point.
The scythe ceased its song.
"They die in a few hours," said Fate. "It is fated."
Death stirred, and the stone began to move again.
"I thought you would be pleased," said Fate.task for you," said Fate. His words drifted across death's scythe and split tidily into two ribbons of consonants and vowels.I HAVE TASKS ENOUGH THIS DAY, said Death in a voice as heavy as neutronium, THE WHITE PLAGUE ABIDES EVEN NOW IN PSEUDOPOLIS AND I AM BOUND THERE TO RESCUE MANY OF ITS CITIZENS FROM HIS GRASP. SUCH A ONE HAS NOT BEEN SEEN THESE HUNDRED YEARS. I AM EXPECTED TO STALK THE STREETS, AS IS MY DUTY."I refer to the matter of the little wanderer and the rogue wizard," said Fate softly, seating himself beside Death's black-robed form and staring down at the,distant, multifaceted jewel which was the Disc universe as seen from this extra-dimensional
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Leroy Neiman Resting Tiger
Leroy Neiman Resting TigerLeroy Neiman Resting LionLeroy Neiman Hand Off Superbowl IIIJean-Honore Fragonard the reader
What? Oh no. No, this is just, you know, kind of a habit. Just keeping in practice. So where are these brothers?" He grinned.
Twoflower sat on his straw and stared into the darkness. He wondered how long he had been there. Hours, at least. the greasy feel and faint shower of sparks that betokened a localised magical field. Twoflower found himself fervently wishing for light.
A gout of flame rolled past his head and struck the far wall. As the rocks flashed into furnace heat he looked up at the dragon that now occupied more than half the cell.
I obey, lord said a voice in his head.
By the glow of the crackling, spitting stone Twoflower looked into his own reflection in two enormous green Days, probably. He speculated that perhaps it had been years, and he had simply forgotten.No, that sort of thinking wouldn't do. He tried to think of something else - grass, trees, fresh air, dragons. Dragons...There was the faintest of scrabblings in the darkness. Twoflower felt the sweat prickle on his forehead.Something was in the cell with him. Something that made small noises, but even in the pitch blackness gave the impression of hugeness. He felt the air move.When he lifted his arm there was
What? Oh no. No, this is just, you know, kind of a habit. Just keeping in practice. So where are these brothers?" He grinned.
Twoflower sat on his straw and stared into the darkness. He wondered how long he had been there. Hours, at least. the greasy feel and faint shower of sparks that betokened a localised magical field. Twoflower found himself fervently wishing for light.
A gout of flame rolled past his head and struck the far wall. As the rocks flashed into furnace heat he looked up at the dragon that now occupied more than half the cell.
I obey, lord said a voice in his head.
By the glow of the crackling, spitting stone Twoflower looked into his own reflection in two enormous green Days, probably. He speculated that perhaps it had been years, and he had simply forgotten.No, that sort of thinking wouldn't do. He tried to think of something else - grass, trees, fresh air, dragons. Dragons...There was the faintest of scrabblings in the darkness. Twoflower felt the sweat prickle on his forehead.Something was in the cell with him. Something that made small noises, but even in the pitch blackness gave the impression of hugeness. He felt the air move.When he lifted his arm there was
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