Caravaggio The Entombment of Christ
only one step away from mime artists, too.'No, sir,' he said. 'It was obviously an acddent, right?''Quite so. Brother Boffo will show you to the door,' said the head clown. 'And then,' he added, 'he will report to my office. Does he understand?''Yes, Dr have it out
Caravaggio Boy with a Basket of Fruit
think that is Guild business, sergeant. Don't you?''Well, sir, he was found in the—''I am sure it is something we don't need to bother the Watch with,' said Dr Whiteface.Colon hesitated. He'd prefer to face Dr Cruces than this apparition. At least the Assassins were supposed to be unpleasant. Clowns,
Bartolome Esteban Murillo Annunciation
Whiteface,' mumbled Boffo.'What'll he do to you?' said Nobby, as they headed for the gate.'Hat full of whitewash, probably,' said Boffo. 'Pie inna face if I'm lucky.'He opened the wicket gate.'A lot of us ain't happy about this,' he whispered. 'I don't see why those buggers should get away with it. We ought to go round to the Assassins and
William Bouguereau The Song of the Angels
why are you here?'
'Investigating our inquiries as to the fatal demise of the down Beano, sir,' said Colon.
'I rather were with them.'
'Why the Assassins?' said Colon. 'Why would they kill a down?'
Boffo looked guilty. 'I never said a thing!'
Colon glared at him. 'There's definitely something odd happening, Mr Boffo.'
Boffo looked around, as if expecting a vengeful
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
George Inness The Coming Storm
George Inness The Coming StormGeorge Inness SunsetGeorge Inness Peace and PlentyGeorge Inness Delaware Water Gap
woodlands to enable future generations to appreciate the sublime beauty of wild Nature transformed by Man. There have been the high spot, if such it could be called, of his career. For example, they contained the ornamental trout lake, one hundred and fifty yards long and, because of one of those trifling errors of notation that were such a distinctive feature of Bloody Stupid's designs, one inch wide. It was the home of one trout, which was quite comfortable provided it didn't try to turn around, and had once featured an ornate fountain which, when first switched on, did nothing but groan ominously for five minutes and then fire a small stone cherub a thousand feet into the air.
It contained the hoho, which was like a haha only deeper. A haha is a concealed ditch Capability Brown, Sagacity Smith, Intuition De Vere Slade-Gore . . .In Ankh-Morpork, there was Bloody Stupid Johnson.Bloody Stupid 'It Might Look A Bit Messy Now But Just You Come Back In Five Hundred Years' Time' Johnson. Bloody Stupid 'Look, The Plans Were The Right Way Round When I Drew Them' Johnson. Bloody Stupid Johnson, who had 2,000 tons of earth built into an artificial hillock in front of Quirm Manor because 'It'd drive me mad to have to look at a bunch of trees and mountains all day long, how about you?'The Ankh-Morpork palace grounds were considered
woodlands to enable future generations to appreciate the sublime beauty of wild Nature transformed by Man. There have been the high spot, if such it could be called, of his career. For example, they contained the ornamental trout lake, one hundred and fifty yards long and, because of one of those trifling errors of notation that were such a distinctive feature of Bloody Stupid's designs, one inch wide. It was the home of one trout, which was quite comfortable provided it didn't try to turn around, and had once featured an ornate fountain which, when first switched on, did nothing but groan ominously for five minutes and then fire a small stone cherub a thousand feet into the air.
It contained the hoho, which was like a haha only deeper. A haha is a concealed ditch Capability Brown, Sagacity Smith, Intuition De Vere Slade-Gore . . .In Ankh-Morpork, there was Bloody Stupid Johnson.Bloody Stupid 'It Might Look A Bit Messy Now But Just You Come Back In Five Hundred Years' Time' Johnson. Bloody Stupid 'Look, The Plans Were The Right Way Round When I Drew Them' Johnson. Bloody Stupid Johnson, who had 2,000 tons of earth built into an artificial hillock in front of Quirm Manor because 'It'd drive me mad to have to look at a bunch of trees and mountains all day long, how about you?'The Ankh-Morpork palace grounds were considered
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Mark Spain Carmen
Mark Spain CarmenMark Spain Burning DesireMark Spain Blue Dress On GoldMark Spain After HoursMark Spain A Moment Of Tranquility
Some were going to die. She’d sensed their future deaths . . . the deaths of Esme Weatherwax. And couldn’t save them, because chance did not work like that.
On a million hillsides the girl ran, on a million bridges the girl chose, on a million paths the woman stood. ..
All different, all one“What about the lovely red and white pair I gave you on Hogswatchnight? I knitted ‘em myself. You know how I hates knitting.”
“Well, it’s a warm night. I likes to, you know, let the air circulate.”
“I had the devil of a time with the heels.”
“Sorry, Esme.”.All she could do for all of them was be herself, here and now, as hard as she could.She stuck out a hand.A few yards away the unicorn hit an invisible wall. Its legs flailed as it tried to stop, its body contorted in pain, and it slid the rest of the way to Granny’s feet on its back.“Gytha,” said Granny, as the beast tried to get upright, “you’ll take off your stockings and knot ‘em into a halter and pass it to me carefully.”“Esme...”“What?”“Ain’t got no stockings on, Esme.”
Some were going to die. She’d sensed their future deaths . . . the deaths of Esme Weatherwax. And couldn’t save them, because chance did not work like that.
On a million hillsides the girl ran, on a million bridges the girl chose, on a million paths the woman stood. ..
