Thomas Kinkade The Aspen ChapelFabian Perez Rojo Sillion III Second StateFabian Perez Balcony at Buenos Aires IIPino WHITE SANDPino WHISPERING HEART
here, that was my money, and‑‘ the Dean said, but the Lecturer in Recent Runes grabbed his arm.
‘Just come he said. ‘Odd, that. Just fog, flashing away.
The Archchancellor coughed. It was beginning to dawn on the Bursar that, against all expectation, the Archchancellor was quite bright.
‘Ever seen one of these shadow moving puppet play picture things?’ Ridcully asked.
‘The servants go,’ said the Bursar. This, Ridcully decided, meant along,’ he said, winked slowly and deliberately at the Chair. ‘Time we were getting back.’‘I don’t see why–‘the Dean gurgled, as they dragged him off. Grey clouds swirled in the Archchancellor’s magic mirror. Many wizards had them, but not many ever bothered to use them. They were quirky and unreliable. They weren’t even much good for shaving in.Ridcully was surprisingly adept at using one.‘Stalkin’,’ he offered as a brief explanation. ‘Couldn’t be having with all that crawlin’ around in damp bracken for hours, bigods. Help yourself to a drink, man. And one for me.’The clouds flickered.‘Can’t seem to see anything else,’
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Pino THE DANCER
Pino THE DANCERPino SWEET DREAMSPino SENSUALITYPino MOTHER'S LOVEPino Morning Dreams
my luck they threw me in the Ankh,’ Gaspode went on. ‘Any other river, I’d have drowned and gone to doggy heaven. I heard where this big black ghostly dog comes up to you when you die an’ says, your time has gome. Cone. Come.’
Gaspode stared at nothing much. ‘Can’t sink in the Ankh, though,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Ver’ tough river, the Ankh.’
‘Woof.’
‘It have to go.)
‘Good boy Laddie! Laddie good boy!’ barked Laddie, trotting forward obediently, if a little unsteadily.
‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere!’ muttered one of the trainers, raising a stick.
‘Don’t hit it!’ said the other trainer. ‘You’ll ruin everything.’ He peered into the alley, and met Gaspode’s stare coming the other way. shouldn’t happen to a dog,’ said Gaspode. ‘Metaphorically.’ ‘Woof.’ Gaspode peered blearily at Laddie’s bright, alert and irrevocably stupid face. ‘You don’t understand a bloody word I’ve been saying, do you?’ he muttered. ‘Woof.’ said Laddie, begging. ‘Lucky bugger,’ sighed Gaspode. There was a commotion at the other end of the alley. He heard a voice say, ‘There he is! Here, Laddie! Here, boy!’ The words dripped relief. ‘It’s the Man,’ growled Gaspode. ‘You don’t
my luck they threw me in the Ankh,’ Gaspode went on. ‘Any other river, I’d have drowned and gone to doggy heaven. I heard where this big black ghostly dog comes up to you when you die an’ says, your time has gome. Cone. Come.’
Gaspode stared at nothing much. ‘Can’t sink in the Ankh, though,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Ver’ tough river, the Ankh.’
‘Woof.’
‘It have to go.)
‘Good boy Laddie! Laddie good boy!’ barked Laddie, trotting forward obediently, if a little unsteadily.
‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere!’ muttered one of the trainers, raising a stick.
‘Don’t hit it!’ said the other trainer. ‘You’ll ruin everything.’ He peered into the alley, and met Gaspode’s stare coming the other way. shouldn’t happen to a dog,’ said Gaspode. ‘Metaphorically.’ ‘Woof.’ Gaspode peered blearily at Laddie’s bright, alert and irrevocably stupid face. ‘You don’t understand a bloody word I’ve been saying, do you?’ he muttered. ‘Woof.’ said Laddie, begging. ‘Lucky bugger,’ sighed Gaspode. There was a commotion at the other end of the alley. He heard a voice say, ‘There he is! Here, Laddie! Here, boy!’ The words dripped relief. ‘It’s the Man,’ growled Gaspode. ‘You don’t
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Paul Cezanne Flowers in a Blue Vase
Paul Cezanne Flowers in a Blue VasePaul Cezanne Five BathersPaul Cezanne Boy in a Red WaistcoatPaul Cezanne Apples Peaches Pears and GrapesLaurie Maitland Symphony in Red and Khaki II
you just hear someone say something?’ said the handler carefully.
‘No,’ said Victor. through his megaphone. ‘Now, you ride up to the tent, leap off the camel, fight the huge eunuchs, burst into the tent, drag the girl out, get back on the camel and away. Got it? Think you ran do that?’
‘What huge eunuchs?’ said Victor, as the camel unfolded itself upwards.
One of the huge eunuchs shyly raised a hand.
‘It’s me. Morry,’ it said.
‘Oh. Hi, Morry.’
‘Hi, Vic.,
‘And me, Rock,’ said a second huge eunuch.
‘Hi, Rock.’ He leaned close to one of the camel’s ears and whispered, in case it was a special Holy Wood camel: ‘Look, I’m a friend, OK?’ Evil-Minded Son of a Bitch flicked a carpet-thick ear.[11]‘How do you ride it?’ he said. ‘When you want to go forward you swear at it and hit it with a stick, and when you want to stop you swear at it and really hit it with a stick.’ ‘What happens if you want it to turn?’ ‘Ah, well, you’re on to the Advanced Manual there. Best thing to do is get off and do it round by hand.’ ‘When you’re ready!’ Dibbler bellowed
‘Hi, Vic.’
you just hear someone say something?’ said the handler carefully.
‘No,’ said Victor. through his megaphone. ‘Now, you ride up to the tent, leap off the camel, fight the huge eunuchs, burst into the tent, drag the girl out, get back on the camel and away. Got it? Think you ran do that?’
‘What huge eunuchs?’ said Victor, as the camel unfolded itself upwards.
