Johannes Vermeer The Guitar PlayerClaude Monet Regatta At ArgenteuilClaude Monet Woman with a Parasol
exposed in the middle of a carpet about the size of a field.
BUT WHY? said Death. IT CANT BE TO ATTEND YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S FUNERAL, he added. I WOULD KNOW.desk, making a sound not unlike a mouse tap-dancing, and gave Mort another few seconds of stare. He noticed that the boy seemed rather less elbows than he remembered, stood a little more upright and, bluntly, could use a word like 'expectancy'. It was all that library.
ALL RIGHT, he said grudgingly. BUT IT SEEMS TO ME YOU HAVE EVERYTHING YOU NEED RIGHT HERE. THE DUTY IS NOT ONEROUS, IS IT?'I just want to, you know, get out and meet people,' said Mort, trying to outstare that unflinching blue gaze.BUT YOU MEET PEOPLE EVERY DAY, of more than a few minutes. Sir,' he added.Death drummed his fingers on the
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
Monday, 9 March 2009
Andy Warhol Shadows I
Andy Warhol Shadows IAndy Warhol OxidationAndy Warhol Neuschwanstein
great delicacy the staff turned slowly in the air until it hung in front of Granny a few inches above the ice. Frost glittered on its carvings, but it seemed to Cutangle - through the red haze of migraine that hovered in front of his eyes - to be watching him. Resentfully.
Granny you no shame, lying around sulking when you could be of some use at last?"
She leaned forward, her hooked nose a few inches from the staff. Cutangle was almost certain that the staff tried to lean backwards out of her way.adjusted her hat and straightened up purposefully. "Right," she said. Cutangle swayed. The tone of voice cut through him like a diamond saw. He could dimly remember being scolded by his mother when he was small; well, this was that voice, only refined and concentrated and edged with little bits of carborundum, a tone of command that would have a corpse standing to attention and could probably have marched it halfway across its cemetery before it remembered it was dead. Granny stood in front of the hovering staff, almost melting its icy covering by the sheer anger in her gaze. "This is your idea of proper behaviour, is it? Lying around on the sea while people die? Oh, very well done!" She stomped around in a semi-circle. To Cutangle's bewilderment, the staff turned to follow her. "So you were thrown away," snapped Granny. "So what? She's hardly more than a child, and children throw us all away sooner or later. Is this loyal service? Have
great delicacy the staff turned slowly in the air until it hung in front of Granny a few inches above the ice. Frost glittered on its carvings, but it seemed to Cutangle - through the red haze of migraine that hovered in front of his eyes - to be watching him. Resentfully.
Granny you no shame, lying around sulking when you could be of some use at last?"
She leaned forward, her hooked nose a few inches from the staff. Cutangle was almost certain that the staff tried to lean backwards out of her way.adjusted her hat and straightened up purposefully. "Right," she said. Cutangle swayed. The tone of voice cut through him like a diamond saw. He could dimly remember being scolded by his mother when he was small; well, this was that voice, only refined and concentrated and edged with little bits of carborundum, a tone of command that would have a corpse standing to attention and could probably have marched it halfway across its cemetery before it remembered it was dead. Granny stood in front of the hovering staff, almost melting its icy covering by the sheer anger in her gaze. "This is your idea of proper behaviour, is it? Lying around on the sea while people die? Oh, very well done!" She stomped around in a semi-circle. To Cutangle's bewilderment, the staff turned to follow her. "So you were thrown away," snapped Granny. "So what? She's hardly more than a child, and children throw us all away sooner or later. Is this loyal service? Have
Marc Chagall The Three Candles
Marc Chagall The Three CandlesMarc Chagall Paris Through the WindowMarc Chagall Adam and Eve
met Hilta at the corner of the street. She was carrying her broomstick, the better to conduct an aerial search (with great stealth, however; the men of Ohulan were right behind Stay Long Ointment but drew the line at flying women). She was distraught.
"Not so much as a hint of her," said Granny.
"Have you been down to the river? She might have fallen in!"
"Then she'd have just fallen out again. Anyway, she can swim. I think she's hiding, drat her."
"What are we going to do?"
Granny gave her a withering look. "Hilta Goatfounder, I'm ashamed of you, acting like a cowin. Do I look worried?" "What for?"
"The screams or the bangs or the fireballs or whatever," Granny said vaguely. Hilta peered at her. "You do. A bit. Your lips have gone all thin." "I'm just angry, that's all." "Gypsies always come here for the fair, they might have taken her." Granny was prepared to believe anything about city folk but here she was on firmer ground. "Then they're a lot dafter than I'd give them credit for," she snapped. "Look, she's got the staff." "What good would that do?" said Hilta, who was close to tears. "I don't think you've understood anything I've told you," said Granny severely. "All we need to do is go back to your place and wait."
"That's heartless!"
met Hilta at the corner of the street. She was carrying her broomstick, the better to conduct an aerial search (with great stealth, however; the men of Ohulan were right behind Stay Long Ointment but drew the line at flying women). She was distraught.
"Not so much as a hint of her," said Granny.
"Have you been down to the river? She might have fallen in!"
"Then she'd have just fallen out again. Anyway, she can swim. I think she's hiding, drat her."
