Tuesday, March 31, 2009

John Singer Sargent The Breakfast Table

John Singer Sargent The Breakfast TableRembrandt Susanna and the EldersRembrandt Diana Bathing with the Stories of Actaeon and CallistoRembrandt Christ On The CrossRembrandt Christ Driving The Money Changers From The Temple
at knots.’
‘These were pretty good,’ said Victor.
‘I just remember the dream. There was this voice telling me that I must wake the ‑ the sleeping man?’
Victor thought of the armoured figure on the slab.
‘Did you get a good look at it?’ he said. ‘What was it like?’
‘I don’t know about tonight,’ said Ginger cautiously. ‘But in my dreams it’s always looked a bit like my Uncle Oswald.’
Victor thought distant, blurred voices. A few stones moved. A voice, a little closer now, trilled, ‘Hallo, little children. This way, little children.’
‘That’s Rock!’ said Ginger.
‘I’d know that voice anywhere,’ said Victor. ‘Hey! Rock! It’s me! Victor!’
There was a worried pause. Then Rock’s voice bellowed: ‘It’s my friend Victor!’
‘That mean we can’t eat him?’of a sword taller than he was. You couldn’t parry a slash from something like that, it’d cut through anything. Somehow it was hard to think of anything looking like an Oswald with a sword like that.‘Why’s he remind you of your Uncle Oswald?’ he said.‘Because my Uncle Oswald lay quite still like that. Mind you, I only ever saw him once. And that was at his funeral.’Victor opened his mouth ‑ and there were

Monday, March 30, 2009

William Bouguereau Le Jour

William Bouguereau Le JourWilliam Bouguereau DawnWilliam Bouguereau Dante and Virgil in HellBill Brauer Scarlet DancerBill Brauer Harvest Moon
And in another alleyway Gaspode sat muttering to himself.
‘Huh. Stay, he says. Givin’ me orders. Jus’ so’s his girlfriend doesn’t have to have a horrid smelly dog in her room. So here’s me, man’s best friend, sittin’ out in the rain. If it was rainin’, anyway. Maybe it ain’t rainin’, but if it was rainin’, I’d be soaked by now. Serve him right if I just upped and walked away. I could do itVictor.
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ said Ginger, sniffing. ‘All right, you can turn around now. I’m in bed.’
Victor relaxed, and turned round. Ginger had drawn the covers up to her neck and was holding them there like a besieged garrison manning the barricades., too. Any time I wanted. I don’t have to sit here. I hope no‑one’s thinkin’ I’m sittin’ here because I’ve been told to sit here. I’d like to see the human who could give me orders. I’m sittin’ here ‘cos I want to. Yeah.’Then he whined for a bit and shuffled into the shadows, where there was less chance of being seen.In the room above, Victor was standing facing the wall. This was humiliating. It had been bad enough bumping into a grinning Mrs Cosmopilite on the stairs. She had given him a big smile and a complicated, elbowintensive gesture that, he felt certain, sweet little old ladies shouldn’t know.There were clinks and the occasional rustle behind him as Ginger got ready for bed.‘She’s really very nice. She told me yesterday that she had had four husbands,’ said Ginger.‘What did she do with the bones?’ said

Friday, March 27, 2009

Francois Boucher The Setting of the Sun

Francois Boucher The Setting of the SunFrancois Boucher The Rest on the Flight into EgyptFrancois Boucher The Rape of EuropaFrancois Boucher The Interrupted SleepFrancois Boucher Portrait of Marquise de Pompadour
drew herself up haughtily.
‘All that old-fashioned stuff very uncultured now,’ she sniffed. ‘It’s not the modern way. I not interested in any troll’, she added, ‘that not up-to-date. A rock on the head may be quite sentimental,’ she went on, the began.
‘That’s court, not caught,’ said Ruby wearily. ‘You got to, to, to-’ She paused.
She wasn’t all that sure what you had to do. But Ruby had spent some weeks in Holy Wood, and if Holy Wood did anything, it changed things; in Holy Wood she’d plugged into a vast cross-species female freemasonry she hadn’t suspected existed, and she was learning fast. She’d talked at length to sympathetic human girls. And dwarfs. Even dwarfs had better courtship rituals, for gods’ sake.[16]certainty draining out of her voice as she surveyed the sentence ahead of her, ‘but diamonds are a girl’s best friend.’ She hesitated. That didn’t sound right, even to her. It certainly puzzled Detritus. ‘What? You want I should knock my teeth out?’ he said. ‘Well, all right, not diamonds,’ Ruby conceded. ‘But there proper modern ways now. You got to court a girl.’ Detritus brightened. ‘Ah, but I-’ he