One of the huge eunuchs shyly raised a hand.
‘It’s me. Morry,’ it said.
‘Oh. Hi, Morry.’
‘Hi, Vic.,
‘And me, Rock,’ said a second huge eunuch.
‘Hi, Rock.’ He leaned close to one of the camel’s ears and whispered, in case it was a special Holy Wood camel: ‘Look, I’m a friend, OK?’ Evil-Minded Son of a Bitch flicked a carpet-thick ear.[11]‘How do you ride it?’ he said. ‘When you want to go forward you swear at it and hit it with a stick, and when you want to stop you swear at it and really hit it with a stick.’ ‘What happens if you want it to turn?’ ‘Ah, well, you’re on to the Advanced Manual there. Best thing to do is get off and do it round by hand.’ ‘When you’re ready!’ Dibbler bellowed
‘Hi, Vic.’
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Thomas Kinkade Make a Wish Cottage
Thomas Kinkade Make a Wish CottageThomas Kinkade Key WestThomas Kinkade Golden Gate Bridge San FranciscoThomas Kinkade Evening on the AvenueThomas Kinkade Cobblestone Christmas
are?’ he ventured.
‘All this–’, Dibbler released Silverfish’s shoulder just long enough to expansively indicate the energetic chaos around them. ‘Fantastic!’ he said. ‘Marvellous! And that last thing of yours, what was it called now–?’
‘High Jinks atbeen seen by hundreds of people, yes?’
‘Thousands,’ said Silverfish.
There was no analogy for Dibbler’s grin now. If it had managed to be any wider, the top of his head would have fallen off.
‘Thousands?’ he said. ‘Really? That many? And of course they all pay you, oh, how much–?’ the Store,’ said Silverfish. ‘That’s the one where the thief steals the sausages and the shop-keeper chases him?’ ‘Yeah,’ said Dibbler, his fixed smile glazing for only a second . or two before becoming truly sincere again. ‘Yeah. That was. it. Amazing! True genius! A beautifully sustained metaphor!’ ‘That cost us nearly twenty dollars, you know,’ said Silverfish, with shy pride. ‘And another forty pence for the sausages, of course.’ ‘Amazing!’ said Dibbler. ‘And it must have
‘Oh, we just take up a collection at the moment,’ said Silverfish. ‘Just to cover costs while
are?’ he ventured.
‘All this–’, Dibbler released Silverfish’s shoulder just long enough to expansively indicate the energetic chaos around them. ‘Fantastic!’ he said. ‘Marvellous! And that last thing of yours, what was it called now–?’
‘High Jinks atbeen seen by hundreds of people, yes?’
‘Thousands,’ said Silverfish.
There was no analogy for Dibbler’s grin now. If it had managed to be any wider, the top of his head would have fallen off.
‘Thousands?’ he said. ‘Really? That many? And of course they all pay you, oh, how much–?’ the Store,’ said Silverfish. ‘That’s the one where the thief steals the sausages and the shop-keeper chases him?’ ‘Yeah,’ said Dibbler, his fixed smile glazing for only a second . or two before becoming truly sincere again. ‘Yeah. That was. it. Amazing! True genius! A beautifully sustained metaphor!’ ‘That cost us nearly twenty dollars, you know,’ said Silverfish, with shy pride. ‘And another forty pence for the sausages, of course.’ ‘Amazing!’ said Dibbler. ‘And it must have
‘Oh, we just take up a collection at the moment,’ said Silverfish. ‘Just to cover costs while
Monday, March 23, 2009
Claude Monet The Luncheon
Claude Monet The LuncheonClaude Monet SunflowersClaude Monet PoplarsJohannes Vermeer View Of DelftJohannes Vermeer The Kitchen Maid
But the multiverse is full of little dimensionettes, playstreets of creation where creatures of the imagination can romp without being knocked down by serious actuality. Sometimes, as they drift through the holes in reality, they impinge back on this universe, when they give rise to myths, legends and charges of being Drunk and creature. It exists solely because it has been imagined. It is well-known that in an infinite universe everything that can be imagined must exist somewhere, and since many of them are not things that ought to exist in a well-ordered space-time frame they get shoved into a side dimension. This may go some way to explaining the Sphinx's chronic bad temper, although any creature created with the body of a lion, bosom of a woman and wings of an eagle has a serious identity crisis and doesn't need much to make it angry.
So it had devised the Riddle. Disorderly. And it was into one of these that You Bastard, by a trivial miscalculation, had trotted. Legend had got it nearly right. The Sphinx did lurk on the borders of the kingdom. The legend just hadn't been precise about what kind of borders it was talking about. The Sphinx is an unreal
But the multiverse is full of little dimensionettes, playstreets of creation where creatures of the imagination can romp without being knocked down by serious actuality. Sometimes, as they drift through the holes in reality, they impinge back on this universe, when they give rise to myths, legends and charges of being Drunk and creature. It exists solely because it has been imagined. It is well-known that in an infinite universe everything that can be imagined must exist somewhere, and since many of them are not things that ought to exist in a well-ordered space-time frame they get shoved into a side dimension. This may go some way to explaining the Sphinx's chronic bad temper, although any creature created with the body of a lion, bosom of a woman and wings of an eagle has a serious identity crisis and doesn't need much to make it angry.
So it had devised the Riddle. Disorderly. And it was into one of these that You Bastard, by a trivial miscalculation, had trotted. Legend had got it nearly right. The Sphinx did lurk on the borders of the kingdom. The legend just hadn't been precise about what kind of borders it was talking about. The Sphinx is an unreal
Friday, March 20, 2009
William Bouguereau Innocence
William Bouguereau InnocenceBill Brauer The Gold DressUnknown Artist Muhammad Ali pop artUnknown Artist Bruce LeeUnknown Artist Audrey Hepburn
astonishment to the elaboration of a world as full of subtle distinctions of grade and station as the one he had so recently left; it was terrible to think that he might never know if Gern overcame her father's objections and won his intended, or if Dil's work on this job - on him - would allow him to aspire to the rank of Exalted Grand Ninety-Degree Variance of was now prepared to think of as his corpse.