All different, all one“What about the lovely red and white pair I gave you on Hogswatchnight? I knitted ‘em myself. You know how I hates knitting.”
“Well, it’s a warm night. I likes to, you know, let the air circulate.”
“I had the devil of a time with the heels.”
“Sorry, Esme.”.All she could do for all of them was be herself, here and now, as hard as she could.She stuck out a hand.A few yards away the unicorn hit an invisible wall. Its legs flailed as it tried to stop, its body contorted in pain, and it slid the rest of the way to Granny’s feet on its back.“Gytha,” said Granny, as the beast tried to get upright, “you’ll take off your stockings and knot ‘em into a halter and pass it to me carefully.”“Esme...”“What?”“Ain’t got no stockings on, Esme.”
Friday, April 24, 2009
Marc Chagall Adam and Eve
Marc Chagall Adam and EveMarc Chagall La MarieePaul Gauguin Yellow ChristPaul Gauguin Where Do We Come From
me. Now, elves is worse than me, I’ll admit. But I’m persistent.”
Weaver put up a tentative hand.
“Please, Mrs. Ogg?”
270
LQRD6 fiND LfiDIEQ
“Yes, Weaver?”
“What exactly is the action of the Reciprocating Fox?”
Nanny scratched her ear.
“As I recall,” she said, “its back legs go like this but its front legs go like this.”
“No, no, no,” said Quamey the storekeeper. “It’s its tail that goes like that. Its legs go like this.”
“That’s not reciprocating, that’s just oscillating,” said someone. “You’re thinking of the Ring-tailed Ocelot.”
Nanny nodded.
“I’ll just stroll along behind,” said Nanny.
“Oh. Well. Maybe as far as the jaws of hell, then.”
“Amazing,” said Casanunda to Nanny, as the crowd filed reluctantly toward the armory.
“You just got to know how to deal with people.”
“They’ll follow where an Ogg leads?”
“Not exactly,” said Nanny, “but if they know what’s good for ‘em they’ll go where an Ogg follows.”
Magrat stepped out from under the trees, and the moorland
lay ahead of her.
A whirlpool of cloud swirled over the Dancers, or at
least, over the place where the Dancers had been. She
me. Now, elves is worse than me, I’ll admit. But I’m persistent.”
Weaver put up a tentative hand.
“Please, Mrs. Ogg?”
270
LQRD6 fiND LfiDIEQ
“Yes, Weaver?”
“What exactly is the action of the Reciprocating Fox?”
Nanny scratched her ear.
“As I recall,” she said, “its back legs go like this but its front legs go like this.”
“No, no, no,” said Quamey the storekeeper. “It’s its tail that goes like that. Its legs go like this.”
“That’s not reciprocating, that’s just oscillating,” said someone. “You’re thinking of the Ring-tailed Ocelot.”
Nanny nodded.
“I’ll just stroll along behind,” said Nanny.
“Oh. Well. Maybe as far as the jaws of hell, then.”
“Amazing,” said Casanunda to Nanny, as the crowd filed reluctantly toward the armory.
“You just got to know how to deal with people.”
“They’ll follow where an Ogg leads?”
“Not exactly,” said Nanny, “but if they know what’s good for ‘em they’ll go where an Ogg follows.”
Magrat stepped out from under the trees, and the moorland
lay ahead of her.
A whirlpool of cloud swirled over the Dancers, or at
least, over the place where the Dancers had been. She
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Henri Fantin-Latour Still Life With Flowers And Fruit
Henri Fantin-Latour Still Life With Flowers And FruitFilippino Lippi Adoration of the ChildFilippino Lippi Madonna with Child and SaintsLouis Aston Knight A Riverside Cottage
climbing equivalent knocked his hat off.
What made it worse was that Esme Weatherwax seemed to avoid all of them.
“How do you manage that?”
“I just know where I am all the time,” said Granny.
“Well? I know where / am, too.”
“No you don’t. You just happen to be present. That’s not the same.”
“Well, do you happen to know where a proper path is?”
“This is a “Wait a minute!”
“Entirely the wrong sort of clothes for the country!”
“I wasn’t expecting a hike through the woods! This is ceremonial damn costume!”short cut.”“Between two places where you’re not lost, d’you mean?”“I keep tellin’ you, I ain’t lost! I’m . . . directionally chal-lenged.”“Hah!”But it was a fact about Esme Weatherwax, he had to admit. She might be lost, and he had reason to suspect this was the case now, unless there were in this forest two trees with exactly the same arrangement of branches and a strip of his robe caught on one of them, but she did have a quality that in anyone not wearing a battered pointy hat and an antique black dress might have been called poise. Absolute poise. It would be hard to imagine her making an awkward movement unless she wanted to.LQRD6 fittO Lft0/£6He’d seen that years ago, although of course at the time he’d just been amazed at the way her shape fitted perfectly into the space around it. And—He’d got caught up again.
climbing equivalent knocked his hat off.
What made it worse was that Esme Weatherwax seemed to avoid all of them.
“How do you manage that?”
“I just know where I am all the time,” said Granny.
“Well? I know where / am, too.”
“No you don’t. You just happen to be present. That’s not the same.”
“Well, do you happen to know where a proper path is?”
“This is a “Wait a minute!”
“Entirely the wrong sort of clothes for the country!”
