Pino Morning DreamsPino LONG STEMMED LOVELIESPino DRESSING TABLEPino DAYDREAMPino DANCING IN BARCELONA
beyond. ‘No good will come of this.’
‘Just watch where you’re putting your feet. Now see what you’ve done? Didn’t I tell you to watch where you were putting your feet? Anyway, come on.’
The wizards skulked, or in the Dean’s case, squelched furtively through the backstage area and into the darkened, bustling auditorium, where Windle Poons was keeping some seats free by the simple expedient of waving his her on the . . . the fundament!’
Poons sniggered. ‘Hubba‑hubba! Does your mother know you’re out?’ he cackled.
‘It’s all too much for him,’ the Chair complained. ‘We never should have brought him.’
‘Do you realize we’re missing our dinner?’ said the Dean.
The wizards fell silent at this. A stout woman edging past Poons’ wheelchair suddenly started and looked around suspiciously and saw nothing except a dear old man, obviously fast asleep.stick at anyone who came near them. They sidled in, tripping over one another’s legs, and sat down.They stared at the shadowy grey rectangle at the other end of the hall.After a while the Chair said, ‘Can’t see what people see in it, myself.’‘Has anyone done "Deformed Rabbit"?’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.‘It hasn’t started yet,’ hissed the Dean.‘I’m hungry,’ complained Poons. ‘I’m an old man, mm, and I’m hungry.’‘Do you know what he did?’ said the Chair. ‘Do you know what the old fool did? When a young lady with a torch was showing us to our seats he pinched
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Leroy Neiman Lady Liberty
Leroy Neiman Lady LibertyLeroy Neiman Jour du SoleilLeroy Neiman Jazz HornsLeroy Neiman Island Hole at SawgrassLeroy Neiman International Horse Show New York
eldritch up there.’
‘So we all came down,’ said Squeak. ‘Mr Thumpy and the duck are hiding out in the dunes-’
Another cat dropped off the fence beside them. It was large and ginger and not blessed with Holy Wood intelligence. It ‘Not a chance,’ he said. ‘Who’s going to pay good money to see cats and mice chasing one another? They’re only interested even in dogs if they jus’ pander to humans the whole time, so they certainly ain’t going to watch a cat chase a mouse. Take it from me. I know about movin’ pictures.’
‘Then it’s about time your humans got it sorted out so we can go home,’ snapped stared at the sight of a mouse looking relaxed in the presence of a cat. Squeak nudged cat on the paw. ‘Get rid of it,’ he said. Cat glared at the newcomer. ‘Sod off,’ he said. ‘Go on, beat it. Gods; thish ish so humiliating.’ ‘Not just for you,’ said Gaspode, as the new cat trotted away shaking its head. ‘If some of the dogs in this town see me chatting to a cat, my street cred is going to go way down.’ ‘We were reckoning’, said the cat, with the occasional nervous glance towards Squeak, ‘that maybe we ought to give in and see if, see if, see if-’ ‘He’s trying to say there might be a place for us in moving pictures,’ said Squeak. ‘What do you think?’ ‘As a double act?’ said Gaspode. They nodded.
eldritch up there.’
‘So we all came down,’ said Squeak. ‘Mr Thumpy and the duck are hiding out in the dunes-’
Another cat dropped off the fence beside them. It was large and ginger and not blessed with Holy Wood intelligence. It ‘Not a chance,’ he said. ‘Who’s going to pay good money to see cats and mice chasing one another? They’re only interested even in dogs if they jus’ pander to humans the whole time, so they certainly ain’t going to watch a cat chase a mouse. Take it from me. I know about movin’ pictures.’
‘Then it’s about time your humans got it sorted out so we can go home,’ snapped stared at the sight of a mouse looking relaxed in the presence of a cat. Squeak nudged cat on the paw. ‘Get rid of it,’ he said. Cat glared at the newcomer. ‘Sod off,’ he said. ‘Go on, beat it. Gods; thish ish so humiliating.’ ‘Not just for you,’ said Gaspode, as the new cat trotted away shaking its head. ‘If some of the dogs in this town see me chatting to a cat, my street cred is going to go way down.’ ‘We were reckoning’, said the cat, with the occasional nervous glance towards Squeak, ‘that maybe we ought to give in and see if, see if, see if-’ ‘He’s trying to say there might be a place for us in moving pictures,’ said Squeak. ‘What do you think?’ ‘As a double act?’ said Gaspode. They nodded.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Paul Cezanne Still Life with Flowers and Fruit
Paul Cezanne Still Life with Flowers and FruitPaul Cezanne Still Life with Apples and OrangesPaul Cezanne Still Life with a SkullPaul Cezanne Jas de Bouffan the PoolPaul Cezanne House of Pere Lacroix
was noon. Holy Wood Hill glistened under the sun, like a champagne-flavoured wine gum that had been half-sucked. The handlemen turned their handles, the extras charged enthusiastically backwards and forwards, Dibbler ‘ ‘S a good name for this camel,’ said the handler fervently.
‘There’s nothin’ wrong with bein’ a son of a bitch,’ said a voice behind him. ‘I’m a son of a bitch. My father was a son of a bitch, you greasy nightshirt-wearin’ bastard.’
The handler grinned nervously at Victor and turned around. There was no-one behind him. He looked down.
‘Woof,’ said Gaspode, and wagged what was almost a tail. raged at everyone, and cinematographic history was made with a shot of three dwarfs, four men, two trolls and a dog all riding one camel and screaming in terror for it to stop. Victor was introduced to the camel. It blinked its long eyelashes at him and appeared to chew soap. It was kneeling down and it looked like a camel that had had a long morning and wasn’t about to take any shit from anyone. So far it had kicked three people. ‘What’s it called?’ he said cautiously. ‘We call it Evil-Minded Son of a Bitch,’ said the newly-appointed Vice-President in Charge of Camels. ‘That doesn’t sound like a name.’
was noon. Holy Wood Hill glistened under the sun, like a champagne-flavoured wine gum that had been half-sucked. The handlemen turned their handles, the extras charged enthusiastically backwards and forwards, Dibbler ‘ ‘S a good name for this camel,’ said the handler fervently.