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Leonardo da Vinci Portrait Of A Young Lady

Leonardo da Vinci Portrait Of A Young LadyLeonardo da Vinci LedaLeonardo da Vinci Leda 1530Leonardo da Vinci Lady With An ErmineThomas Kinkade End of a Perfect Day
we both realize. We’re talking.’
‘Concheptualishing,’ said the cat. It was a black cat, with white paws, ears like shotgun targets, and the scarred said the cat, ‘it’s hard to hitch-hike when you’s a cat.’
‘See?’ said Gaspode. ‘It’s happening all the time. All sorts are turnin’ up in Holy Wood. They don’t know why they’ve come, only that it’s important to be here. An’ they don’t act like they do anywhere else in the world. I bin watchin’. Somethin’ weird’s goin’ on.’
The duck quacked. There were words in there somewhere, but so mangled by the incompatibility of beak and larynx that Victor couldn’t understand a word. face of a cat that has already lived eight lives to the full. ‘You tell him, kid,’ said the mouse. ‘Tell him what you did next,’ said Gaspode. ‘We came here,’ said the cat. ‘From Ankh-Morpork?’ said Victor. ‘Yeah.’ ‘That’s nearly thirty miles!’ ‘Yeah, and take it from me,’

Pablo Picasso Three Women at the Spring

Pablo Picasso Three Women at the SpringPablo Picasso Three DancersPablo Picasso The ShadowPablo Picasso The Pipes of PanPablo Picasso Studio with Plaster Head
luvverly". Good business sense.’
He leaned across the desk again.
‘Seems to me’, he said, ‘that you could do with some of that around here.’
‘So it appears,’ said Silverfish weakly.
‘And with the money,’ said Dibbler, his voice a crowbar inserted in the cracks in reality, ‘you could really get on with perfecting your art.’
Silverfish brightened a bit. ‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘For example, some way of getting sound on–’
Dibbler A Romantick Tragedie in Two Reels.
Thank you.

‘Oh,’ he said, flatly. wasn’t listening. He pointed to a stack of boards leaning against the wall. ‘What are those?’ he said. ‘Ah,’ said Silverfish. ‘That was my idea. We thought it would be, er, good business sense’, he savoured the words as if they were some rare new sweet, ‘to tell people about the other moving pictures we were making.’ Dibbler picked up one of the boards and held it critically at arm’s length. It said: Nexte weke wee will be ShewingPelias and Melisande,
‘Isn’t that all right?’ said Silverfish, now thoroughly beaten. ‘

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Caravaggio Lute Player

Caravaggio Lute PlayerCaravaggio Adoration of the ShepherdsAndrea Mantegna Samson and DelilahAndrea Mantegna Adoration of the ShepherdsAndrea Mantegna Adoration of the Magi
of course there’s entertainment,’ said Peavie, the Guild treasurer. He was a small, nervous man. Most alchemists were nervous, in any case; it came from not knowing what the crucible of bubbling stuff they were experimenting with was going to do next.
‘Well, yes. Obviously some entertainment,’ said Silverfish.
‘Some of said Peavie. ‘A month ago it was just a mad idea. And now it’s all worked! It’s just like magic! Only not magical, if you see what I mean,’ he added quickly.
‘Not just illusion, but real illusion,’ said Lully.
‘I don’t know if anyone’s thought about this,’ said Peavie, ‘but this could make us a bit of the great historical dramas,’ said Peavie. ‘Just picture the scene! You get some actors together, they act it just once, and people all over the Disc will be able to see it as many times as they like! A great saving in wages, by the way,’ he added. ‘But tastefully done,’ said Silverfish. ‘We have a great responsibility to see that nothing is done which is in any way . . . ‘ his voice trailed off, ‘ . . . you know . . . coarse.’ ‘They’ll stop us,’ said Lully darkly. ‘I know those wizards.’ ‘I’ve been giving that some thought,’ said Silverfish. ‘The light’s too bad here anyway. We agreed. We need clear skies. And we need to be a long way away. I think I know just the place.’ ‘You know, I can’t believe we’re doing this,’