“I wasn’t expecting a hike through the woods! This is ceremonial damn costume!”short cut.”“Between two places where you’re not lost, d’you mean?”“I keep tellin’ you, I ain’t lost! I’m . . . directionally chal-lenged.”“Hah!”But it was a fact about Esme Weatherwax, he had to admit. She might be lost, and he had reason to suspect this was the case now, unless there were in this forest two trees with exactly the same arrangement of branches and a strip of his robe caught on one of them, but she did have a quality that in anyone not wearing a battered pointy hat and an antique black dress might have been called poise. Absolute poise. It would be hard to imagine her making an awkward movement unless she wanted to.LQRD6 fittO Lft0/£6He’d seen that years ago, although of course at the time he’d just been amazed at the way her shape fitted perfectly into the space around it. And—He’d got caught up again.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Henri Matisse View of Collioure
Henri Matisse View of CollioureHenri Matisse The Painter's FamilyHenri Matisse The Blue Window
really come in handy, I can tell you. I mean, I’ve picked up
bits and pieces here and there, but—“
Verence snatched the book from Shawn’s hands and looked at the title page.
“’Martial Arts”? Martial Arts. But I’m sure I wrote Marit—“
“Sire?”have tried to describe a hangover. Dancing elephants and so on are often employed for this purpose. The descriptions never work. The always smack of, hoho, here’s one for the lads, let’s have some hangover machismo, hoho, landlord, another nineteen pints of lager, hey, we supped some stuff last night, hoho ...
Anyway, you can’t describe a scumble hangover. The best bit of it is a feeling that your teeth have dissolved and coated themselves on your tongue.
Eventually the blacksmith sat up and opened his eyes.There was one exquisite moment while Verence fought for mental balance, but he won.“Ah. Yes. Right. Uh. Well, yes. Uh. Of course. Yes. Well, you see, a well-trained army is ... is essential to the security of any kingdom. That’s right. Yes. Fine. Magrat and me, we thought... yes. It’s for you, Shawn.”“I’ll start practicing right away, sire!”“Um. Good.”Jason Ogg awoke, and wished he hadn’t.Let’s be clear. Many authorities
really come in handy, I can tell you. I mean, I’ve picked up
bits and pieces here and there, but—“
Verence snatched the book from Shawn’s hands and looked at the title page.
“’Martial Arts”? Martial Arts. But I’m sure I wrote Marit—“
“Sire?”have tried to describe a hangover. Dancing elephants and so on are often employed for this purpose. The descriptions never work. The always smack of, hoho, here’s one for the lads, let’s have some hangover machismo, hoho, landlord, another nineteen pints of lager, hey, we supped some stuff last night, hoho ...
Anyway, you can’t describe a scumble hangover. The best bit of it is a feeling that your teeth have dissolved and coated themselves on your tongue.
Eventually the blacksmith sat up and opened his eyes.There was one exquisite moment while Verence fought for mental balance, but he won.“Ah. Yes. Right. Uh. Well, yes. Uh. Of course. Yes. Well, you see, a well-trained army is ... is essential to the security of any kingdom. That’s right. Yes. Fine. Magrat and me, we thought... yes. It’s for you, Shawn.”“I’ll start practicing right away, sire!”“Um. Good.”Jason Ogg awoke, and wished he hadn’t.Let’s be clear. Many authorities
Monday, April 20, 2009
Caravaggio Beheading of Saint John the Baptist
Caravaggio Beheading of Saint John the BaptistJohannes Vermeer Woman with a Pearl NecklaceJohannes Vermeer Saint Praxidis
They gets in the way of education. All them books. Books?
What good are they? There’s too much reading these days. We never had time to read when we was young, I know that.”
“We were too busy makin’ our own entertainment.”
“Right. Come on—we ain’t got much time.”
“What d’you mean?”
“It’s not just the girls. There’s something out there, too.
Some kind of their eyes. Granny Weatherwax had many times flicked through the channels of consciousness around her. It was, to her, part of the heart of witchcraft. To see through other eyes . ..
. . . through the eyes of gnats, seeing the slow patterns of time in the fast pattern of one day, their minds traveling rapidly as lightning...
... to listen with the body of a beetle, so that the world is a three-dimensional pattern of mind, movin’ around.”Granny shivered. She’d been aware of it in the same way that a skilled hunter, moving through the hills, is aware of another hunter—by the silences where there should have been noise, by the trampling of a stem, by the anger of the bees.Nanny Ogg had never liked the idea of Borrowing, and Magrat had always refused even to give it a try. The old witches on the other side of the mountain had too much trouble with inconvenient in-body experiences to cope with the out-of-body kind. So Granny was used to having the mental dimension to herself.There was a mind moving around in the kingdom, and Granny Weatherwax didn’t understand it.She Borrowed. You had to be careful. It was like a drug. You could ride the minds of animals and birds, but never bees, steering them gently, seeing through
They gets in the way of education. All them books. Books?
What good are they? There’s too much reading these days. We never had time to read when we was young, I know that.”
“We were too busy makin’ our own entertainment.”
“Right. Come on—we ain’t got much time.”
“What d’you mean?”
“It’s not just the girls. There’s something out there, too.
Some kind of their eyes. Granny Weatherwax had many times flicked through the channels of consciousness around her. It was, to her, part of the heart of witchcraft. To see through other eyes . ..
. . . through the eyes of gnats, seeing the slow patterns of time in the fast pattern of one day, their minds traveling rapidly as lightning...