'I think the linen,' he said at last. 'It's definitely his colour.'
Gern put his head on one side.
'He'd look good in the hessian,' he said. 'Or maybe the calico.'
'Not the calico. Definitely not the calico. On him it's too big.'
'He could moulder into it. With wear, you know.'
Dil snorted. 'Wear? Wear? You shouldn't talk to me about calico and wear. What happens if someone robs the the Matron Lodge of the Guild of Embalmers and Allied Trades. It was as if death was some astonishing optical device which turned even a drop of water into a complex hive of life. He found an overpowering urge to counsel Dil on elementary politics, or apprise Gern of the benefits of washing and looking respectable. He tried it several times. They could sense him, there was no doubt about that. But they just put it down to draughts. Now he watched Dil pad over to the big table of bandages, and come back with a thick swatch which he held reflectively against what even the king
astonishment to the elaboration of a world as full of subtle distinctions of grade and station as the one he had so recently left; it was terrible to think that he might never know if Gern overcame her father's objections and won his intended, or if Dil's work on this job - on him - would allow him to aspire to the rank of Exalted Grand Ninety-Degree Variance of was now prepared to think of as his corpse.
'I think the linen,' he said at last. 'It's definitely his colour.'
Gern put his head on one side.
'He'd look good in the hessian,' he said. 'Or maybe the calico.'
'Not the calico. Definitely not the calico. On him it's too big.'
'He could moulder into it. With wear, you know.'
Dil snorted. 'Wear? Wear? You shouldn't talk to me about calico and wear. What happens if someone robs the the Matron Lodge of the Guild of Embalmers and Allied Trades. It was as if death was some astonishing optical device which turned even a drop of water into a complex hive of life. He found an overpowering urge to counsel Dil on elementary politics, or apprise Gern of the benefits of washing and looking respectable. He tried it several times. They could sense him, there was no doubt about that. But they just put it down to draughts. Now he watched Dil pad over to the big table of bandages, and come back with a thick swatch which he held reflectively against what even the king
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Pino WHISPERING HEART
Pino WHISPERING HEARTPino THINKING OF YOUPino THE DANCERPino SWEET DREAMSPino SENSUALITY
doesn't matter. A king isn't something you're good at, it's something you are.'
'You can't leave me here! There's nothing but forests!'
Tomjon felt the suffocating cold sensation again, and the slow buzzing in his ears. For a moment he thought he saw, faint as a mist, a tall sad man in front of him, stretching out a hand in supplication.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I really am.'
Through dungeon passages, getting politer and more frantic with each passing hour.
'Um, I say? Excuse me? Billem's got this terrible thing about rats, if you don't mind. Cooeee!'the fading shape he saw the witches, watching him intently.Beside him Hwel said, 'The only chance you'd have is if there was another heir. You don't remember any brothers and sisters, do you?''I don't remember anyone! Hwel, I—'There was another ferocious argument among the witches. And then Magrat was striding, striding across the hall, moving like a tidal wave, moving like a rush of blood to the head, shaking off Granny Weatherwax's restraining hand, bearing down on the throne like a piston, and dragging the Fool behind her. 'I say?''Er. Halloee!''Er, I say, excuse me, can anyone hear us?'The castle up above was full of hubbub and general rejoicing, and there was no-one to hear the polite and frantic voices that echoed along the
doesn't matter. A king isn't something you're good at, it's something you are.'
'You can't leave me here! There's nothing but forests!'
Tomjon felt the suffocating cold sensation again, and the slow buzzing in his ears. For a moment he thought he saw, faint as a mist, a tall sad man in front of him, stretching out a hand in supplication.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I really am.'
Through dungeon passages, getting politer and more frantic with each passing hour.
'Um, I say? Excuse me? Billem's got this terrible thing about rats, if you don't mind. Cooeee!'the fading shape he saw the witches, watching him intently.Beside him Hwel said, 'The only chance you'd have is if there was another heir. You don't remember any brothers and sisters, do you?''I don't remember anyone! Hwel, I—'There was another ferocious argument among the witches. And then Magrat was striding, striding across the hall, moving like a tidal wave, moving like a rush of blood to the head, shaking off Granny Weatherwax's restraining hand, bearing down on the throne like a piston, and dragging the Fool behind her. 'I say?''Er. Halloee!''Er, I say, excuse me, can anyone hear us?'The castle up above was full of hubbub and general rejoicing, and there was no-one to hear the polite and frantic voices that echoed along the
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Jean Beraud Pont des arts
Jean Beraud Pont des artsJean Beraud Leaving La Madeleine ParisJean Beraud Le Boulevard St. Denis ParisJean Beraud Le Bal MabileJean Beraud Jeune femme traversant le boulevard
GROUNDLINGS: Yes!
KING: Now if I could just find my horsey . . .
(1st assassin pops up behind rock.)
AUDIENCE: Behind you!
(1st assassin disappears.)
KING: You're trying to play tricks on old Kingy, you naughty . . .
There was a lot of crossing out, and a large blot. Tomjon threw it aside and selected another ball at random.
KING: Is this a duck knife dagger I see behind beside in front of before me, its beak handle pointing at me my hand?
1ST MURDERER: I'faith, it is not so. Oh, no it isn't!
2ND MURDERER: Thou speakest truth, sire. Oh, yes it is!
Judging by the creases in the paper, this one had been thrown at the wall particularly hard. Hwel had once explained to
Tomjon wondered vaguely what divers alarums, which Hwel always included somewhere in the stage directions, actually were. Hwel always refused to say. Perhaps they referred to dangerous depths, or lack of air pressure.
