Thursday, May 14, 2009

Jack Vettriano Bird on the Wire

Jack Vettriano Bird on the WireJack Vettriano Big Bert's Favourite GirlJack Vettriano Between Darkness and Dawn
'Good. Got things to organize,' said Dibbler. 'See you tonight. The Cavern. Seven o'clock.'
He strode off.
'You know the funny thing about him?' said Glod.
'What?'that. Show business is in me soul.'
Ponder looked down at the thing they had hammered together.
'I don't understand it either,' he said. 'But . . . it looks as though we can trap it in a string, and it makes the string play the music again. It's like an iconograph for sound.'
They'd put the wire inside the box, which resonated beautifully. It played the same dozen bars, over 'The way he was smoking that sausage. Do you think he knew?'Asphalt grabbed Cliff's bag and slung it easily over his shoulder.'Let's go, boss,' he said.'An elephant sat on you?' said Buddy, as they crossed the square.'Yup. At the circus,' said Asphalt. 'I used to muck 'em arht.''That's how you got like that?''Nope. Dint get like this 'til elephants had sat on me tree, fo' times,' said the small flat troll. 'Dunno why. I'd be cleanin' up after 'em, next minute it'd all be dark.''I'd have quit after the first time, me,' said Glod.'Nah,' said Asphalt, with a contented smile. 'Couldn't do

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Jack Vettriano The Star Cafe

Jack Vettriano The Star CafeJack Vettriano The Sparrow and the HawkJack Vettriano The Smooth Operator
The Dean looked down.
'I thought you were a bit taller,' said Ridcully. 'You standing on a couple of planks?'
'They're just 'It's about your monkey,' said the man.
Ridcully brightened up.
'Oh, yes?'
'Apparently, erm, he sto‑ removed some wheels from this gentleman's carriage,' said the Bursar, who was on the depressive side of his mental cycle.
'You sure it was the Librarian?' said the Archchancellor.thick soles,' said the Dean. 'Just . . . just something the dwarfs invented, I suppose . . . dunno . . . found them in my closet . . . Modo the gardener says he thinks they're crepe.''That's strong language for Modo, but I'd say he's right enough.''No . . . it's a kind of rubbery stuff . . .' said the Dean, dismally.'Erm . . . excuse me, Archchancellor . . .'It was the Bursar, standing in the doorway. A large red‑faced man was behind him, craning over his shoulder.'What is it, Bursar?''Erm, this gentleman has got a–’

Monday, May 11, 2009

Frida Kahlo Self Portrait 1940

Frida Kahlo Self Portrait 1940Frida Kahlo My Dress Hangs ThereFrida Kahlo Diego and IDouglas Hofmann Model
the distance, towards the walls of the greater room, the metaroom or whatever it was, there was the suggestion of . . . something. Something was cast­ing complicated shadows, too far away to be clearly seen.
Susan got up on to the dais.
There was ball it swung down and thumped into the lead, just once.
She didn't try to sit in the chair. There was a deep pit in the leather. Someone had spent a lot of time sitting there.
She glanced at the spines of the books. They were in a language she couldn't understandsomething odd about the things around her. Of course, there was everything odd about the things around her, but it was a huge major oddness that was simply in their nature. She could ignore it. But there was an oddness on a human level. Every­thing was just slightly wrong, as if it had been made by someone who hadn't fully comprehended its purpose.There was a blotter on the oversize desk but it was part of it, fused to the surface. The drawers were just raised areas of wood, impossible to open. Whoever had made the desk had seen desks, but hadn't understood deskishness.There was even some sort of desk ornament. It was just a slab of lead, with a thread hanging down one side and a shiny round metal ball on the end of the thread. If you raised the