... to listen with the body of a beetle, so that the world is a three-dimensional pattern of mind, movin’ around.”Granny shivered. She’d been aware of it in the same way that a skilled hunter, moving through the hills, is aware of another hunter—by the silences where there should have been noise, by the trampling of a stem, by the anger of the bees.Nanny Ogg had never liked the idea of Borrowing, and Magrat had always refused even to give it a try. The old witches on the other side of the mountain had too much trouble with inconvenient in-body experiences to cope with the out-of-body kind. So Granny was used to having the mental dimension to herself.There was a mind moving around in the kingdom, and Granny Weatherwax didn’t understand it.She Borrowed. You had to be careful. It was like a drug. You could ride the minds of animals and birds, but never bees, steering them gently, seeing through
Friday, April 17, 2009
Mark Spain Eternal Flame
Mark Spain Eternal FlameMark Spain EncoreMark Spain Dance I
circle. The circle is wide enough to throw a stone across, but somehow the figure manages to approach from a great distance.
Other people would have run away. But the girl doesn’t, and the woman in the circle is immediately interested. “So you’re real, then.”
“Of course. What is your name, girl?”
“Esmerelda.”
“And what do The girl put her head on one side.
“How do you know I did that?”
“It’s at the top of your mind, girl. Anyone could see it.
Anyone with ... good sight.”
“I shall be able to do that one day,” said the girl smugly.you want?”“I don’t want anything.” “Everyone wants something. Otherwise, why are you here?”“I just wanted to find out if you was real.”“To you, certainly ... you have good sight.”The girl nods. You could bounce rocks off her pride. “And now you have learned this,” said the woman in the circle, “what is it that you really want?” “Nothing.”“Really? Last week you went all the way up to the mountains above Copperhead to talk to the trolls. What did you want from them?”
circle. The circle is wide enough to throw a stone across, but somehow the figure manages to approach from a great distance.
Other people would have run away. But the girl doesn’t, and the woman in the circle is immediately interested. “So you’re real, then.”
“Of course. What is your name, girl?”
“Esmerelda.”
“And what do The girl put her head on one side.
“How do you know I did that?”
“It’s at the top of your mind, girl. Anyone could see it.
Anyone with ... good sight.”
“I shall be able to do that one day,” said the girl smugly.you want?”“I don’t want anything.” “Everyone wants something. Otherwise, why are you here?”“I just wanted to find out if you was real.”“To you, certainly ... you have good sight.”The girl nods. You could bounce rocks off her pride. “And now you have learned this,” said the woman in the circle, “what is it that you really want?” “Nothing.”“Really? Last week you went all the way up to the mountains above Copperhead to talk to the trolls. What did you want from them?”
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with Braid
Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with BraidFrida Kahlo Naturaleza vivaFrida Kahlo Memory
Although the donkey was only made a bishop," said Bishop "Deathwish" Treem.
"A role for which it was highly qualified," said Vorbis sharply. "And now, you will all leave. Including Subdeacon Nhumrod," he added. Nhumrod went from red to white at this sudden preferment. "But Archbishop Brutha will remain. We wish to talk."When Vorbis next spoke, it was as if every word was being winched up from a great depth.
"We spoke once, did we not, of the nature of reality?"
"Yes."
"And about how often what is perceived is not that which is fundamentally true?"The clergy withdrew.Vorbis sat down on a stone chair under an elder tree. It was huge and ancient, quite unlike its short-lived relatives outside the garden, and its berries were ripening.The Prophet sat with his elbows on the stone arms of the chair, his hands interlocked in front of him, and gave Brutha a long, slow stare."You are . . . recovered?" he said, eventually."Yes, lord," said Brutha. "But, lord, I cannot be a bishop, I cannot even-”"I assure you the job does not require much intelligence," said Vorbis. "If it did, bishops would not be able to do it."There was another long silence.
Although the donkey was only made a bishop," said Bishop "Deathwish" Treem.
"A role for which it was highly qualified," said Vorbis sharply. "And now, you will all leave. Including Subdeacon Nhumrod," he added. Nhumrod went from red to white at this sudden preferment. "But Archbishop Brutha will remain. We wish to talk."When Vorbis next spoke, it was as if every word was being winched up from a great depth.
"We spoke once, did we not, of the nature of reality?"
"Yes."
"And about how often what is perceived is not that which is fundamentally true?"The clergy withdrew.Vorbis sat down on a stone chair under an elder tree. It was huge and ancient, quite unlike its short-lived relatives outside the garden, and its berries were ripening.The Prophet sat with his elbows on the stone arms of the chair, his hands interlocked in front of him, and gave Brutha a long, slow stare."You are . . . recovered?" he said, eventually."Yes, lord," said Brutha. "But, lord, I cannot be a bishop, I cannot even-”"I assure you the job does not require much intelligence," said Vorbis. "If it did, bishops would not be able to do it."There was another long silence.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Caravaggio The Seven Acts of Mercyj
Caravaggio The Seven Acts of MercyCaravaggio The Lute PlayerCaravaggio The Inspiration of Saint MatthewCaravaggio The Fortune TellerCaravaggio The Conversion on the Way to Damascus
telling you, listen, a finite intellect, right, cannot by means of comparison reach the absolute truth of things, because being by nature indivisible, truth excludes the concepts of "more" or "less" so that nothing but truth itself can be the men in togas were trying to hold back two of their colleagues. It is a scene repeated a million times a day in bars around the multiverse-both would-be fighters growled and grimaced at one another and fought to escape the restraint of their friends, only of course they did not fight too hard, because there is nothing worse than actually succeeding in breaking free and suddenly finding yourself all alone in the middle of the ring with a madman who is about to hit you between the eyes with a rock.
"Yep," said Om, "that's philosophy, right enough."