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Alphonse Maria Mucha JOB

Alphonse Maria Mucha JOBAlphonse Maria Mucha GismondaPierre Auguste Renoir The UmbrellasPierre Auguste Renoir Les baigneusesPierre Auguste Renoir By the Seashore
crocodile-headed thing, jerked on to the plaza before the pyramid, squinted up at Teppic, and reached out towards him. Teppic fumbled for a knife, wondering what sort was appropriate for gods .
And, along the Djel, the pyramids began to flare their meagre store of hoarded time.

Priests and ancestors fled as the ground began to shake. Even the gods looked bewildered.
IIb across the flagstones, still staring at the hulking outline of the Great Pyramid.
'There's someone still there, look,' he said, and pointed to a figure alone on the plaza.
IIb peered into the gloom.
'It's only Dios, the high priest,' he said. 'I expect he's got some plan in mind, best not to meddle in the affairs of priests, now will you come on.'snatched his father's arm and dragged him away. 'Come on!' he yelled into his ear. 'We can't be around here when it goes off! Otherwise you'll be put to bed on a coathanger!' Around them several other pyramids struck their flares, thin and reedy affairs that were barely visible in the afterglow. 'Dad! I said we've got to go!' Ptaclusp was dragged backwards

Monday, March 23, 2009

William Bouguereau Biblis

William Bouguereau BiblisWilliam Bouguereau Nymphs and Satyr.
Diego Rivera Detroit IndustryLeroy Neiman Rocky vs ApolloAndy Warhol Superman
they have some occult significance?' he said.
'What's occult mean?' she said vaguely.
'Oh. What do you need them for, then?'
'I told you. I don't feel properly dressed without them on.' Teppic shrugged, and went back to rocking his knife in the crack.
'Why away the shadows. He staggered over to the rocks and stared at her.
'The whole valley has just closed up,' he managed at last. 'All those people . .
'I saw cooking fires,' said Ptraci, slumping down beside him.
'It's something to do with the pyramid,' he said. 'It looked very strange just before we left. It's magic, or are you doing that?' she said. He stopped and thought about it. 'I don't know,' he said. 'But you did see the valley, didn't you?' 'Yes.' 'Well, then?' 'Well what?' Teppic rolled his eyes. 'Didn't you think it was a bit, well, odd? A whole country just more or less vanishing? It's something you don't bloody well see every day, for gods' sake!' 'How should I know? I've never been out of the valley before. I don't know what it's supposed to look like from outside. And don't swear.' Teppic shook his head. 'I think I will go and lie down in the shade,' he said. 'What's left of it,' he added, for the brass light of the sun was burning

Friday, March 20, 2009

Claude Monet Poplars

Claude Monet PoplarsJohannes Vermeer View Of DelftJohannes Vermeer The Kitchen MaidDiane Romanello Sunset BeachGustav Klimt The Virgins (Le Vergini)
two brothers, left to themselves, glowered at each other.
At last It was on the floor and it had a pillow at one end. It had to be a bed.
Teppic found he was doubting it as he tossed and turned, trying to find some part of the mattress that was prepared to meet him halfway. This is stupid, he thought, I grew up on beds like this. And pillows carved out of rock. I was born in this palace, this is my heritage, I must be prepared to accept it . . .
I must order a proper bed and a feather pillow from Ankh, first thing in the morningIIa said, 'What does "quantum" mean, anyway?' IIb shrugged. 'It means add another nought,' he said. 'Oh,' said IIa, 'is that all?' All along the river valley of the Djel the pyramids were flaring silently into the night, discharging the accumulated power of the day. Great soundless flames erupted from their capstones and danced upwards, jagged as lightning, cold as ice. For hundreds of miles the desert glittered with the constellations of the dead, the aurora of antiquity. But along the valley of the Djel the lights ran together in one solid ribbon of fire.