‘There’s nothin’ wrong with bein’ a son of a bitch,’ said a voice behind him. ‘I’m a son of a bitch. My father was a son of a bitch, you greasy nightshirt-wearin’ bastard.’
The handler grinned nervously at Victor and turned around. There was no-one behind him. He looked down.
‘Woof,’ said Gaspode, and wagged what was almost a tail. raged at everyone, and cinematographic history was made with a shot of three dwarfs, four men, two trolls and a dog all riding one camel and screaming in terror for it to stop. Victor was introduced to the camel. It blinked its long eyelashes at him and appeared to chew soap. It was kneeling down and it looked like a camel that had had a long morning and wasn’t about to take any shit from anyone. So far it had kicked three people. ‘What’s it called?’ he said cautiously. ‘We call it Evil-Minded Son of a Bitch,’ said the newly-appointed Vice-President in Charge of Camels. ‘That doesn’t sound like a name.’
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Thomas Kinkade Sunrise Chapel
Thomas Kinkade Sunrise ChapelThomas Kinkade Streams of Living WaterThomas Kinkade Spirit of ChristmasThomas Kinkade Serenity CoveThomas Kinkade Petals of Hope
Silverfish?’ said Dibbler.
Silverfish, who had been cautiously crossing the studio with a box of fresh film stock, hesitated at the sight of a skinny figure bearing down on him like a long-lost weasel. Dibbler’s expression was the expression worn by something .
‘And I’d just like you to know’, Dibbler went on, ‘that we’re all incredibly impressed at what you boys are doing here.’
Silverfish watched his own hand being strenuously made friends with, and grinned uncertainly.
‘You are?’ he ventured. long and sleek and white as it swims over the reef and into the warm shallow waters of the kiddies’ paddling area. ‘Yes?’ said Silverfish. ‘Who’re you? How did you get–’ ‘Dibbler’s the name,’ said Dibbler. ‘But I’d like you to call me Throat.’ He clasped Silverfish’s unresisting hand and then placed his other hand on the man’s shoulder and stepped forward, pumping the first hand vigorously. The effect was of acute affability, and it meant that if Silverfish backed away he would dislocate his own elbow
Silverfish?’ said Dibbler.
Silverfish, who had been cautiously crossing the studio with a box of fresh film stock, hesitated at the sight of a skinny figure bearing down on him like a long-lost weasel. Dibbler’s expression was the expression worn by something .
‘And I’d just like you to know’, Dibbler went on, ‘that we’re all incredibly impressed at what you boys are doing here.’
Silverfish watched his own hand being strenuously made friends with, and grinned uncertainly.
‘You are?’ he ventured. long and sleek and white as it swims over the reef and into the warm shallow waters of the kiddies’ paddling area. ‘Yes?’ said Silverfish. ‘Who’re you? How did you get–’ ‘Dibbler’s the name,’ said Dibbler. ‘But I’d like you to call me Throat.’ He clasped Silverfish’s unresisting hand and then placed his other hand on the man’s shoulder and stepped forward, pumping the first hand vigorously. The effect was of acute affability, and it meant that if Silverfish backed away he would dislocate his own elbow
Monday, March 23, 2009
Diane Romanello Sunset Beach
Diane Romanello Sunset BeachGustav Klimt The Virgins (Le Vergini)Gustav Klimt The Three Ages of WomanGustav Klimt The Fulfillment (detail I)Gustav Klimt The Embrace (detail_ square)
Across various dimensions it had provided the Sphinx with considerable entertainment and innumerable meals.
This was not known to Teppic as he led You Bastard through the swirling mists, but the bones he crunched underfoot gave him enough essential detail.
A lot of There was no sound but the drip of the mist and the occasional sucking noise of You Bastard trying to extract moisture from the air.
'You're a sphinx,' said Teppic.
'The Sphinx,' corrected the Sphinx.
'Gosh. We've got any amount of statues to you at home.' Teppic people had died here. And it was reasonable to assume that the more recent ones had seen the remains of the earlier ones, and would therefore have proceeded stealthily. And that hadn't worked. No sense in creeping along, then. Besides, some of the rocks that loomed out of the mists had a very distressing shape. This one here, for example, looked exactly like- 'Halt,' said the Sphinx.
Across various dimensions it had provided the Sphinx with considerable entertainment and innumerable meals.
This was not known to Teppic as he led You Bastard through the swirling mists, but the bones he crunched underfoot gave him enough essential detail.
A lot of There was no sound but the drip of the mist and the occasional sucking noise of You Bastard trying to extract moisture from the air.
'You're a sphinx,' said Teppic.
'The Sphinx,' corrected the Sphinx.
'Gosh. We've got any amount of statues to you at home.' Teppic people had died here. And it was reasonable to assume that the more recent ones had seen the remains of the earlier ones, and would therefore have proceeded stealthily. And that hadn't worked. No sense in creeping along, then. Besides, some of the rocks that loomed out of the mists had a very distressing shape. This one here, for example, looked exactly like- 'Halt,' said the Sphinx.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Henri Rousseau The Snake Charmer
Henri Rousseau The Snake CharmerHenri Rousseau The DreamPaul Cezanne Mount Sainte VictoirePaul Cezanne Card PlayersLaurie Maitland fire
'What?'