"But they're fighting!"exact measure of truth. You bastards," he said.Someone from inside the building said, "Oh yeah? Sez you."The old man ignored Brutha but, with great difficulty, pulled a cobblestone loose and hefted it in his hand.Then he dived back through the doorway. There was a distant scream of rage."Ah. Philosophy," said Om.Brutha peered cautiously round the door.Inside the room two groups of very nearly identical
telling you, listen, a finite intellect, right, cannot by means of comparison reach the absolute truth of things, because being by nature indivisible, truth excludes the concepts of "more" or "less" so that nothing but truth itself can be the men in togas were trying to hold back two of their colleagues. It is a scene repeated a million times a day in bars around the multiverse-both would-be fighters growled and grimaced at one another and fought to escape the restraint of their friends, only of course they did not fight too hard, because there is nothing worse than actually succeeding in breaking free and suddenly finding yourself all alone in the middle of the ring with a madman who is about to hit you between the eyes with a rock.
"Yep," said Om, "that's philosophy, right enough."
"But they're fighting!"exact measure of truth. You bastards," he said.Someone from inside the building said, "Oh yeah? Sez you."The old man ignored Brutha but, with great difficulty, pulled a cobblestone loose and hefted it in his hand.Then he dived back through the doorway. There was a distant scream of rage."Ah. Philosophy," said Om.Brutha peered cautiously round the door.Inside the room two groups of very nearly identical
Monday, April 13, 2009
Rene Magritte Homesickness
Rene Magritte HomesicknessArthur Hughes PhyllisFranz Marc Zwei Katzen
trouble now.
Nothing else for it. He'd have to find the Cenobiarch himself. Someone like a High Priest would be bound to be able to hear him.
And he'd be in this place somewhere. High Priests tended to stay put. He should be easy enough to find. And while he might currently be a tortoise, Om was still a god. How hard could it be?
He'd have to go," said Nhumrod. "Although punishment is what you richly deserve, of course. We all richly deserve," he added piously.
"But why?"
“-why? He said he just wants to talk to you."
"But there is nothing I could possibly say that a quisitor wants to hear!" wailed Brutha.
"-Hear. I am sure you are not questioning the deacon's wishes," said Nhumrod.
"No. No. Of course not," said Brutha. He hung his head. upwards. That's what a hierarchy meant. You found the top man by going upwards.Wobbling slightly, his shell jerking from side to side, the former Great God Om set off to explore the citadel erected to his greater glory.He couldn't help noticing things had changed a lot in three thousand years. "Me?" said Brutha. "But, but-”"I don't believe he means to punish you
trouble now.
Nothing else for it. He'd have to find the Cenobiarch himself. Someone like a High Priest would be bound to be able to hear him.
And he'd be in this place somewhere. High Priests tended to stay put. He should be easy enough to find. And while he might currently be a tortoise, Om was still a god. How hard could it be?
He'd have to go," said Nhumrod. "Although punishment is what you richly deserve, of course. We all richly deserve," he added piously.
"But why?"
“-why? He said he just wants to talk to you."
"But there is nothing I could possibly say that a quisitor wants to hear!" wailed Brutha.
"-Hear. I am sure you are not questioning the deacon's wishes," said Nhumrod.
"No. No. Of course not," said Brutha. He hung his head. upwards. That's what a hierarchy meant. You found the top man by going upwards.Wobbling slightly, his shell jerking from side to side, the former Great God Om set off to explore the citadel erected to his greater glory.He couldn't help noticing things had changed a lot in three thousand years. "Me?" said Brutha. "But, but-”"I don't believe he means to punish you
Piet Mondrian Composition with Yellow Blue and Red
Piet Mondrian Composition with Yellow Blue and RedPiet Mondrian Composition with Red YellowPiet Mondrian Composition with Red Yellow and Blue
peered through the snow. There were indeed beings moving around on the backs of the glaciers. They were human, or humanoid, or at least humanish. They didn't look very big.
That turned out its eyes were tiny and black and deep set, like lumps of coal.[24]
There was a splintering crash ahead as the leading glaciers smacked into a forest. Birds rattled up in panic. Snow and splinters rained down around Nijel as he galloped on the air alongside the giant.
He cleared his throat.to be because the glaciers themselves were very big, and Nijel wasn't very good at perspective. As the horses flew lower over the leading glacier, a huge bull heavily crevassed and scarred by moraine, it became apparent that one reason why the Ice Giants were known as the Ice Giants was because they were, well, giants.The other was that they were made of ice.A figure the size of a large house was crouched at the crest of the bull, urging it to greater efforts by means of a spike on a long pole. It was craggy, in fact it was more nearly faceted, and glinted green and blue in the light; there was a thin band of silver in its snowy locks, and
peered through the snow. There were indeed beings moving around on the backs of the glaciers. They were human, or humanoid, or at least humanish. They didn't look very big.
That turned out its eyes were tiny and black and deep set, like lumps of coal.[24]
There was a splintering crash ahead as the leading glaciers smacked into a forest. Birds rattled up in panic. Snow and splinters rained down around Nijel as he galloped on the air alongside the giant.
He cleared his throat.to be because the glaciers themselves were very big, and Nijel wasn't very good at perspective. As the horses flew lower over the leading glacier, a huge bull heavily crevassed and scarred by moraine, it became apparent that one reason why the Ice Giants were known as the Ice Giants was because they were, well, giants.The other was that they were made of ice.A figure the size of a large house was crouched at the crest of the bull, urging it to greater efforts by means of a spike on a long pole. It was craggy, in fact it was more nearly faceted, and glinted green and blue in the light; there was a thin band of silver in its snowy locks, and
Friday, April 10, 2009
Paul Gauguin The Moon and the Earth
Paul Gauguin The Moon and the EarthPaul Gauguin The Loss of VirginityPaul Gauguin Tahitian Woman
capability, but Abrim was learning fast.