Jack Vettriano Zara Philips by Rankin

Jack Vettriano Zara Philips by RankinJack Vettriano You Can't Come To This Party!Jack Vettriano Yesterday's DreamsJack Vettriano Working the LoungeJack Vettriano words of Wisdom
Nothing but stars, scattered across the blackness as though the Creator had smashed the windscreen of his car and hadn't bothered to stop to sweep up the pieces. This is the gulf between universes, the chill deeps of space that contain nothing but the occasional random molecule, a few lost comets and ...
... but a the reason for all this, but it is probably quantum. Much that is weird could happen on a world on the back of a turtle like that.
It's happening already.
The stars below are campfires, out in the desert, and the lights of remote villages high in the forested mountains. Towns are smeared nebulae, cities are vast constellations; the great sprawling city of Ankh-Morpork, for example, glows like a couple of colliding galaxies.circle of blackness shifts slightly, the eye reconsiders perspective, and what was apparently the awesome distance of interstellar wossname becomes a world under darkness, its stars the lights of what will charitably be called civilisation. For, as the world tumbles lazily, it is revealed as the Discworld - flat, circular, and carried through space on the back of four elephants who stand on the back of Great A'tuin, the only turtle ever to feature on the Hertzsprung-Russell Diagram, a turtle ten thousand miles long, dusted with the frost of dead comets, meteor-pocked, albedo-eyed. No-one knows

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

William Blake The Resurrection

William Blake The ResurrectionWilliam Blake The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with SunWilliam Blake The Descent of ChristWilliam Blake LosWilliam Blake the Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve
'Nanny!' said Magrat, shocked. The Fool gave the terrified, ingratiating rictus of young men everywhere when confronted by importunate elderly women commenting on their intimately personal lives.
The older witches brushed past. The Fool grabbed Magrat's hand.
'I know where we can get a good view,' he said.
She hesitated.
'It's all right,' said the Fool urgently. 'You'll be perfectly safe with me.'
'Yes, I Nanny Ogg waved her bag of walnuts at Granny.
'Want one?' she said.
An alderman of Lancre shuffled past her and pointed politely to the seat on her left.
'Is anyone sitting here?' he said.will, won't I,' said Magrat, trying to look around him to see where the others had gone.'They're staging the play outside, in the big courtyard. We'll get a lovely view from one of the gate towers, and no-one else will be there. I put some wine up there for us, and everything.'When she still looked half-reluctant he added, 'And there's a cistern of water and a fireplace that the guards use sometimes. In case you want to wash your hair.'The castle was full of people standing around in that polite, sheepish way affected by people who see each other all day and are now seeing each other again in unusual social circumstances, like an office party. The witches passed quite unremarked among them and found seats in the rows of benches in the main courtyard, set up before a hastily assembled stage.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Mary Magdalene in the Desert

Mary Magdalene in the DesertLeroy Neiman World Class SkierJuan Gris Violin and EngravingJuan Gris The ViolinJuan Gris The Painter's Window
He'd been a bit ashamed of that play at the time. The famous Battle of Morpork, he strongly suspected, had consisted of about two thousand men lost in a swamp on a cold, wet day, hacking one another into oblivion with rustythat a castle made of painted sacking stretched over a frame could be shoved behind a curtain, and this voice was taking the coal dust of his words and filling the room with diamonds.
I made these words, Hwel thought. But they don't belong to me. They belong to him. swords. What would the last King of Ankh have said to a pack of ragged men who knew they were outnumbered, outflanked and outgeneralled? Something with bite, something with edge, something like a drink of brandy to a dying man; no logic, no explanation, just words that would reach right down through a tired man's brain and pull him to his feet by his testicles.Now he was seeing its effect.He began to think the walls had fallen away, and there was a cold mist blowing over the marshes, its choking silence broken only by the impatient cries of the carrion birds . . .And this voice.And he'd written the words, they were his, no half-crazed king had ever really spoken like this. And he'd written all this to fill in a gap so