He sidled towards the table and, with great care, pulled the sheaf of paper from under Tomjon his theory about inspirations, and by the look of it a whole shower had fallen last night.Fascinated by this insight into the creative processes, however, Tomjon tried a third discarded attempt: QUEEN: Faith, there is a sound without! Mayhap it is my husband returning! Quick, into the garderobe, and wait not upon the order of your going!MURDERER: Marry, but your maid still has my pantoufles!MAID (opening door): The Archbishop, your majesty.PRIEST (under bed): Bless my soul!(Divers alarums)
GROUNDLINGS: Yes!
KING: Now if I could just find my horsey . . .
(1st assassin pops up behind rock.)
AUDIENCE: Behind you!
(1st assassin disappears.)
KING: You're trying to play tricks on old Kingy, you naughty . . .
There was a lot of crossing out, and a large blot. Tomjon threw it aside and selected another ball at random.
KING: Is this a duck knife dagger I see behind beside in front of before me, its beak handle pointing at me my hand?
1ST MURDERER: I'faith, it is not so. Oh, no it isn't!
2ND MURDERER: Thou speakest truth, sire. Oh, yes it is!
Judging by the creases in the paper, this one had been thrown at the wall particularly hard. Hwel had once explained to
Tomjon wondered vaguely what divers alarums, which Hwel always included somewhere in the stage directions, actually were. Hwel always refused to say. Perhaps they referred to dangerous depths, or lack of air pressure.
He sidled towards the table and, with great care, pulled the sheaf of paper from under Tomjon his theory about inspirations, and by the look of it a whole shower had fallen last night.Fascinated by this insight into the creative processes, however, Tomjon tried a third discarded attempt: QUEEN: Faith, there is a sound without! Mayhap it is my husband returning! Quick, into the garderobe, and wait not upon the order of your going!MURDERER: Marry, but your maid still has my pantoufles!MAID (opening door): The Archbishop, your majesty.PRIEST (under bed): Bless my soul!(Divers alarums)
Monday, March 16, 2009
Leonardo da Vinci Leda 1530
Leonardo da Vinci Leda 1530Leonardo da Vinci Lady With An ErmineThomas Kinkade End of a Perfect DayThomas Kinkade Beacon of hopeThomas Kinkade The Sea Of Tranquility
'Excuse me,' said the Fool.
'I can't do rocks,' said Magrat.
'Well, no, rocks is an acquired taste—'
'Excuse me.'
The two witches stared at him, and he backed away.
'Weren't you supposed to be rescuing someone?' he said.
'Oh,' said appeared to be a sort of stocks.
'Took your time,' she observed. 'Let me out of this, will you? I'm getting cramp.'
And there was the dagger.
It spun gently in the middle of the room, glinting when the turning blade caught the light.
'My own dagger!' said the ghost of the king, in a voice only the witches could hear. 'All this time Granny. 'Yes. Come on, Magrat. We'd better see what she's been getting up to.''There were screams,' said the Fool, who couldn't help feeling they weren't taking things seriously enough.'I daresay,' said Granny, pushing him aside and stepping over a writhing taproot. 'If anyone locked me in a dungeon, there'd be screams.'There was a lot of dust inside the dungeon, and by the nimbus of light around its one torch Magrat could dimly make out two figures cowering in the furthest corner. Most of the furniture had been overturned and scattered across the floor; it didn't look as though any of it had been designed to be the last word in comfort. Nanny Ogg was sitting quite calmly in what
'Excuse me,' said the Fool.
'I can't do rocks,' said Magrat.
'Well, no, rocks is an acquired taste—'
'Excuse me.'
The two witches stared at him, and he backed away.
'Weren't you supposed to be rescuing someone?' he said.
'Oh,' said appeared to be a sort of stocks.
'Took your time,' she observed. 'Let me out of this, will you? I'm getting cramp.'
And there was the dagger.
It spun gently in the middle of the room, glinting when the turning blade caught the light.
'My own dagger!' said the ghost of the king, in a voice only the witches could hear. 'All this time Granny. 'Yes. Come on, Magrat. We'd better see what she's been getting up to.''There were screams,' said the Fool, who couldn't help feeling they weren't taking things seriously enough.'I daresay,' said Granny, pushing him aside and stepping over a writhing taproot. 'If anyone locked me in a dungeon, there'd be screams.'There was a lot of dust inside the dungeon, and by the nimbus of light around its one torch Magrat could dimly make out two figures cowering in the furthest corner. Most of the furniture had been overturned and scattered across the floor; it didn't look as though any of it had been designed to be the last word in comfort. Nanny Ogg was sitting quite calmly in what
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Joseph Mallord William Turner The fighting Temeraire tugged to her last berth to be broken up
Joseph Mallord William Turner The fighting Temeraire tugged to her last berth to be broken upJoseph Mallord William Turner The Burning of the Houses of ParliamentJoseph Mallord William Turner RainbowJoseph Mallord William Turner Moonlight A Study at MillbankJohn Singer Sargent The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit
suppose so, sir. Prithee.'
'Good. Where do you sleep, my Fool?'
'In the stables, sir.'
'From now on you may sleep in the corridor outside my room,' said the duke beneficently.
'Gosh!'
'And now,' said the duke, his voice dripping across the Fool like treacle over a pudding, 'tell me about witches . . .'
That night the Fool slept on good royal flagstones in the whistling corridor above the Great Hall instead of the warm stuffy straw of the stables.
'This is foolish,' he told himself. 'Marry, but is it foolish enough!'
He dozed off fitfully, into some sort of dream where a vague figure kept trying to attract his attention, and was only dimly 'You must have him executed,' she said promptly. 'To make an example to the others.'
'A course of action, my dear, which ultimately results in us ordering the last soldier to cut his own throat as an example to himself. By the way,' he added mildly, 'there would appear to be somewhat fewer servants around the place. You know I would not normally interfere—'
'Then don't,' she snapped. 'Housekeeping is under my control. I cannot abide slackness.'