You made glass and a bellpush that plays a choice of twenty popular melodies that no music lover would want to listen to even after five years' sensory deprivation.
One wizard turned to another and duly said: 'I wonder who that can be at this time of night?'
There was another series of thumps on the woodwork.
'There can't be anyone alive out there,' said the other wizard, and he said it nervously, because yourself the pinch in the hourglass, the fulcrum on the balance, the roll around the sausage.Do it right and you were the power, it was part of you and you were capable of-Has it been pointed out that his feet were several inches off the ground? His feet were several inches off the ground.Abrim was pulling together the potency for a spell that would soar away into the sky and beset the Ankh tower with a thousand screaming demons when there came a thunderous knock at the door.There is a mantra to be said on these occasions. It doesn't matter if the door is a tent flap, a scrap of hide on a wind-blown yurt, three inches of solid oak with great iron nails in or a rectangle of chipboard with mahogany veneer, a small light over it made of horrible bits of coloured
capability, but Abrim was learning fast.
You made glass and a bellpush that plays a choice of twenty popular melodies that no music lover would want to listen to even after five years' sensory deprivation.
One wizard turned to another and duly said: 'I wonder who that can be at this time of night?'
There was another series of thumps on the woodwork.
'There can't be anyone alive out there,' said the other wizard, and he said it nervously, because yourself the pinch in the hourglass, the fulcrum on the balance, the roll around the sausage.Do it right and you were the power, it was part of you and you were capable of-Has it been pointed out that his feet were several inches off the ground? His feet were several inches off the ground.Abrim was pulling together the potency for a spell that would soar away into the sky and beset the Ankh tower with a thousand screaming demons when there came a thunderous knock at the door.There is a mantra to be said on these occasions. It doesn't matter if the door is a tent flap, a scrap of hide on a wind-blown yurt, three inches of solid oak with great iron nails in or a rectangle of chipboard with mahogany veneer, a small light over it made of horrible bits of coloured
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Leroy Neiman Jour du Soleil
Leroy Neiman Jour du SoleilLeroy Neiman Jazz HornsLeroy Neiman Island Hole at Sawgrass
were you thinking of-‘
'They are wizards!' shouted Coin. 'They can be here in the twinkling of an eye! I have given them the power! Besides,' his voice dropped back to something like normal pitch, 'the University is finished. It was never the true home of magic, only its prison. I will build us a new place.'
He lifted dark library these past few days? The magic is inside you now, not imprisoned between covers. Is that not a joyous thing? Is there not one among you who has done more magic, real magic, in the past twenty-four hours than he has done in the whole of his life before? Is there one among you who does not, in his heart of hearts, truly agree with me?'the new hat out of its box, and smiled at it. Spelter and Carding held their breath.'But-’They looked around. Hakardly the Lore master had spoken, and now stood with his mouth opening and shutting.Coin turned to him, one eyebrow raised.'You surely don't mean to close the University?' said the old wizard, his voice trembling.'It is no longer necessary,' said Coin. 'It's a place of dust and old books. It is behind us. Is that not so ... brothers?'There was a chorus of uncertain mumbling. The wizards found it hard to imagine life without the old stones of UU. Although, come to think of it, there was a lot of dust, of course, and the books were pretty old ...'After all ... brothers ... who among you has been into your
were you thinking of-‘
'They are wizards!' shouted Coin. 'They can be here in the twinkling of an eye! I have given them the power! Besides,' his voice dropped back to something like normal pitch, 'the University is finished. It was never the true home of magic, only its prison. I will build us a new place.'
He lifted dark library these past few days? The magic is inside you now, not imprisoned between covers. Is that not a joyous thing? Is there not one among you who has done more magic, real magic, in the past twenty-four hours than he has done in the whole of his life before? Is there one among you who does not, in his heart of hearts, truly agree with me?'the new hat out of its box, and smiled at it. Spelter and Carding held their breath.'But-’They looked around. Hakardly the Lore master had spoken, and now stood with his mouth opening and shutting.Coin turned to him, one eyebrow raised.'You surely don't mean to close the University?' said the old wizard, his voice trembling.'It is no longer necessary,' said Coin. 'It's a place of dust and old books. It is behind us. Is that not so ... brothers?'There was a chorus of uncertain mumbling. The wizards found it hard to imagine life without the old stones of UU. Although, come to think of it, there was a lot of dust, of course, and the books were pretty old ...'After all ... brothers ... who among you has been into your
Leonardo da Vinci Leda and the Swan
Leonardo da Vinci Leda and the SwanLeonardo da Vinci St John in the WildernessLeonardo da Vinci The Last Supper
looking at a point six inches beyond the back of his head. Spelter got the impression that he was in the way, and considerably surplus to immediate requirements.
He rallied his wish to meet him.'
Spelter nodded his head. Two of the college porters, who had been sidling towards the newcomer for the last few minutes, appeared at either elbow.