Monday, March 16, 2009

Frida Kahlo Thinking about Death

Frida Kahlo Thinking about DeathFrida Kahlo The Suicide of Dorothy HaleFrida Kahlo Sun and LifeFrida Kahlo Still Life with ParrotFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Loose Hair
listened in awed silence as the endless mists rolled across the dripping fields and the red ball of the sun floated down the sky. When the boy had finished hot tears were streaming down Hwel's face.
'By all the Sto Lat by sunset.'
As the grumbling actors awoke from the spell and wandered back to the shafts of the lattys Vitoller beckoned to the dwarf and put his arm around his shoulders, or rather around the top of his head.
'Well?' he said. 'You people know all about magic, or so it is said. What do you make of it?'
'He spends all his time around the stage, master. It's only natural that he gods,' he said, when Tomjon had finished, 'I must have been on damn good form when I wrote that.' He blew his nose noisily.'Do I sound like that?' said Willikins, his face pale.Vitoller patted him gently on the shoulder.'If you sounded like that, my bonny,' he said, 'you wouldn't be standing arse-deep in slush in the middle of these forsaken fields, with nothing but liberated cabbage for thy tea.'He clapped his hands.'No more, no more,' he said, his breath making puffs of steam in the freezing air. 'Backs to it, everybody. We must be outside the walls of

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Mark Rothko White over Red

Mark Rothko White over RedPaul Klee Red BridgePaul Klee Red And White DomesPaul Klee Fire in the EveningPaul Klee Farbtafel
Matters in hand. He'd put matters in hand all right. If he closed his eyes he could see the body tumbling down the steps. Had there been a hiss of shocked breath, down in the darkness of the hall? He'd been certain they were probably end up with her usual dancing on the table, showing her petticoats and singing 'The Hedgehog Can Never be Buggered at All'.
The table was covered with copper coins. Vitoller and his wife sat at either end, counting. It was something of a race.
Granny considered Mrs Vitoller as she snatched farthings from under her husband's fingers. She was an intelligent-looking woman, who appeared to treat her husband much as a sheepdog treats a favourite lamb. The alone. Matters in hand! He'd tried to wash the blood off his hand. If he could wash the blood off, he told himself, it wouldn't have happened. He'd scrubbed and scrubbed. Scrubbed till he screamed. Granny wasn't at home in public houses. She sat stiffly to attention behind her port-and-lemon, as if it were a shield against the lures of the world.Nanny Ogg, on the other hand, was enthusiastically downing her third drink and, Granny thought sourly, was well along that path which would

Thursday, March 12, 2009


Pino SENSUALITYPino MOTHER'S LOVEPino Morning Dreams
shop bell jangled. Keeble's eyes rolled. Death decided that he owed the man something. He shouldn't be allowed to lose custom, which was clearly something humans valued dearly.
He pushed wasn't in it, 'you're not Keeble, are you?'
Death stared at her. He'd never before experienced an unsatisfied customer. He was at a loss. Finally he gave up.
The cook's small eyes narrowed.
' 'Oo are you calling a midnight bag?' she said accusingly, and hit the counter with aside the bead curtain and stalked into the outer shop, where a small fat woman, looking rather like an angry cottage loaf, was hammering on the counter with a haddock.'It's about that cook's job up at the University,' she said. 'You told me it was a good position and it's a disgrace up there, the tricks them students play, and I demand – I want you to – I'm not.Her voice trailed off.' 'Ere,' she said, but you could tell her heart

Peter Paul Rubens Garden of Love

Peter Paul Rubens Garden of LoveWinslow Homer The Herring NetWinslow Homer The Fog Warning
of propaganda, yet it always – eventually – manages to spring back into its old familiar shape. History has a habit of changing the people who think they are changing it. History always has a few tricks up its frayed sleeve. It's been around a long time.
This is what was happening:
The .
The sort of historical event horizon was currently about twenty miles away from the city, and wasn't yet very noticeable. That's because the – well, call it the difference in historical pressures – wasn't yet very great. But it was growing. Out in the damp cabbage fields there was a shimmer in the air and a faint sizzle, like frying grasshoppers.
People don't alter history any more than birds alter the sky, they just make brief patterns in it. Inch by inch, implacable as a glacier and far colder, the real reality was grinding back towards Sto Lat.
misplaced stroke of Mort's scythe had cut history into two separate realities. In the city of Sto Lat Princess Keli still ruled, with a certain amount of difficulty and with the full time aid of the Royal Recogniser, who was put on the court payroll and charged with the duty of remembering that she existed. In the lands outside, though – beyond the plain, in the Ramtops, around the Circle Sea and all the way to the Rim – the traditional reality still held sway and she was quite definitely dead, the duke was king and the world was proceeding sedately according to plan, whatever that was.The point is that both realities were true