'I'm sure you know best, but—'aware of the voices of Lord and Lady Felmet on the other side of the door.'It's certainly a lot less draughty,' said the duchess grudgingly.The duke sat back in the armchair and smiled at his wife.'Well?' she demanded. 'Where are the witches?''The chamberlain would appear to be right, beloved. The witches seem to have the local people in thrall. The sergeant of the guard came back empty-handed.' Handed . . . he came down heavily on the importunate thought.
suppose so, sir. Prithee.'
'Good. Where do you sleep, my Fool?'
'In the stables, sir.'
'From now on you may sleep in the corridor outside my room,' said the duke beneficently.
'Gosh!'
'And now,' said the duke, his voice dripping across the Fool like treacle over a pudding, 'tell me about witches . . .'
That night the Fool slept on good royal flagstones in the whistling corridor above the Great Hall instead of the warm stuffy straw of the stables.
'This is foolish,' he told himself. 'Marry, but is it foolish enough!'
He dozed off fitfully, into some sort of dream where a vague figure kept trying to attract his attention, and was only dimly 'You must have him executed,' she said promptly. 'To make an example to the others.'
'A course of action, my dear, which ultimately results in us ordering the last soldier to cut his own throat as an example to himself. By the way,' he added mildly, 'there would appear to be somewhat fewer servants around the place. You know I would not normally interfere—'
'Then don't,' she snapped. 'Housekeeping is under my control. I cannot abide slackness.'
'I'm sure you know best, but—'aware of the voices of Lord and Lady Felmet on the other side of the door.'It's certainly a lot less draughty,' said the duchess grudgingly.The duke sat back in the armchair and smiled at his wife.'Well?' she demanded. 'Where are the witches?''The chamberlain would appear to be right, beloved. The witches seem to have the local people in thrall. The sergeant of the guard came back empty-handed.' Handed . . . he came down heavily on the importunate thought.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Leroy Neiman Marlin Fishing
Leroy Neiman Marlin FishingLeroy Neiman Mardi Gras ParadeLeroy Neiman Lights of Broadway
chair hasn't been sat in,' Albert whined.
'Sorry, but is that important?' said Mort. 'My grandad didn't used to come home for days if he'd had a good sale at the market.'
'But he's 'Not really. I've really only done the practical side. He said he'd tell me about the theoretical stuff later,' said Mort. Ysabell burst into tears.
Albert took Mort's arm and, with considerable dramatic waggling of his eyebrows, indicated that they should have a little talk in the corner. Mort trailed after him reluctantly.always here,' said Albert. 'Every morning, as long as I've known him, sitting here at his desk a-working on the nodes. It's his job. He wouldn't miss it.''I expect the nodes can look after themselves for a day or two,' said Mort.The drop in temperature told him he was wrong. He looked at their faces.They can't?' he said.Both heads shook.'If the nodes aren't worked out properly all the Balance is destroyed,' said Ysabell. 'Anything could happen.''Didn't he explain?' said Albert.
chair hasn't been sat in,' Albert whined.
'Sorry, but is that important?' said Mort. 'My grandad didn't used to come home for days if he'd had a good sale at the market.'
'But he's 'Not really. I've really only done the practical side. He said he'd tell me about the theoretical stuff later,' said Mort. Ysabell burst into tears.
Albert took Mort's arm and, with considerable dramatic waggling of his eyebrows, indicated that they should have a little talk in the corner. Mort trailed after him reluctantly.always here,' said Albert. 'Every morning, as long as I've known him, sitting here at his desk a-working on the nodes. It's his job. He wouldn't miss it.''I expect the nodes can look after themselves for a day or two,' said Mort.The drop in temperature told him he was wrong. He looked at their faces.They can't?' he said.Both heads shook.'If the nodes aren't worked out properly all the Balance is destroyed,' said Ysabell. 'Anything could happen.''Didn't he explain?' said Albert.
Vincent van Gogh Girl in White
Vincent van Gogh Girl in WhiteVincent van Gogh Four Cut SunflowersVincent van Gogh Fishing Boats on the Beach
'May as well.'
'Well, there's a coincidence!'
'Death number three?'
'Right. Is this a special pack for conjuring tricks?' Keli tried to sound composed, but even she could detect the faint not' lacked a certain style, while 'Is it serious?' seemed somehow too frivolous.
'Did I say I thought this was going to be serious?' said Cutwell.
'I think you did,' said Keli carefully, keeping her tone totally level.tinkle of hysteria in her voice.Cutwell frowned at her and carefully put the cards back in the pack, shuffled it, and dealt them out on to the table. There was only one Death.'Oh dear,' he said, 'I think this is going to be serious. May I see the palm of your hand, please?'He examined it for a long time. Alter a while he went to the dresser, took a jeweller's eyeglass out of a drawer, wiped the porridge off it with the sleeve of his robe, and spent another few minutes examining her hand in minutest detail. Eventually he sat back, removed the glass, and stared at her.'You're dead,' he said.Keli waited. She couldn't think of any suitable reply. 'I'm
'May as well.'
'Well, there's a coincidence!'
'Death number three?'
'Right. Is this a special pack for conjuring tricks?' Keli tried to sound composed, but even she could detect the faint not' lacked a certain style, while 'Is it serious?' seemed somehow too frivolous.
'Did I say I thought this was going to be serious?' said Cutwell.
'I think you did,' said Keli carefully, keeping her tone totally level.tinkle of hysteria in her voice.Cutwell frowned at her and carefully put the cards back in the pack, shuffled it, and dealt them out on to the table. There was only one Death.'Oh dear,' he said, 'I think this is going to be serious. May I see the palm of your hand, please?'He examined it for a long time. Alter a while he went to the dresser, took a jeweller's eyeglass out of a drawer, wiped the porridge off it with the sleeve of his robe, and spent another few minutes examining her hand in minutest detail. Eventually he sat back, removed the glass, and stared at her.'You're dead,' he said.Keli waited. She couldn't think of any suitable reply. 'I'm
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Rene Magritte The Son of Man
Rene Magritte The Son of ManMarc Chagall I and the VillageMarc Chagall Birthday
you hear what I said, boy?'