'Well, our mam says the king goes on living, sort of thing, after all this stuffing and stitching. Sort of in the Netherworldhis life in the kingdom talking to a few priests and so forth. He knew objectively there had been other people around - servants and gardeners and so forth - but they figured in his life as blobs. He was at the top, and then his family, and then the priests and the nobles of course, and then there were the blobs. Damn fine blobs, of course, some of the finest blobs in the world, as loyal a collection of blobs as a king might hope to rule. But blobs, none the less.
But now he was absolutely engrossed in the daily details of Dil's shy hopes for advancement within the Guild, and the unfolding story of Gern's clumsy overtures to Glwenda, the garlic farmer's daughter who lived nearby. He listened . With your stitching in him.' And several sacks of straw and a couple of buckets of pitch, thought the shade of the king sadly. And the wrapping off Gern's lunch, although he didn't blame the lad, who'd just forgotten where he'd put it. All eternity with someone's lunch wrapping as part of your vital organs. There had been half a sausage left, too. He'd become quite attached to Dil, and even to Gern. He seemed still to be attached to his body, too - at least, he felt uncomfortable if he wandered more than a few hundred yards away from it - and so in the course of the last couple of days he'd learned quite a lot about them. Funny, really. He'd spent the whole of
'What?'
'Well, our mam says the king goes on living, sort of thing, after all this stuffing and stitching. Sort of in the Netherworldhis life in the kingdom talking to a few priests and so forth. He knew objectively there had been other people around - servants and gardeners and so forth - but they figured in his life as blobs. He was at the top, and then his family, and then the priests and the nobles of course, and then there were the blobs. Damn fine blobs, of course, some of the finest blobs in the world, as loyal a collection of blobs as a king might hope to rule. But blobs, none the less.
But now he was absolutely engrossed in the daily details of Dil's shy hopes for advancement within the Guild, and the unfolding story of Gern's clumsy overtures to Glwenda, the garlic farmer's daughter who lived nearby. He listened . With your stitching in him.' And several sacks of straw and a couple of buckets of pitch, thought the shade of the king sadly. And the wrapping off Gern's lunch, although he didn't blame the lad, who'd just forgotten where he'd put it. All eternity with someone's lunch wrapping as part of your vital organs. There had been half a sausage left, too. He'd become quite attached to Dil, and even to Gern. He seemed still to be attached to his body, too - at least, he felt uncomfortable if he wandered more than a few hundred yards away from it - and so in the course of the last couple of days he'd learned quite a lot about them. Funny, really. He'd spent the whole of
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Pino MOTHER'S LOVE
Pino MOTHER'S LOVEPino Morning DreamsPino LONG STEMMED LOVELIESPino DRESSING TABLEPino DAYDREAM
say? Excuse me? Billem's got this terrible thing about rats, if you don't mind. Cooeee!'
Let the camera of the mind's eye pan slowly back along the dim, ancient corridors, taking in the dripping fungi, the damp-earth odours of autumn drifted over the velvety-dark moors, where the watery starlight was echoed by one spark of a fire.rusting ehains, the damp, the shadows . . .'Can anyone hear us? Look, it's really too much. There's been some laughable mistake, look, the wigs come right off. . .'Let the plaintive echoes dwindle among the cobwebbed corners and rodent-haunted tunnels, until they're no more than a reedy whisper on the cusp of hearing.'I say? I say, excuse me, help?'Someone is bound to come down here again one of these days.Some time afterwards Magrat asked Hwel if he believed in long engagements. The dwarf paused in the task of loading up 'About a week, maximum,' he said at last. 'With matinees, of course.' A month went past. The early
say? Excuse me? Billem's got this terrible thing about rats, if you don't mind. Cooeee!'
Let the camera of the mind's eye pan slowly back along the dim, ancient corridors, taking in the dripping fungi, the damp-earth odours of autumn drifted over the velvety-dark moors, where the watery starlight was echoed by one spark of a fire.rusting ehains, the damp, the shadows . . .'Can anyone hear us? Look, it's really too much. There's been some laughable mistake, look, the wigs come right off. . .'Let the plaintive echoes dwindle among the cobwebbed corners and rodent-haunted tunnels, until they're no more than a reedy whisper on the cusp of hearing.'I say? I say, excuse me, help?'Someone is bound to come down here again one of these days.Some time afterwards Magrat asked Hwel if he believed in long engagements. The dwarf paused in the task of loading up 'About a week, maximum,' he said at last. 'With matinees, of course.' A month went past. The early
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Sandro Botticelli Madonna with the Child
Sandro Botticelli Madonna with the ChildSandro Botticelli Madonna and ChildSandro Botticelli Madonna and Child and Two AngelsJean Beraud The Theatre des VarietesJean Beraud Symphony in Red and Gold
don't blame me if it doesn't work properly, that's all.
Lessee . . . "Baboon hair and . . ." Who's got the baboon hair? Oh, thank you, Gytha, though it looks more like cat hair to me, but never mind. "Baboon hair and mandrake root", and if that's real mandrake I'm very surprised, "carrot juice and tongue of boot", I see, a little humour, I suppose . . .'
'Please hurry!'
'All right, all right. "Owl hoot and glow-worm glimmer. Boil – and then allow to simmer." '
'You know, or he isn 't. . .'
He got up and doused his face in the washbasin.
Silence rolled in swathes from Hwel's room. Tomjon slipped on his clothes and pushed open the door.
It looked as though it had snowed indoors, great heavy flakes that had drifted into odd corners of the room. Hwel sat at his low table in the middle of the floor, his head pillowed on a pile of paper, snoring.