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Paul Klee Farbtafel

Paul Klee FarbtafelClaude Monet Haystack at Giverny Claude Monet Cliffs near Dieppe 2
all the trouble of touching down.
The great horse trotted into the stableyard and halted outside the double door, swishing his tail. Mort slid off and ran for the house.
And stopped, and ran back, and filled the hayrack, and ran for the house, and stopped and muttered to himself and ran back and rubbed the horse down and checked the water bucket, and ran for the house, and ran back and fetched the horseblanket down from its hook on the wall and buckled it on. Binky gave him a dignified nuzzle.
No-one seemedexistence to the world.
There were few ocean-going ships on the Disc. No captain liked to venture out of sight of a coastline. It was a sorry fact that ships which looked from a distance as though they were going over the edge of the world weren't in fact disappearing over the horizon, they were in fact to be about as Mort slipped in by the back door and made his way to the library, where even at this time of night the air seemed to be made of hot dry dust. It seemed to take years to locate Princess Keli's biography, but he found it eventually. It was a depressingly slim volume on a shelf only reachable by the library ladder, a wheeled rickety structure that strongly resembled an early siege engine.With trembling fingers he opened it at the last page, and groaned.'The princess's assassination at the age of fifteen,' he read, 'was followed by the union of Sto Lat with Sto Helit and, indirectly, the collapse of the city states of the central plain and the rise of—'He read on, unable to stop. Occasionally he groaned again.Finally he put the book back, hesitated, and then shoved it behind a few other volumes. He could still feel it there as he climbed down the ladder, shrieking its incriminating

George Frederick Watts Watts Hope

George Frederick Watts Watts HopeAlbert Bierstadt In the MountainsJohannes Vermeer The Guitar Player
anything. The food was there to start with and wasn't there later, so presumably something must have happened in between. Mort got the feeling that Death wasn't really used to all this but was doing it to put him at his ease, THEY DO IT ALL THEMSELVES, he said. THERE'S NO MAGIC. PEOPLE CANT SEE ME, THEY SIMPLY WONT ALLOW THEMSELVES TO DO IT. UNTIL IT'S TIME, OF COURSE. WIZARDS CAN SEE ME, AND CATS. BUT YOUR AVERAGE HUMAN . . . NO, NEVER. He blew a smoke ring at the sky, and added, STRANGE BUT TRUE.like an elderly bachelor uncle who has been landed with his is terrified of getting it wrong.The other diners didn't take much notice, even when Death leaned back and lit a rather fine pipe. Someone with smoke curling out of their eye sockets takes some ignoring, but everyone managed it.'Is it magic?' said Mort.WHAT DO YOU THINK? said Death. AM I REALLY HERE, BOY?'Yes,' said Mort slowly. 'I . . . I've watched people. They look at you but they don't see you, I think. You do something to their minds.'Death shook his head.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Lorenzo Lotto Venus and Cupid

Lorenzo Lotto Venus and CupidJean Fragonard The BathersThomas Gainsborough Mrs Sheridan
Granny looked blank, but only a fraction of a second. The witchmarks on the doorpost had said that the housekeeper welcomed witches and was particularly anxious for news of her four husbands; she was also in random pursuit The housekeeper swept forward with a sound like an elderly tea clipper in a gale, and beckoned Granny to follow her.
"Aye'll have the tea brought to my flat. Tea with a lot of tealeaves."
Granny stumped along after her. Old clothes? Did this fat woman really mean it? The nerve! Of course, if they were good quality .... of a fifth, hence the ginger wig and, if Granny's ears weren't deceiving her, the creak of enough whalebone to infuriate an entire ecology movement. Gullible and foolish, the signs had said. Granny withheld judgment, because city witches didn't seem that bright themselves. The housekeeper must have mistaken her expression. "Don't be afraid," she said. "May staff have distinct instructions to welcome witches, although of course they upstairs don't approve. No doubt you would like a cup of tea and something to eat?" Granny bowed solemnly. "And Aye will see if we can't find a nice bundle of old clothes for you, too," the housekeeper beamed. "Old clothes? Oh. Yes. Thank you, m'm."