Mort nodded. And then it'll be fourteen more barrows, only call it fifteen because I haven't swept up properly in the corner, and. . . .
'Have you lost your tongue?'
'Mort,' said Mort mildly.
She looked Death, you know. The Grim Reaper. He's very important. He's not something you become, he's something you are.'
Mort gestured vaguely at the wheelbarrow.
'I expect it'll turn out for the best,' he said. 'My father always says things generally do.'
He picked up the shovel and turned away, and grinned at the horse's backside at him furiously. 'What?''My name is Mort,' said Mort. 'Or Mortimer. Most people call me Mort. Did you want to talk to me about something?'She was speechless for a moment, staring from his face to the shovel and back again.'Only I've been told to get on with this,' said Mort.She exploded.'Why are you here? Why did Father bring you here?''He hired me at the hiring fair,' said Mort. 'All the boys got hired. And me.''And you wanted to be hired?' she snapped. 'He's
you hear what I said, boy?'
Mort nodded. And then it'll be fourteen more barrows, only call it fifteen because I haven't swept up properly in the corner, and. . . .
'Have you lost your tongue?'
'Mort,' said Mort mildly.
She looked Death, you know. The Grim Reaper. He's very important. He's not something you become, he's something you are.'
Mort gestured vaguely at the wheelbarrow.
'I expect it'll turn out for the best,' he said. 'My father always says things generally do.'
He picked up the shovel and turned away, and grinned at the horse's backside at him furiously. 'What?''My name is Mort,' said Mort. 'Or Mortimer. Most people call me Mort. Did you want to talk to me about something?'She was speechless for a moment, staring from his face to the shovel and back again.'Only I've been told to get on with this,' said Mort.She exploded.'Why are you here? Why did Father bring you here?''He hired me at the hiring fair,' said Mort. 'All the boys got hired. And me.''And you wanted to be hired?' she snapped. 'He's
Monday, March 9, 2009
Joseph Mallord William Turner Mortlake Terrace
Joseph Mallord William Turner Mortlake TerraceJoseph Mallord William Turner Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western RailwayGustave Courbet Marine
broomstick purposefully.
"Million-to-one chances," she said, "crop up nine times out of ten."
There are storms that are frankly theatrical, all sheet lightning and metallic thunder rolls. There are storms that are tropical and sultry, and incline to hot winds and fireballs. But this was a storm of the Circle Sea plains, and its main "Have a heart, madam."
"Are you sure she would have come this way?"
"There's a sort of jetty thing down here somewhere, unless I'm lost."
There was the sound of a heavy body blundering wetly into a bush, and then a splash.
"I've found the river, anyway."ambition was to hit the ground with as much rain as possible. It was the kind of storm that suggests that the whole sky has swallowed a diuretic. The thunder and lightning hung around in the background, supplying a sort of chorus, but the rain was the star of the show. It tap-danced across the land. The grounds of the University stretched right down to the river. By day they were a neat formal pattern of gravel paths and hedges, but in the middle of a wet wild night the hedges seemed to have moved and the paths had simply gone off somewhere to stay dry. A weak wyrdlight shone inefficiently among the dripping leaves. But most of the rain found its way through anyway. "Can you use one of them wizard fireballs?"
broomstick purposefully.
"Million-to-one chances," she said, "crop up nine times out of ten."
There are storms that are frankly theatrical, all sheet lightning and metallic thunder rolls. There are storms that are tropical and sultry, and incline to hot winds and fireballs. But this was a storm of the Circle Sea plains, and its main "Have a heart, madam."
"Are you sure she would have come this way?"
"There's a sort of jetty thing down here somewhere, unless I'm lost."
There was the sound of a heavy body blundering wetly into a bush, and then a splash.
"I've found the river, anyway."ambition was to hit the ground with as much rain as possible. It was the kind of storm that suggests that the whole sky has swallowed a diuretic. The thunder and lightning hung around in the background, supplying a sort of chorus, but the rain was the star of the show. It tap-danced across the land. The grounds of the University stretched right down to the river. By day they were a neat formal pattern of gravel paths and hedges, but in the middle of a wet wild night the hedges seemed to have moved and the paths had simply gone off somewhere to stay dry. A weak wyrdlight shone inefficiently among the dripping leaves. But most of the rain found its way through anyway. "Can you use one of them wizard fireballs?"
Thomas Kinkade Boston
Thomas Kinkade BostonEdward Hopper Soir BleuEdward Hopper Cape Cod Morning
have called it "a nice way of saying something nasty".
Their rigid adherence to the truth was apparently not enjoined on them by a god, as is usually the case, but appeared to quite tall," but eventually they got the hang of it and the office of tribal Liar was instituted.
It must be understood that while the majority of Zoon cannot lie they have great respect for any Zoon who can say that the world is other than it is, and the Liar holds a position of considerable have a genetic base. The average Zoon could no more tell a lie than breathe underwater and, in fact, the very concept was enough to upset them considerably; telling a Lie meant no less than totally altering the universe. This was something of a drawback to a trading race and so, over the millennia, the elders of the Zoon studied this strange power that everyone else had in such abundance and decided that they should possess it too. Young men who showed faint signs of having such a talent were encouraged, on special ceremonial occasions, to bend the Truth ever further on a competitive basis. The first recorded Zoon proto-lie was: "Actually my grandfather is
have called it "a nice way of saying something nasty".
Their rigid adherence to the truth was apparently not enjoined on them by a god, as is usually the case, but appeared to quite tall," but eventually they got the hang of it and the office of tribal Liar was instituted.