Tomjon tiptoed across the room and piled up a discarded ball of paper at random, Esme, this doesn't taste half bad.''You 're not supposed to drink it, you daft doyenne!'Tomjon sat bolt upright in bed. That was them again, the same faces, the bickering voices, distorted by tune and space.Even after he looked out of the window, where fresh daylight was streaming through the city, he could still hear the voices grumbling into the distance, like old thunder, fading away . . .'I for one didn't believe it about the tongue of boot.''It's still very runny. Do you think we should put some cornflour into it?''It won't matter. Either he's on his way
don't blame me if it doesn't work properly, that's all.
Lessee . . . "Baboon hair and . . ." Who's got the baboon hair? Oh, thank you, Gytha, though it looks more like cat hair to me, but never mind. "Baboon hair and mandrake root", and if that's real mandrake I'm very surprised, "carrot juice and tongue of boot", I see, a little humour, I suppose . . .'
'Please hurry!'
'All right, all right. "Owl hoot and glow-worm glimmer. Boil – and then allow to simmer." '
'You know, or he isn 't. . .'
He got up and doused his face in the washbasin.
Silence rolled in swathes from Hwel's room. Tomjon slipped on his clothes and pushed open the door.
It looked as though it had snowed indoors, great heavy flakes that had drifted into odd corners of the room. Hwel sat at his low table in the middle of the floor, his head pillowed on a pile of paper, snoring.
Tomjon tiptoed across the room and piled up a discarded ball of paper at random, Esme, this doesn't taste half bad.''You 're not supposed to drink it, you daft doyenne!'Tomjon sat bolt upright in bed. That was them again, the same faces, the bickering voices, distorted by tune and space.Even after he looked out of the window, where fresh daylight was streaming through the city, he could still hear the voices grumbling into the distance, like old thunder, fading away . . .'I for one didn't believe it about the tongue of boot.''It's still very runny. Do you think we should put some cornflour into it?''It won't matter. Either he's on his way
Monday, March 16, 2009
Thomas Kinkade The Beginning of a Perfect Day
Thomas Kinkade The Beginning of a Perfect DayThomas Kinkade Sunset at Riverbend FarmThomas Kinkade Seaside HideawayThomas Kinkade Pools of SerenityThomas Kinkade Make a Wish Cottage 2
took another step towards the royal couple, waving the dagger. A faint gurgle escaped from the lips of the duke, glad to be out of there.
'He's doing well, isn't he,' said Nanny, as Magrat helped her out of her prison.
'Isn't that the old king? Can they see him?'
'Shouldn't think so.'
King Verence staggered slightly under the weight. He was too old for such poltergeist activity; you had to be an adolescent for this . . .
'Let me just get a grip on this thing,' he said. 'Oh, damn . . .'
The knife !' she yelled, and spotted the Fool hovering near the door. 'Fool! Fetch the guards!'
'They're busy. We were just leaving,' said Granny. 'Which one of you is the duke?'
Felmet stared pink-eyed up at her from his half-crouch in the corner. A thin dribble of saliva escaped from the corner of his mouth, and he giggled.dropped from the ghost's tenuous grasp and clattered to the floor. Granny Weatherwax stepped forward smartly and put her foot on it.'The dead shouldn't kill the living,' she said. 'It could be a dangerous wossname, precedent. We'd all be outnumbered for one thing.'The duchess surfaced from her terror first. There had been knives swooping through the air and exploding doors, and now these women were defying her in her own dungeons. She couldn't be sure how she was supposed to react to the supernatural items, but she had very firm ideas about how she should tackle the last one.Her mouth opened like the gateway to a red hell. 'Guards
took another step towards the royal couple, waving the dagger. A faint gurgle escaped from the lips of the duke, glad to be out of there.
'He's doing well, isn't he,' said Nanny, as Magrat helped her out of her prison.
'Isn't that the old king? Can they see him?'
'Shouldn't think so.'
King Verence staggered slightly under the weight. He was too old for such poltergeist activity; you had to be an adolescent for this . . .
'Let me just get a grip on this thing,' he said. 'Oh, damn . . .'
The knife !' she yelled, and spotted the Fool hovering near the door. 'Fool! Fetch the guards!'
'They're busy. We were just leaving,' said Granny. 'Which one of you is the duke?'
Felmet stared pink-eyed up at her from his half-crouch in the corner. A thin dribble of saliva escaped from the corner of his mouth, and he giggled.dropped from the ghost's tenuous grasp and clattered to the floor. Granny Weatherwax stepped forward smartly and put her foot on it.'The dead shouldn't kill the living,' she said. 'It could be a dangerous wossname, precedent. We'd all be outnumbered for one thing.'The duchess surfaced from her terror first. There had been knives swooping through the air and exploding doors, and now these women were defying her in her own dungeons. She couldn't be sure how she was supposed to react to the supernatural items, but she had very firm ideas about how she should tackle the last one.Her mouth opened like the gateway to a red hell. 'Guards
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres Napoleon I on His Imperial Throne
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres Napoleon I on His Imperial ThroneJean Auguste Dominique Ingres Mme MoitessierJean Auguste Dominique Ingres La Grande baigneuseGuido Reni Archangel MichaelGuido Reni The Archangel Michael
Granny Weatherwax milked and fed the goats, banked me fire put a cloth over the minor and pulled her broomstick out from behind the door. She went out, locked the back door behind her, and hung the key on its nail in the privy.
This was magic caught, and she managed to vault clumsily on to it before it trundled into the night sky as gracefully as a duck with one wing missing.
From above the trees came a muffled curse against all dwarfish mechanics.