Andy Warhol Sunset

Andy Warhol SunsetAndy Warhol Shadows IAndy Warhol Oxidation
feet still firmly on the floorboards. She tried to take a step forward and magical discharges crackled in the air around her. She reached out to steady herself against the wall and the ancient wooden beam under her hand stirred and and again she could see the strands of mind, the silver threads bound so closely around the purple that they took on the same shape. But now she could see where the strands ended, and where a judicious tug or push would begin to unravel them. It was so obvious she heard herself laugh, and the sound curved away in shades of orange and red and vanished into the ceiling.
Time passed. Even with the power throbbing through hey head it was a painfully hard task, like threading a needle by moonlight, but eventually she had a handful of silver. In the slow, heavy world in which she started to sprout leaves. A cyclone of magic swirled around the room, picking up dust and briefly giving it some very disturbing shapes; the jug and basin on the washstand, with the particularly fetching rosebud pattern, broke into fragments. Under the bed the third member of the traditional china trio turned into something horrible and slunk away. Granny opened her mouth to swear and thought better of it when her words blossomed out into rainbow-edged clouds. She looked down at Esk and the eagle, which seemed oblivious to all this, and tried to concentrate. She let herself slide inside its head

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Jean Francois Millet Spring

Jean Francois Millet SpringJean Francois Millet Man with a hoeLorenzo Lotto Venus and Cupid
own way. I mean, if a poet sees a daffodil he stares at it and writes a long poem about it, but Twoflower wanders off to find a book on botany. And treads on it. It's right what Cohen said. He just looks at things, but nothing he and trying to climb up one another, hands outstretched.
The Octavo dropped into the centre of the shouting mass. There was a snap. A decisive snap, the sort of snap made by a lid that doesn't intend to be opening in looks at is ever the same again. Including me, I suspect.The Disc's own sun rose. The star was already dwindling, and it wasn't quite so much competition. Good reliable Disc light poured across the enraptured landscape, like a sea of gold.Or, as the more reliable observers generally held, like golden syrup. That is a nice work like that and there were other things that had to happen.There was the Octavo, for example.As the sunlight hit it the book snapped shut and started to fall back to the tower. And many of the observers realised that dropping towards them was the single most magical thing on the Discworld.The feeling of bliss and brotherhood evaporated along with the morning dew. Rincewind and Twoflower were elbowed aside as the crowd surged forward, struggling

Leroy Neiman Chicago Key Club Bar

Leroy Neiman Chicago Key Club BarLeroy Neiman Chicago Board of TradeLeroy Neiman CasinoLeroy Neiman Carnaval Suite Passistas
'I – I may have done.'
'There's more.'
'Surely not?'
'Yes, I said I could order it and he could come back next day.'
'That doesn't sound too bad,' said Twoflower, who alone of all the people in the multiverse allowed shops to order things for him and didn't object at all to paying quite large sums of money to reimburse the shopkeeper for the inconvenience of having a bit of stock in his store often for several hours.
'It was early closing day,' said the shopkeeper.
'Yes, and I heard him rattling the doorhandle, I had this sign on the door, you know, it said something like "Closed even for the sale of Necromancer cigarettes," anyway, I heard him banging and I laughed.'
'You laughed?'
'Yes. Like this. Hnufhnufhnufblort.'
'Probably not a wise thing to do,' said Twoflower, shaking his head.
'I know, I know. My father always said, he said, Do not peddle in the affairs of wizards . . . Anyway, I heard him shouting something about never closing again, and a lot of words I couldn't understand, and then the shop – the shop – the shop came alive.'
'And you've wandered like this ever since?'
'Yes. I suppose one day I might find the sorcerer and perhaps the thing he wanted will be in stock. Until then I must go from place to place —'
'That was a terrible thing to do,' said Twoflower.
The shopkeeper wiped his nose on his apron. 'Thank you,' he said.
'Even so, he shouldn't have cursed you quite so badly,' Twoflower