It must be understood that while the majority of Zoon cannot lie they have great respect for any Zoon who can say that the world is other than it is, and the Liar holds a position of considerable have a genetic base. The average Zoon could no more tell a lie than breathe underwater and, in fact, the very concept was enough to upset them considerably; telling a Lie meant no less than totally altering the universe. This was something of a drawback to a trading race and so, over the millennia, the elders of the Zoon studied this strange power that everyone else had in such abundance and decided that they should possess it too. Young men who showed faint signs of having such a talent were encouraged, on special ceremonial occasions, to bend the Truth ever further on a competitive basis. The first recorded Zoon proto-lie was: "Actually my grandfather is
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Tamara de Lempicka Dormeuse
Tamara de Lempicka DormeuseTamara de Lempicka AndromedaTamara de Lempicka Adam and Eve
I've come about the girl, Esk, she hissed.
A promising child, thought the tree, I'm watching her with interest. She likes apples, too.
You beast, said Granny, shocked.
What did I say? Pardon me for not breathing, I'm sure.
Granny sidled closer to the trunk.
You must let her go, she thought. The magic is starting to come through.
Already? I'm impressed, said the tree.
It's the wrong sort of magic!, screeched Granny. It's wizard magic, not women's magic! She doesn't know what it is yet, up and down on her branch.
Well? Who says women can't be wizards?
Granny hesitated. The tree might as well have asked why fish couldn't be birds. She drew a deep breath, and started to speak. And stopped. She knew a cutting, incisive, withering and above all a self-evident answer existed. It was just that, to her extreme annoyance, she couldn't quite bring it to mind.but it killed a dozen wolves tonight! Great! said the tree. Granny hooted with rage. Great? Supposing she had been arguing with her brothers, and lost her temper, eh? The tree shrugged. Snowflakes cascaded from its branches. Then you must train her, it said. Train? What do I know from training wizards! Then send her to university. She's female!, hooted Granny, bouncing
Women have never been wizards. It's against nature. You might as well say that witches
I've come about the girl, Esk, she hissed.
A promising child, thought the tree, I'm watching her with interest. She likes apples, too.
You beast, said Granny, shocked.
What did I say? Pardon me for not breathing, I'm sure.
Granny sidled closer to the trunk.
You must let her go, she thought. The magic is starting to come through.
Already? I'm impressed, said the tree.
It's the wrong sort of magic!, screeched Granny. It's wizard magic, not women's magic! She doesn't know what it is yet, up and down on her branch.
Well? Who says women can't be wizards?
Granny hesitated. The tree might as well have asked why fish couldn't be birds. She drew a deep breath, and started to speak. And stopped. She knew a cutting, incisive, withering and above all a self-evident answer existed. It was just that, to her extreme annoyance, she couldn't quite bring it to mind.but it killed a dozen wolves tonight! Great! said the tree. Granny hooted with rage. Great? Supposing she had been arguing with her brothers, and lost her temper, eh? The tree shrugged. Snowflakes cascaded from its branches. Then you must train her, it said. Train? What do I know from training wizards! Then send her to university. She's female!, hooted Granny, bouncing
Women have never been wizards. It's against nature. You might as well say that witches
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
John William Godward Summer Flowers
John William Godward Summer FlowersJohn William Godward Absence Makes the Heart Grow FonderJohn William Waterhouse In the PeristyleJohn William Waterhouse Gather Ye Rosebuds while ye may
'We killed all our wizards,' said one of the men. 'Some ran away, but we killed quite a lot. They waved their hands and nothing came out.'
Rincewind stared at him.
'And we think you're a wizard too,' said the man holding Rincewind in an ever-tightening grip. 'You've got the box the man. 'The star has taken it away. All the false wizards said their funny words and then nothing happened and they looked at their hands in horror and very few of them, in fact, had the sense to run away.'
'I mean it!' said Rincewind.
He's going to kill me, he thought. That's it. I can't even bluff any more. No good at magic, no good at bluffing, I'm just a —on legs and you look like a wizard.'Rincewind became aware that the three of them and the Luggage had somehow become separated from their horses, and that they were now in a contracting circle of grey-faced, solemn people.Bethan had gone pale. Even Twoflower, whose ability to recognise danger was as good as Rincewind's ability to fly, was looking worried.Rincewind took a deep breath.He raised his hands in the classic pose he'd learned years before, and rasped, 'Stand back! Or I'll fill you full of magic!''The magic has faded,' said
'We killed all our wizards,' said one of the men. 'Some ran away, but we killed quite a lot. They waved their hands and nothing came out.'
Rincewind stared at him.
'And we think you're a wizard too,' said the man holding Rincewind in an ever-tightening grip. 'You've got the box the man. 'The star has taken it away. All the false wizards said their funny words and then nothing happened and they looked at their hands in horror and very few of them, in fact, had the sense to run away.'
'I mean it!' said Rincewind.
He's going to kill me, he thought. That's it. I can't even bluff any more. No good at magic, no good at bluffing, I'm just a —on legs and you look like a wizard.'Rincewind became aware that the three of them and the Luggage had somehow become separated from their horses, and that they were now in a contracting circle of grey-faced, solemn people.Bethan had gone pale. Even Twoflower, whose ability to recognise danger was as good as Rincewind's ability to fly, was looking worried.Rincewind took a deep breath.He raised his hands in the classic pose he'd learned years before, and rasped, 'Stand back! Or I'll fill you full of magic!''The magic has faded,' said
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Juan Gris Guitar on a Table
Juan Gris Guitar on a TableJuan Gris Guitar and Music PapeJuan Gris Fantomas Pipe and NewspaperGeorge Bellows The Picnic
creation and had formulated the following theory:
The universe, they said, depended for its operation on the balance of four forces which they identified as charm, persuasion, uncertainty and bloody-mindedness.
Thus it was that the sun and moon orbited the disc because they were persuaded not to fall down, but didn't actually fly away because of uncertainty. Charm allowed trees to grow and bloody-mindedness kept them up, and read the manual.' He shrugged.