'Take him out and throw him in the street,' said Spelter. The porters, big solid serious men, nodded. They gripped the boy's pipestem arms with hands like banana bunches.dignity and pulled himself up to his full height.'What is the meaning of, um, this?' he said. It was pretty weak, he had to admit, but the steadiness of that incandescent glare appeared to be stripping all the words out of his memory.'I have come,' said the stranger.'Come? Come for what?''To take my place. Where is the seat for me?''Are you a student?' demanded Spelter, white with anger. 'What is your name, young man?'The boy ignored him and looked around at the assembled wizards.'Who is the most powerful wizard here?' he said. 'I
looking at a point six inches beyond the back of his head. Spelter got the impression that he was in the way, and considerably surplus to immediate requirements.
He rallied his wish to meet him.'
Spelter nodded his head. Two of the college porters, who had been sidling towards the newcomer for the last few minutes, appeared at either elbow.
'Take him out and throw him in the street,' said Spelter. The porters, big solid serious men, nodded. They gripped the boy's pipestem arms with hands like banana bunches.dignity and pulled himself up to his full height.'What is the meaning of, um, this?' he said. It was pretty weak, he had to admit, but the steadiness of that incandescent glare appeared to be stripping all the words out of his memory.'I have come,' said the stranger.'Come? Come for what?''To take my place. Where is the seat for me?''Are you a student?' demanded Spelter, white with anger. 'What is your name, young man?'The boy ignored him and looked around at the assembled wizards.'Who is the most powerful wizard here?' he said. 'I
Monday, April 6, 2009
Paul Cezanne Flowers in a Blue Vase
Paul Cezanne Flowers in a Blue VasePaul Cezanne Five BathersPaul Cezanne Boy in a Red Waistcoat
coming in, and I came down here to see where the music was coming from, and the next thing, there’s these wheels -‘ Count Arthur returned to his approximately human form, looked around proudly, realised that no-one was paying him any attention, and sagged. ‘They looked a lot tougher than the others,’ said Ludmilla.’Bigger and nastier and covered in sharp edges.’
‘Soldiers,’ said Windle. ‘We’ve seen the workers. And now there’s soldiers. Just like ants.’
‘I had an ant farm when I was a lad,’ said Arthur, who had hit the floor rather heavily and was having temporary and some ants -‘ ‘I don’t know. How should I know? But the wizards will be somewhere near it.’
‘I don’t see vy you’re bothering about them,’ said Doreen. ‘They buried you alive just because you vere dead.’
Windle looked up at the sound of wheels. A dozen warrior baskets turned the corner and pulled up in formation.trouble with the nature of reality. ‘Hang on,’ said Ludmilla. ‘I know about ants. We have ants in the back yard. If you have workers and soldiers, then you must also have a -‘ ‘I know. I know,’ said Windle.‘- mind you, they called it a farm, I never saw them doing any farming -‘ Ludmilla leaned against the wall.‘It’ll be somewhere close,’ she said.‘I think so, ‘ said Windle.‘What does it look like, do you think?’‘- what you do is, you get two bits of glass
‘They thought they were doing it for the best,
coming in, and I came down here to see where the music was coming from, and the next thing, there’s these wheels -‘ Count Arthur returned to his approximately human form, looked around proudly, realised that no-one was paying him any attention, and sagged. ‘They looked a lot tougher than the others,’ said Ludmilla.’Bigger and nastier and covered in sharp edges.’
‘Soldiers,’ said Windle. ‘We’ve seen the workers. And now there’s soldiers. Just like ants.’
‘I had an ant farm when I was a lad,’ said Arthur, who had hit the floor rather heavily and was having temporary and some ants -‘ ‘I don’t know. How should I know? But the wizards will be somewhere near it.’
‘I don’t see vy you’re bothering about them,’ said Doreen. ‘They buried you alive just because you vere dead.’
Windle looked up at the sound of wheels. A dozen warrior baskets turned the corner and pulled up in formation.trouble with the nature of reality. ‘Hang on,’ said Ludmilla. ‘I know about ants. We have ants in the back yard. If you have workers and soldiers, then you must also have a -‘ ‘I know. I know,’ said Windle.‘- mind you, they called it a farm, I never saw them doing any farming -‘ Ludmilla leaned against the wall.‘It’ll be somewhere close,’ she said.‘I think so, ‘ said Windle.‘What does it look like, do you think?’‘- what you do is, you get two bits of glass
‘They thought they were doing it for the best,
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Francois Boucher Venus Consoling Love
Francois Boucher Venus Consoling LoveFrancois Boucher The Toilet of VenusGustav Klimt The Virgin
shouldn’t,’ said Mrs Cake.’That stuff rots your teeth.’
Windle worked this one out.
‘Two sugars, please,’ he said.
‘ It’s all right.’
‘This is a nice place you have here, Mrs Cake,’ said Windle, his mind racing. Mrs Cake’s habit of answering questions ‘Sorry. Oi gets into the habit of leavin’ it on,’ she said, ‘what with there only bein’ me an’ Ludmilla and One-Man-Bucket. He’s a ghost,’ she added.’Oi knew you was goin’ to ask that.’
‘Yes, I had heard that mediums have native spirit guides,’ said Windle. ‘ ‘Im ‘E ‘s not a guide, ‘e’s a sort of odd-job ghost,’ said Mrs Cake.’I don’t hold with all that stuff with cards and trumpets and Oowhile they were still forming in your mind taxed the most active brain.‘He’s been dead for ten years,’ she said.‘Er,’ said Windle, but the question was already there in his larynx, ‘I trust Mr Cake is in good health?’‘It’s OK. Oi speaks to him occasional,’ said Mrs Cake.‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Windle.‘All right, if it makes you feel any better.’‘Um, Mrs Cake? I’m finding it a little confusing. Could you . . . switch off . . . your precognition . . . ?’She nodded.
shouldn’t,’ said Mrs Cake.’That stuff rots your teeth.’