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beach at Valencia

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beach at ValenciaAlexandre Cabanel HarmonyThomas Gainsborough Shepherd Boys with Dogs FightingThomas Gainsborough River Landscape
Rincewind looked around desperately for a way of escape. There wasn't one. Twoflower was standing by the altar stone with one finger in the air and an attitude of polite determination.
Rincewind remembered one day when Twoflower had thought a passing drover was beating his cattle too hard, and sockets as if trying to find a way out.
'If you don't want me to say anything, how will you know I understand what you just said?' he hissed.
'Shut up and tell me what that other idiot ish doing!'
'No, but look, if I've got to shut up, how can I—' The knife at his throat became a hot streak of pain and Rincewind decided to give logic a miss.the case he had made for decency towards animals had left Rincewind severely trampled and lightly gored. The druids were looking at Twoflower with the kind of expression normally reserved for mad sheep or the sudden appearance of a rain of frogs. Rincewind couldn't quite hear what Twoflower was saying, but a few phrases like 'ethnic folkways' and 'nuts and flowers' floated across the hushed circle.Then fingers like a bunch of cheese straws clamped over the wizard's mouth and an extremely sharp cutting edge pinked his adams apple and a damp voice right by his ear said, 'Not a shound, or you ish a dead man.'Rincewind's eyes swivelled in their

Monday, March 2, 2009

Rembrandt Bathsheba at Her Bath

Rembrandt Bathsheba at Her BathLord Frederick Leighton WeddedLord Frederick Leighton The Fisherman and the SyrenJean Auguste Dominique Ingres Perseus and Andromeda
They don't look very roomy to me," said Rincewind hurriedly, and grabbed the tourist by the arm, "so if you'd just come on, no sense in staying here-"
"Why must you always panic?" asked Twoflower petulantly.
"Because thesat down on one of the benches in front of the seats. He beckoned to Rincewind, and said:
"?Tyo yur atl ho sooten gatrunen?"
And this was awkward, because although Rincewind considered himself an expert in most of the tongues of the western segments of the Disc it was the first time that he had ever been addressed in Krullian, and he did not understand one word of it. Neither did Twoflower, but that did not stop him stepping forward and taking a breath. whole of my future life just flashed in front of my eyes, and it didn't take very long, and if you don't move now I'm going to leave without you because any second now you're going to suggest that we put on-"The door opened.Two husky young men stepped into the room. All they were wearing was a pair of woollen pants apiece. One of them was still towelling himself briskly. They both nodded at the two escapees with no apparent surprise.The taller of the two men

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Leroy Neiman International Horse Show New York

Leroy Neiman International Horse Show New YorkLeroy Neiman International CuisineLeroy Neiman High Stakes Blackjack VegasLeroy Neiman Frank at Rao's
looking sideways at the bushes.
The dragon continued through the spinney, incinerating every likely-looking bush and clump of ferns. Liartes drew his sword and waited.
Hrun dropped from a tree and landed running. Behind him the dragon roared and crashed through the bushes as it tried to turn around, but Hrun was running, running, with his gaze fixed on Liartes and a dead branch in his knee upwards with anatomical precision, but managed a wild blow that rebroke the barbarian's nose for him.
Hrun kicked away and scrambled to his feet, to find himself looking up into the wild horse-face of the dragon, its nostrils distended.
He lashed out with a foot and caught Liartes,hands.It is a little known but true fact that a two legged creature can usually beat a four legged creature over a short distance, simply because of the time it takes the quadruped to get its legs sorted out. Hrun heard the scrabble of claws behind him and then an ominous thump. The dragon had half-opened its wings and was trying to fly.As Hrun bore down on the dragonlord Liartes' sword came up wickedly, to be caught on the branch. Then Hrun cannoned into him and the two men sprawled on the ground.The dragon roared.Liartes screamed as Hrun brought a