'What use is it, then, exactly?' asked Rincewind. Anything to keep his mind off the drop below.
'You can use it to – to tell you what time of year it is,' said Belafon.so on.Some druids suggested that there were certain flaws in this theory, but senior druids explained very pointedly that there was indeed room for informed argument, the cut and thrust of exciting scientific debate, and basically it lay on top of the next solstice bonfire. 'Ah, so you're an astronomer?' said Twoflower.'Oh no,' said Belafon, as the rock drifted gently around the curve of a mountain, I'm a , this is,' said the druid, tapping the rock with a sandalled foot.'Part of one, anyway. It's a replacement. I'm delivering it. They're having trouble with the big circles up on the Vortex Plains. So they say, anyway; I wished I had a bronze tore for every user who didn't
creation and had formulated the following theory:
The universe, they said, depended for its operation on the balance of four forces which they identified as charm, persuasion, uncertainty and bloody-mindedness.
Thus it was that the sun and moon orbited the disc because they were persuaded not to fall down, but didn't actually fly away because of uncertainty. Charm allowed trees to grow and bloody-mindedness kept them up, and read the manual.' He shrugged.
'What use is it, then, exactly?' asked Rincewind. Anything to keep his mind off the drop below.
'You can use it to – to tell you what time of year it is,' said Belafon.so on.Some druids suggested that there were certain flaws in this theory, but senior druids explained very pointedly that there was indeed room for informed argument, the cut and thrust of exciting scientific debate, and basically it lay on top of the next solstice bonfire. 'Ah, so you're an astronomer?' said Twoflower.'Oh no,' said Belafon, as the rock drifted gently around the curve of a mountain, I'm a , this is,' said the druid, tapping the rock with a sandalled foot.'Part of one, anyway. It's a replacement. I'm delivering it. They're having trouble with the big circles up on the Vortex Plains. So they say, anyway; I wished I had a bronze tore for every user who didn't
Monday, March 2, 2009
William Blake the Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve
William Blake the Body of Abel Found by Adam and EveVincent van Gogh Vase with Twelve SunflowersVincent van Gogh Vase with Daisies and AnemonesVincent van Gogh The Starry Night 2
And ahead of Rincewind were a couple of very surprised wizards wearing the distinctive dark blue and black robes of trained hydrophobes. One of them, quicker on the uptake than his companion, raised a hand and began the first words of a spell.
There was a leaving the remaining hydrophobe writhing on the floor and snatching at his damp hand. For a while there was some shouting behind them, but they scuttled along a cross corridor and another courtyard and soon left the sounds of pursuit behind. Finally Rincewind picked a safe looking door, peered around it, found short sharp noise by Rincewind's side. Twoflower had spat. The hydrophobe screamed and dropped his hand as though it had been stung.The other didn't have time to move before Rincewind was on him, fists swinging wildly. One stiff punch with the weight of terror behind it sent the man tumbling over the balcony rail and into the pond, which did a very strange thing; the water smacked aside as though a large invisible balloon had been dropped into it, and the hydrophobe hung screaming in his own revulsion field.Twoflower watched him in amazement until Rincewind snatched at his shoulder and indicated a likely looking passage. They hurried down it,
And ahead of Rincewind were a couple of very surprised wizards wearing the distinctive dark blue and black robes of trained hydrophobes. One of them, quicker on the uptake than his companion, raised a hand and began the first words of a spell.
There was a leaving the remaining hydrophobe writhing on the floor and snatching at his damp hand. For a while there was some shouting behind them, but they scuttled along a cross corridor and another courtyard and soon left the sounds of pursuit behind. Finally Rincewind picked a safe looking door, peered around it, found short sharp noise by Rincewind's side. Twoflower had spat. The hydrophobe screamed and dropped his hand as though it had been stung.The other didn't have time to move before Rincewind was on him, fists swinging wildly. One stiff punch with the weight of terror behind it sent the man tumbling over the balcony rail and into the pond, which did a very strange thing; the water smacked aside as though a large invisible balloon had been dropped into it, and the hydrophobe hung screaming in his own revulsion field.Twoflower watched him in amazement until Rincewind snatched at his shoulder and indicated a likely looking passage. They hurried down it,
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Edgar Degas Dancer
Edgar Degas DancerWilliam Beard So You Wanna Get MarriedWilliam Beard Phantom CraneWilliam Beard Owls
looked up and down the corridor. It was empty.
The dragon followed. The heavy door frame caused it some minor difficulty, which it overcame with a swing of its shoulders that tore the timber out and tossed it to one side. The creature looked expectantly at Twoflower, its skin "But I've thought about dragons all my life."
In this place the frontier between thought and reality is probably a little confused. All I know is that once I was not, and then you thought of me, and then I was. Therefore, of course, I am yours to command.
"Good grief"
Half a dozen guards chose that moment to turn the rippling and twitching as it sought to open its wings in the confines of the passage."How did you get in there?" said Twoflower.You summoned me, master."I don't remember doing that."In your mind. You called me up, in, your mind thought the dragon, patiently."You mean I just thought of you and there You were?"Yes."It was magic?"Yes.
looked up and down the corridor. It was empty.
The dragon followed. The heavy door frame caused it some minor difficulty, which it overcame with a swing of its shoulders that tore the timber out and tossed it to one side. The creature looked expectantly at Twoflower, its skin "But I've thought about dragons all my life."
In this place the frontier between thought and reality is probably a little confused. All I know is that once I was not, and then you thought of me, and then I was. Therefore, of course, I am yours to command.
"Good grief"
Half a dozen guards chose that moment to turn the rippling and twitching as it sought to open its wings in the confines of the passage."How did you get in there?" said Twoflower.You summoned me, master."I don't remember doing that."In your mind. You called me up, in, your mind thought the dragon, patiently."You mean I just thought of you and there You were?"Yes."It was magic?"Yes.
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