Windle worked this one out.
‘Two sugars, please,’ he said.
‘ It’s all right.’
‘This is a nice place you have here, Mrs Cake,’ said Windle, his mind racing. Mrs Cake’s habit of answering questions ‘Sorry. Oi gets into the habit of leavin’ it on,’ she said, ‘what with there only bein’ me an’ Ludmilla and One-Man-Bucket. He’s a ghost,’ she added.’Oi knew you was goin’ to ask that.’
‘Yes, I had heard that mediums have native spirit guides,’ said Windle. ‘ ‘Im ‘E ‘s not a guide, ‘e’s a sort of odd-job ghost,’ said Mrs Cake.’I don’t hold with all that stuff with cards and trumpets and Oowhile they were still forming in your mind taxed the most active brain.‘He’s been dead for ten years,’ she said.‘Er,’ said Windle, but the question was already there in his larynx, ‘I trust Mr Cake is in good health?’‘It’s OK. Oi speaks to him occasional,’ said Mrs Cake.‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Windle.‘All right, if it makes you feel any better.’‘Um, Mrs Cake? I’m finding it a little confusing. Could you . . . switch off . . . your precognition . . . ?’She nodded.
Frederic Remington The Cowboy
Frederic Remington The CowboyThomas Kinkade veniceThomas Kinkade HOMETOWN MEMORIES
Oh blow, is that what I’m doin’?’ said Mrs Cake.
‘Madam, why are you answering me before I’ve even said something?’
‘What?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘‘What?’ said Mrs Cake, suddenly enraged beyond belief. ‘There’s too much of this sort of thing these days,’ said Ridcully to the Dean, as they strolled away.
‘It’s the pressures and stresses of living in a big city,’ said the Senior What do you mean?’‘What?’They stared at one another, fixed in an unbreakable conversational deadlock. Then Mrs Cake realised.‘O I’m prematurely premoniting again,’ she said.She stuck a finger in her ear and wiggled it around with a squelching noise.’It’s all alright now. Now, the reason -‘ But Ridcully had had enough.‘Bursar,’ he said, ‘give this woman a penny and send her about her business, will you?’
Oh blow, is that what I’m doin’?’ said Mrs Cake.
‘Madam, why are you answering me before I’ve even said something?’
‘What?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘‘What?’ said Mrs Cake, suddenly enraged beyond belief. ‘There’s too much of this sort of thing these days,’ said Ridcully to the Dean, as they strolled away.
‘It’s the pressures and stresses of living in a big city,’ said the Senior What do you mean?’‘What?’They stared at one another, fixed in an unbreakable conversational deadlock. Then Mrs Cake realised.‘O I’m prematurely premoniting again,’ she said.She stuck a finger in her ear and wiggled it around with a squelching noise.’It’s all alright now. Now, the reason -‘ But Ridcully had had enough.‘Bursar,’ he said, ‘give this woman a penny and send her about her business, will you?’
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Rembrandt Christ Driving The Money Changers From The Temple
Rembrandt Christ Driving The Money Changers From The TempleRembrandt Bathsheba at Her BathLord Frederick Leighton WeddedLord Frederick Leighton The Fisherman and the SyrenJean Auguste Dominique Ingres Perseus and Andromeda
duck hunting. He shouted at people. He tried to jolly them along. And he hardly ever wore proper robes. He’d he hadn’t won, still had his arm afterwards. The Archchancellor wanted the University to form its own football team for the big city game on Hogswatchday.
Intellectually, Ridcully maintained his position for two reasonspersuaded Mrs Whitlow, the University’s dreaded housekeeper, to make him a sort of baggy trouser suit in garish blue and red; twice a day the wizards stood in bemusement and watched him jog purposefully around the University buildings, his pointy wizarding hat tied firmly on his head with string. He’d shout cheerfully up at them, because fundamental to the make-up of people like ??? Mustrum Ridcully is an iron belief that everyone else would like it, too, if only they tried it. ‘Maybe he’ll die, ‘ they told one another hopefully, as they watched him try to break the crust on the river Ankh for an early morning dip.’All this healthy exercise can’t be good for him.’Stories trickled back into the University. The Archchancellor had gone two rounds bare-fisted with Detritus, the huge odd-job troll at the Mended Drum. The Archchancellor had arm-wrestled with the Librarian for a bet and, although of course
duck hunting. He shouted at people. He tried to jolly them along. And he hardly ever wore proper robes. He’d he hadn’t won, still had his arm afterwards. The Archchancellor wanted the University to form its own football team for the big city game on Hogswatchday.
Intellectually, Ridcully maintained his position for two reasonspersuaded Mrs Whitlow, the University’s dreaded housekeeper, to make him a sort of baggy trouser suit in garish blue and red; twice a day the wizards stood in bemusement and watched him jog purposefully around the University buildings, his pointy wizarding hat tied firmly on his head with string. He’d shout cheerfully up at them, because fundamental to the make-up of people like ??? Mustrum Ridcully is an iron belief that everyone else would like it, too, if only they tried it. ‘Maybe he’ll die, ‘ they told one another hopefully, as they watched him try to break the crust on the river Ankh for an early morning dip.’All this healthy exercise can’t be good for him.’Stories trickled back into the University. The Archchancellor had gone two rounds bare-fisted with Detritus, the huge odd-job troll at the Mended Drum. The Archchancellor had arm-wrestled with the Librarian for a bet and, although of course
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