Friday, May 8, 2009

Leonardo da Vinci Madonna with Yarnwinder

Leonardo da Vinci Madonna with YarnwinderLeonardo da Vinci Madonna LittaLeonardo da Vinci Female HeadLeonardo da Vinci Annunciation
bards said they got better as they got older, although old men tend to say this sort of thing regardless of daily experience.
Imp plucked a string. The note hung in the air, and faded. The harp was fresh and bright and already it sang out like a bell. What it might other bards, who'd spent a lifetime learning how to listen to music.
But said, nevertheless. And, if they're said with the right passion and the gods are feeling bored, some­times the universe will reform itself around words like that. Words have always had the power to change the world.
Be careful what you wish for. You never know who will be listening.be like ina hundred years' time was unimaginable.His father had said it was rubbish, that the future was written in stones, not notes. That had only been the start of the row.And then he'd said things, and he'd said things, and suddenly the world was a new and unpleasant place, because things can't be unsaid.He'd said, 'You don't know anything! You're just a stupid old man! But I'm giving my life to music! One day soon everyone will say I was the greatest musician in the world!'Stupid words. As if any bard cared for any opinions except those of

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Jean Beraud A Game of Billiards

Jean Beraud A Game of BilliardsHenri Rousseau The Football PlayersPaul Cezanne Young Man with a SkullPaul Cezanne Trees in Park
just have to change back to human and smash the window.'
'I can't do that! I'd be naked!'
'Well, you're naked now, ain't you?'
'But I'm a wolf! That's different!'
'I've never worn , Lance-Constable Coalface! It a man life in the Watch!'
The squad rounded the corner.
'What's been going on?' said Angua.
'Search me. I might know more if one of 'em stops for a widdle.'
There was a small crowd around the Watch House inanything in my whole life. It's never bothered me.''The Watch House,' muttered Angua. 'There'll be something at the Watch House. Spare chainmail, at least. A sheet or something. And the door doesn't shut properly. Come on.'She trotted off along the street, with Gaspode whimpering along behind her.Someone was singing.'Blimey,' said Gaspode, 'look at that.'Four Watchmen slogged past. Two dwarfs, two trolls. Angua recognized Detritus.'Hut, hut, hut! You without doubt the horriblest recruits I ever see! Pick up them feet!''I never done nuffin!''Now you doin somefin for the first time in your horrible life

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Andy Warhol One Blue Pussy

Andy Warhol One Blue PussyAndy Warhol MarilynAndy Warhol Flowers Red 1964Andy Warhol Fiesta Pig
enthusiasts take the precaution of getting thoroughly drunk before touching the stuff, because Klatchian coffee takes you back through sobriety and, if you're not careful, out the other side, where the mind of man should not go. The Watch was generally of the opinion that Samuel Vimes was at least two drinks under par, and needed a stiff double even to be sober.
'Careful . . . careful . . .' Carrot let a few drops dribble between Vimes' lips.
'Look, when I saidVimes' grimace of horror'—half a glass of Bearhugger's. We've sent him too far the other way.'
The glass was fetched and administered. Vimes un-stiffened as it took effect.
His palm uncurled.
'Oh, my gods,' said Angua. 'Have we got any bandages?'
—' Angua began.'Forget it.' Carrot didn't even look round.'I was only—''I said forget it.'Vimes opened his eyes, took a look at the world, and screamed.'Nobby!''Yes, sarge?''Did you buy the Red Desert Special or the Curly Mountain Straight?''Red Desert, sarge, because—''You could have said. Better get me—' He glanced at

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Winslow Homer The Herring Net

Winslow Homer The Herring NetWinslow Homer The Fog WarningWinslow Homer Rowing Home
and the dwarf walked towards it, occasionally barging into each other by deliberate accident.
'Anyway, you so clever, he gave paper to me?'
'Hah! Can you read it, then? Can you?'
'No, I tell you to read it. That called del-eg-ay-shun.'
'Hah! Can't read! Can't count! Stupid troll!'
'Not stupid!''How come you read notice? Get someone to hold you up?'
They walked into the door of the Alchemists' Guild.
'I knock. My job!'
'I'll knock!'
When Mr Sendivoge, the Guild secretary, opened the door it was to find a dwarf hanging on the knocker and being swung up and down by a troll. He adjusted his crash helmet.
'Yes?' he said.
Cuddy let go.'Hah! Yes? Everyone knows trolls can't even count up to four!''Eater of rats!''How many fingers am I holding up? You tell me, Mr Clever Rocks in the Head.''Many,' Detritus hazarded.'Har har, no, five. You'll be in big trouble on payday. Sergeant Colon'11 say, stupid troll, he won't know how many dollars I give him! Hah! How come you read the notice about joining the Watch, anyway? Got someone to read it to you?'
Detritus'massive brows knitted.