Most witches preferred to live in isolated cottages with the traditional curly chimneys and weed-grown thatch. Granny Weatherwax approved of this; it was no good being a witch unless you let people know.quite sufficient. Only once, in the entire history of witchery in the Ramtops, had a thief broken into a witch's cottage. The witch concerned visited the most terrible Granny sat on the broom and muttered a few words, but without much conviction. After a further couple of tries she got off, fiddled with the binding, and had another go. There was a suspicion of glitter from one end of the stick, which quickly died away.'Drat,' she said, under her breath.She looked around carefully, in case anyone was watching. In fact it was only a hunting badger who, hearing the thumping of running feet, poked its head out from the bushes and saw Granny hurtling down the path with the broomstick held stiff-armed beside her. At last the
Granny Weatherwax milked and fed the goats, banked me fire put a cloth over the minor and pulled her broomstick out from behind the door. She went out, locked the back door behind her, and hung the key on its nail in the privy.
This was magic caught, and she managed to vault clumsily on to it before it trundled into the night sky as gracefully as a duck with one wing missing.
From above the trees came a muffled curse against all dwarfish mechanics.
Most witches preferred to live in isolated cottages with the traditional curly chimneys and weed-grown thatch. Granny Weatherwax approved of this; it was no good being a witch unless you let people know.quite sufficient. Only once, in the entire history of witchery in the Ramtops, had a thief broken into a witch's cottage. The witch concerned visited the most terrible Granny sat on the broom and muttered a few words, but without much conviction. After a further couple of tries she got off, fiddled with the binding, and had another go. There was a suspicion of glitter from one end of the stick, which quickly died away.'Drat,' she said, under her breath.She looked around carefully, in case anyone was watching. In fact it was only a hunting badger who, hearing the thumping of running feet, poked its head out from the bushes and saw Granny hurtling down the path with the broomstick held stiff-armed beside her. At last the
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Leroy Neiman Island Hole at Sawgrass
Leroy Neiman Island Hole at SawgrassLeroy Neiman International Horse Show New YorkLeroy Neiman International Cuisine
'Sorry.'
'They've got to be worked out,' said Albert flatly, 'and then the correct lives have got to be got. The hourglasses, you call them. The actual Duty is the easy job.'
'Can . It wasn't as though people buttonholed Death to tell him another story, or clapped him on the back and said things like 'You've got time for a quick half in there, my old mate, no need to rush off home' or invited him to make up a skittles team and come out for a Klatchian take-away afterwards, or . . . It struck Mort with sudden, terrible poignancy that Death must be the loneliest creature in the universe. In the great party of Creation, he was always in the kitchen.you do it?''No. Can you?''No!'Albert sucked reflectively at his peppermint. That's the whole world in the gyppo, then,' he said.'Look, I can't see why you're so worried. I expect he's just got held up somewhere,' said Mort, but it sounded feeble even to him
'Sorry.'
'They've got to be worked out,' said Albert flatly, 'and then the correct lives have got to be got. The hourglasses, you call them. The actual Duty is the easy job.'
'Can . It wasn't as though people buttonholed Death to tell him another story, or clapped him on the back and said things like 'You've got time for a quick half in there, my old mate, no need to rush off home' or invited him to make up a skittles team and come out for a Klatchian take-away afterwards, or . . . It struck Mort with sudden, terrible poignancy that Death must be the loneliest creature in the universe. In the great party of Creation, he was always in the kitchen.you do it?''No. Can you?''No!'Albert sucked reflectively at his peppermint. That's the whole world in the gyppo, then,' he said.'Look, I can't see why you're so worried. I expect he's just got held up somewhere,' said Mort, but it sounded feeble even to him
Paul Gauguin Breton Girls Dancing
Paul Gauguin Breton Girls DancingHenri Matisse The MoroccansHenri Matisse Still Life with Oranges
'Have you been listening to me?' snapped Keli.
'Do you feel invisible? In yourself, I mean?' said Gutwell, indistinctly.
'Of course not. I just feel angry. So I want you to tell my fortune.'
'Well, I don't know about that, it all sounds rather medical to me and —'
'I can pay.', but he just sat there trying to pick bits of mushroom out of his robe.
'I understand she's got a foul temper on her,' said Keli. 'I wouldn't be surprised 'It's illegal, you see,' said Cutwell wretchedly. 'The old king expressly forbade fortune telling in Sto Lat. He didn't like wizards much.''I can pay a lot.''Mrs Nugent was telling me this new girl is likely to be worse. A right haughty one, she said. Not the sort to look kindly on practitioners of the subtle arts, I fear.'Keli smiled. Members of the court who had seen that smile before would have hastened to drag Gutwell out of the way and into a place of safety, like the next continent
'Have you been listening to me?' snapped Keli.
'Do you feel invisible? In yourself, I mean?' said Gutwell, indistinctly.
'Of course not. I just feel angry. So I want you to tell my fortune.'
'Well, I don't know about that, it all sounds rather medical to me and —'
'I can pay.', but he just sat there trying to pick bits of mushroom out of his robe.
'I understand she's got a foul temper on her,' said Keli. 'I wouldn't be surprised 'It's illegal, you see,' said Cutwell wretchedly. 'The old king expressly forbade fortune telling in Sto Lat. He didn't like wizards much.''I can pay a lot.''Mrs Nugent was telling me this new girl is likely to be worse. A right haughty one, she said. Not the sort to look kindly on practitioners of the subtle arts, I fear.'Keli smiled. Members of the court who had seen that smile before would have hastened to drag Gutwell out of the way and into a place of safety, like the next continent
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Vincent van Gogh Bedroom Arles
Vincent van Gogh Bedroom ArlesVincent van Gogh Almond Branches in BloomUnknown Artist Ford Smith Just Between Us
'Well, I think it was because you were up to your knees in horseshit, to tell you the truth.'
Death and about a bit more. You know. Stalking the streets. My granny's almanack's got a picture of you with a scythe and stuff.'
I SEE. I AM AFRAID IT IS HARD TO EXPLAIN UNLESS YOU KNOW ABOUT POINT INCARNATION AND NODE FOCUSING. I DON'T EXPECT YOU DO?
'I don't think so.'
GENERALLY I'M ONLY EXPECTED TO MAKE AN ACTUAL APPEARANCE looked at him for a long time. Mort shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.ABSOLUTELY CORRECT, snapped Death. CLARITY OF THOUGHT. REALISTIC APPROACH. VERY IMPORTANT IN A JOB LIKE OURS.'Yes, sir. Sir?'HMM? Death was struggling with the index.'People die all the time, sir, don't they? Millions. You must be very busy. But —'Death gave Mort the look he was coming to be familiar with. It started off as blank surprise, flickered briefly towards annoyance, called in for a drink at recognition and settled finally on vague forbearance.BUT?'I'd have thought you'd have been, well, out
'Well, I think it was because you were up to your knees in horseshit, to tell you the truth.'
Death and about a bit more. You know. Stalking the streets. My granny's almanack's got a picture of you with a scythe and stuff.'
I SEE. I AM AFRAID IT IS HARD TO EXPLAIN UNLESS YOU KNOW ABOUT POINT INCARNATION AND NODE FOCUSING. I DON'T EXPECT YOU DO?
'I don't think so.'
GENERALLY I'M ONLY EXPECTED TO MAKE AN ACTUAL APPEARANCE looked at him for a long time. Mort shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.ABSOLUTELY CORRECT, snapped Death. CLARITY OF THOUGHT. REALISTIC APPROACH. VERY IMPORTANT IN A JOB LIKE OURS.'Yes, sir. Sir?'HMM? Death was struggling with the index.'People die all the time, sir, don't they? Millions. You must be very busy. But —'Death gave Mort the look he was coming to be familiar with. It started off as blank surprise, flickered briefly towards annoyance, called in for a drink at recognition and settled finally on vague forbearance.BUT?'I'd have thought you'd have been, well, out
Monday, March 9, 2009
Julius LeBlanc Stewart At Home
Julius LeBlanc Stewart At HomeTitian Sacred and Profane LoveFrancisco de Goya The Parasol
the murk.
"Well?" she said.
"Well what?" said Cutangle.
"You said you knew all about boats."
"No. I said you didn't."
"Oh."
They hung on as the boat wallowed heavily, miraculously righted itself, and was carried backwards downstream.
"When you said you hadn't been in a boat since you were a boy. . ." Granny began.
"I was two years old, I think."
The boat caught Cutangle shifted uneasily on his bench.
"What have you in mind?" he said.
"The water is supposed to be outside the boat, I know that much!" Granny pointed to the dark tide sloshing around the bilges: "Fill your boots with water and tip it over the side!" on a whirlpool, spun around, and shot off across the flow. "I had you down as the sort of boy who was in and out of boats all day long." "I was born up in the mountains. I get seasick on damp grass, if you must know," said Cutangle. The boat banged heavily against a submerged tree trunk, and a wavelet lapped the prow. "I know a spell against drowning," he added miserably. "I'm glad about that." "Only you have to say it while you're standing on dry land." "Fake your boots off." Granny commanded. "What?" "Take your boots off, man!"
Cutangle nodded. He felt that the last couple of hours had somehow carried him
the murk.
"Well?" she said.
"Well what?" said Cutangle.
"You said you knew all about boats."
"No. I said you didn't."
"Oh."
They hung on as the boat wallowed heavily, miraculously righted itself, and was carried backwards downstream.
"When you said you hadn't been in a boat since you were a boy. . ." Granny began.
"I was two years old, I think."
The boat caught Cutangle shifted uneasily on his bench.
"What have you in mind?" he said.
"The water is supposed to be outside the boat, I know that much!" Granny pointed to the dark tide sloshing around the bilges: "Fill your boots with water and tip it over the side!" on a whirlpool, spun around, and shot off across the flow. "I had you down as the sort of boy who was in and out of boats all day long." "I was born up in the mountains. I get seasick on damp grass, if you must know," said Cutangle. The boat banged heavily against a submerged tree trunk, and a wavelet lapped the prow. "I know a spell against drowning," he added miserably. "I'm glad about that." "Only you have to say it while you're standing on dry land." "Fake your boots off." Granny commanded. "What?" "Take your boots off, man!"
Cutangle nodded. He felt that the last couple of hours had somehow carried him
Thomas Kinkade The Night Before Christmas
Thomas Kinkade The Night Before ChristmasThomas Kinkade The Good LifeThomas Kinkade Stairway to Paradise
important, meant that she was undisturbed.
She was getting a bit worried about magic.
It was definitely getting out of control. She wasn't doing magic, it was just happening around her. And she sensed that people probably wouldn't be too happy if they knew.
It meant forest, through which the barges traveled in the dead centre of the river with the men armed and the women below - except for Esk, who sat listening with interest to the snortings and sneezings that followed them through the bushes on the banks. There were stretches of farmland. There were several towns much larger than Ohulan. There were even some mountains, although they were old and flat and not young and frisky like her mountains. Not that if she washed up she had to clatter and splash at length to conceal the fact that the dishes were cleaning themselves. If she did some darning she had to do it on some private part of the deck to conceal the fact that the edges of the hole ravelled themselves together as if . . . as if by magic. Then she woke up on the second day of her voyage to find that several of the fleeces around the spot where she had hidden the staff had combed, carded and spun themselves into neat skeins during the night. She put all thoughts of lighting fires out of her head. There were compensations, though. Every sluggish turn of the great brown river brought new scenes. There were dark stretches hemmed in with deep
important, meant that she was undisturbed.
She was getting a bit worried about magic.
It was definitely getting out of control. She wasn't doing magic, it was just happening around her. And she sensed that people probably wouldn't be too happy if they knew.
It meant forest, through which the barges traveled in the dead centre of the river with the men armed and the women below - except for Esk, who sat listening with interest to the snortings and sneezings that followed them through the bushes on the banks. There were stretches of farmland. There were several towns much larger than Ohulan. There were even some mountains, although they were old and flat and not young and frisky like her mountains. Not that if she washed up she had to clatter and splash at length to conceal the fact that the dishes were cleaning themselves. If she did some darning she had to do it on some private part of the deck to conceal the fact that the edges of the hole ravelled themselves together as if . . . as if by magic. Then she woke up on the second day of her voyage to find that several of the fleeces around the spot where she had hidden the staff had combed, carded and spun themselves into neat skeins during the night. She put all thoughts of lighting fires out of her head. There were compensations, though. Every sluggish turn of the great brown river brought new scenes. There were dark stretches hemmed in with deep
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Thomas Kinkade NASCAR THUNDER
Thomas Kinkade NASCAR THUNDERThomas Kinkade LondonThomas Kinkade Light of Freedom
Shouldn't her chest be going up and down?
Gulta pulled himself together.
"We ought to go and get someone and we ought to go now because it will get dark in a minute," he said flatly. "But I think that's what you're supposed to do. And then -"
There was a scratching from the windowsill. A crow had landed, and stood there blinking suspiciously at them. Gulta shouted and threw his hat at it. It flew off with a reproachful caw and he shut the window.
"I've seen it around here before," he said. "I think Granny feeds it. Fed it," he corrected himself. "Anyway, we'll be back with people, we'll be hardly any time. Come on, Ce."Cern will stay here." His brother looked at him in horror. "What for?" he said."Someone has got to stay with dead people," said Gulta. "Remember when old Uncle Derghart died and Father had to go and sit up with all the candles and things all night? Otherwise something nasty comes and takes your soul off to . . . to somewhere," he ended lamely. "And then people come back and haunt you." Cern opened his mouth to start to cry again. Esk said hurriedly, "I'll stay. I don't mind. It's only Granny." Gulta looked at her in relief. "Light some candles or something," he said. "
Shouldn't her chest be going up and down?
Gulta pulled himself together.
"We ought to go and get someone and we ought to go now because it will get dark in a minute," he said flatly. "But I think that's what you're supposed to do. And then -"
There was a scratching from the windowsill. A crow had landed, and stood there blinking suspiciously at them. Gulta shouted and threw his hat at it. It flew off with a reproachful caw and he shut the window.
"I've seen it around here before," he said. "I think Granny feeds it. Fed it," he corrected himself. "Anyway, we'll be back with people, we'll be hardly any time. Come on, Ce."Cern will stay here." His brother looked at him in horror. "What for?" he said."Someone has got to stay with dead people," said Gulta. "Remember when old Uncle Derghart died and Father had to go and sit up with all the candles and things all night? Otherwise something nasty comes and takes your soul off to . . . to somewhere," he ended lamely. "And then people come back and haunt you." Cern opened his mouth to start to cry again. Esk said hurriedly, "I'll stay. I don't mind. It's only Granny." Gulta looked at her in relief. "Light some candles or something," he said. "
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Pablo Picasso Large Nude in Red Armchair
Pablo Picasso Large Nude in Red ArmchairTamara de Lempicka Woman in RedTamara de Lempicka Two GirlsTamara de Lempicka The Musician in Blue
although they knew that Great A'Tuin's mind would be big they hadn't realised that it would be slow.
'There's a bunch of wizards that have been reading it in shifts for thirty years,' said Rincewind. 'All they've found out is that Great A'Tuin is looking forward to something.'
'What?'
'Who knows?'
They rode in silence for a while through a rough country where huge limestone blocks lined the track. time.
'Go on – follow him. You're nothing to do with me.'
The Luggage retracted its little legs and settled down on the track.
'Well, I'm going,' said Rincewind. 'I mean it,' he added.
He turned the horse's head back towards the new horizon, and glanced Eventually Twoflower said, 'We ought to go back, you know.''Look, we'll reach the Smarl tomorrow,' said Rincewind. 'Nothing will happen to them out here, I don't see why —'He was talking to himself. Twoflower had wheeled his horse and was trotting back, demonstrating all the horsemanship of a sack of potatoes.Rincewind looked down. The Luggage regarded him owlishly.'What are you looking at?' said the wizard. 'He can go back if he wants, why should I bother?'The Luggage said nothing.'Look, he's not my responsibility,' said Rincewind. let's be absolutely clear about that.'The Luggage said nothing, but louder this
although they knew that Great A'Tuin's mind would be big they hadn't realised that it would be slow.
'There's a bunch of wizards that have been reading it in shifts for thirty years,' said Rincewind. 'All they've found out is that Great A'Tuin is looking forward to something.'
'What?'
'Who knows?'
They rode in silence for a while through a rough country where huge limestone blocks lined the track. time.
'Go on – follow him. You're nothing to do with me.'
The Luggage retracted its little legs and settled down on the track.
'Well, I'm going,' said Rincewind. 'I mean it,' he added.
He turned the horse's head back towards the new horizon, and glanced Eventually Twoflower said, 'We ought to go back, you know.''Look, we'll reach the Smarl tomorrow,' said Rincewind. 'Nothing will happen to them out here, I don't see why —'He was talking to himself. Twoflower had wheeled his horse and was trotting back, demonstrating all the horsemanship of a sack of potatoes.Rincewind looked down. The Luggage regarded him owlishly.'What are you looking at?' said the wizard. 'He can go back if he wants, why should I bother?'The Luggage said nothing.'Look, he's not my responsibility,' said Rincewind. let's be absolutely clear about that.'The Luggage said nothing, but louder this
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
George Inness Coast Scene
George Inness Coast ScenePierre Auguste Renoir Au bord de la merGustave Caillebotte Paris Street rainy weatherGustave Caillebotte Oarsmen
'Easily done. I copied them out of the University files before I came up here.'
The astrologer looked at the notes, and his forehead wrinkled. He crossed the room and pulled out a wide drawer full of charts. He read the notes again. He picked up a complicated pair of compasses and made some passes The astrologer said 'Gosh' under his breath. Trymon spun around.
'Well?'
'Fascinating chart,' said the astrologer, breathlessly. His forehead wrinkled. 'Bit strange, really,' he said.
'How strange?'
'He was born under The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars which, as you knowacross the charts. He picked up a small brass astrolobe and cranked it carefully. He whistled between his teeth. He picked up a piece of chalk and scribbled some numbers on a blackboard.Trymon, meanwhile, had been staring out at the new star. He thought: the legend in the Pyramid of Tsort says that whoever says the Eight Spells together when the Disc is in danger will obtain all that he truly desires. And it will be so soon!And he thought: I remember Rincewind, wasn't he the cruffy boy who always came bottom of the class when we were training? Not a magical bone in his body. Let me get him in front of me, and we'll see if we can't get all eight—
'Easily done. I copied them out of the University files before I came up here.'
The astrologer looked at the notes, and his forehead wrinkled. He crossed the room and pulled out a wide drawer full of charts. He read the notes again. He picked up a complicated pair of compasses and made some passes The astrologer said 'Gosh' under his breath. Trymon spun around.
'Well?'
'Fascinating chart,' said the astrologer, breathlessly. His forehead wrinkled. 'Bit strange, really,' he said.
'How strange?'
'He was born under The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars which, as you knowacross the charts. He picked up a small brass astrolobe and cranked it carefully. He whistled between his teeth. He picked up a piece of chalk and scribbled some numbers on a blackboard.Trymon, meanwhile, had been staring out at the new star. He thought: the legend in the Pyramid of Tsort says that whoever says the Eight Spells together when the Disc is in danger will obtain all that he truly desires. And it will be so soon!And he thought: I remember Rincewind, wasn't he the cruffy boy who always came bottom of the class when we were training? Not a magical bone in his body. Let me get him in front of me, and we'll see if we can't get all eight—
Monday, March 2, 2009
Franz Marc Horse in a Landscape
Franz Marc Horse in a LandscapeFranz Marc Drei KatzenFranz Marc Dog Lying in the SnowFranz Marc Die kleinen gelben Pferde
was also very angry indeed.
The hut was smashed to fragments as the monster charged through it, although Terton survived by clinging to the ," muttered Rincewind, from his perch halfway up the wall. "You said it looks out over the Edge. Just step out, eh, and plunge through space and maybe freeze solid or hit some other world at incredible speeds or plunge wildly into the burning heart of a sun?"
"Worth a try," said Twoflower. "Want a seaweed biscuit?"
"No!"Circumfence; some weeks later he was picked up by a returning salvage fleet, subsequently escaped from Krull on a hijacked lens (having developed hydrophobia to an astonishing degree) and after a number of adventures eventually found his way to the Great Nef, an area of the Disc so dry that it actually has negative rainfall, which he nevertheless considered uncomfortably damp. "Have you tried the door?""Yes," said Twoflower. "And it isn't any less locked than it was last time you asked. There's the window, though.""A great way of escape
was also very angry indeed.
The hut was smashed to fragments as the monster charged through it, although Terton survived by clinging to the ," muttered Rincewind, from his perch halfway up the wall. "You said it looks out over the Edge. Just step out, eh, and plunge through space and maybe freeze solid or hit some other world at incredible speeds or plunge wildly into the burning heart of a sun?"
"Worth a try," said Twoflower. "Want a seaweed biscuit?"
"No!"Circumfence; some weeks later he was picked up by a returning salvage fleet, subsequently escaped from Krull on a hijacked lens (having developed hydrophobia to an astonishing degree) and after a number of adventures eventually found his way to the Great Nef, an area of the Disc so dry that it actually has negative rainfall, which he nevertheless considered uncomfortably damp. "Have you tried the door?""Yes," said Twoflower. "And it isn't any less locked than it was last time you asked. There's the window, though.""A great way of escape
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Leroy Neiman Roulette II
Leroy Neiman Roulette IILeroy Neiman Marlin FishingLeroy Neiman Mardi Gras ParadeLeroy Neiman Lights of Broadway
It's rather difficult to explain-"
Hrun peered up at the sky. Liartes, by far the most cautious of the two brothers, was circling high above them.
"Well, "Just listen, will you? Unless my brother is conscious his dragon can't exist, it's got no pathway through to this-"
"Run!" shouted Hrun. He threw her away from him and flung himself flat on the ground as Liartes' dragon thundered by, leaving another smoking scar across the turf.
While the creature sought height for another you've got about ten seconds to try," he said "The dragons-""Yah?""They're imaginary.""Like all these imaginary burns on my arm, you mean?""Yes. No!" she shook her head violently. "I'll have to tell you later!""Fine, if you can find a really good medium," snapped Hrun. He glared up at Liartes, who was beginning to descend in wide sweeps.
It's rather difficult to explain-"
Hrun peered up at the sky. Liartes, by far the most cautious of the two brothers, was circling high above them.
"Well, "Just listen, will you? Unless my brother is conscious his dragon can't exist, it's got no pathway through to this-"
"Run!" shouted Hrun. He threw her away from him and flung himself flat on the ground as Liartes' dragon thundered by, leaving another smoking scar across the turf.
While the creature sought height for another you've got about ten seconds to try," he said "The dragons-""Yah?""They're imaginary.""Like all these imaginary burns on my arm, you mean?""Yes. No!" she shook her head violently. "I'll have to tell you later!""Fine, if you can find a really good medium," snapped Hrun. He glared up at Liartes, who was beginning to descend in wide sweeps.
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