"What are we going to do?"
Granny gave her a withering look. "Hilta Goatfounder, I'm ashamed of you, acting like a cowin. Do I look worried?" "What for?"
"The screams or the bangs or the fireballs or whatever," Granny said vaguely. Hilta peered at her. "You do. A bit. Your lips have gone all thin." "I'm just angry, that's all." "Gypsies always come here for the fair, they might have taken her." Granny was prepared to believe anything about city folk but here she was on firmer ground. "Then they're a lot dafter than I'd give them credit for," she snapped. "Look, she's got the staff." "What good would that do?" said Hilta, who was close to tears. "I don't think you've understood anything I've told you," said Granny severely. "All we need to do is go back to your place and wait."
"That's heartless!"
Thursday, 5 March 2009
Andy Warhol Neuschwanstein
Andy Warhol NeuschwansteinAndy Warhol Knives black and whiteAndy Warhol Guns
had much sleep lately, at the fact that he wasn't thinking quite straight. But most of all he was angry with Trymon, standing there full of the magic Rincewind had always wanted but had never achieved, and doing nothing fighter, and it often worked.
It was working now, because Trymon had spent rather too much time reading ancient manuscripts and not getting enough healthy exercise and vitamins. He managed to get several blows in, which Rincewind was far too high on rage to notice, but he only used his hands while Rincewind employed knees, feet and teeth as well.
He was, in fact, winning.
This came as a shock.worthwhile with it.He sprang, striking Trymon in the stomach with his head and flinging his arms around him in desperation. Twoflower was knocked aside as they slid along the stones.Trymon snarled, and got out the first syllable of a spell before Rincewind's wildly flailing elbow caught him in the neck. A blast of randomised magic singed Rincewind's hair.Rincewind fought as he always fought, without skill or fairness or tactics but with a great deal of whirlwind effort. The strategy was to prevent an opponent getting enough time to realise that in fact Rincewind wasn't a very good or strong
had much sleep lately, at the fact that he wasn't thinking quite straight. But most of all he was angry with Trymon, standing there full of the magic Rincewind had always wanted but had never achieved, and doing nothing fighter, and it often worked.
It was working now, because Trymon had spent rather too much time reading ancient manuscripts and not getting enough healthy exercise and vitamins. He managed to get several blows in, which Rincewind was far too high on rage to notice, but he only used his hands while Rincewind employed knees, feet and teeth as well.
He was, in fact, winning.
This came as a shock.worthwhile with it.He sprang, striking Trymon in the stomach with his head and flinging his arms around him in desperation. Twoflower was knocked aside as they slid along the stones.Trymon snarled, and got out the first syllable of a spell before Rincewind's wildly flailing elbow caught him in the neck. A blast of randomised magic singed Rincewind's hair.Rincewind fought as he always fought, without skill or fairness or tactics but with a great deal of whirlwind effort. The strategy was to prevent an opponent getting enough time to realise that in fact Rincewind wasn't a very good or strong
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
Jack Vettriano The Red Room
Jack Vettriano The Red RoomJack Vettriano The LetterJack Vettriano The Billy BoysJack Vettriano Private Dancer
they looked down, they would have seen Rincewind talking urgently to a bunch of rocks.
Trolls are onereal problems if they ever awake, but the plain fact is that without the Disc's powerful and pervasive magical field trolls would have died out a long time ago.
Psychiatry hadn't been invented on the Disc. No-one had ever shoved an inkblot under Rincewind's nose to see if he had any loose toys in the attic. So the only way he'd have been able to describe the rocks turning back into rolls was by gabbling vaguely about how pictures suddenly form when you look at the fire, or clouds.
One minute there'd be a perfectly ordinary rock, and suddenly a few cracks that had been there of the oldest lifeforms in the multiverse, dating from an early attempt to get the whole life thing on the road without all that squashy protoplasm. Individual trolls live for a long time, hibernating during the summertime and sleeping during the day, since heat affects them and makes them slow. They have a fascinating geology. One could talk about tribology, one could mention the semiconductor effects of impure silicon, one could talk about the giant trolls of prehistory who make up most of the Disc's major mountain ranges and will cause some
they looked down, they would have seen Rincewind talking urgently to a bunch of rocks.
Trolls are onereal problems if they ever awake, but the plain fact is that without the Disc's powerful and pervasive magical field trolls would have died out a long time ago.
Psychiatry hadn't been invented on the Disc. No-one had ever shoved an inkblot under Rincewind's nose to see if he had any loose toys in the attic. So the only way he'd have been able to describe the rocks turning back into rolls was by gabbling vaguely about how pictures suddenly form when you look at the fire, or clouds.
One minute there'd be a perfectly ordinary rock, and suddenly a few cracks that had been there of the oldest lifeforms in the multiverse, dating from an early attempt to get the whole life thing on the road without all that squashy protoplasm. Individual trolls live for a long time, hibernating during the summertime and sleeping during the day, since heat affects them and makes them slow. They have a fascinating geology. One could talk about tribology, one could mention the semiconductor effects of impure silicon, one could talk about the giant trolls of prehistory who make up most of the Disc's major mountain ranges and will cause some
Monday, 2 March 2009
Vincent van Gogh Ladies of Arles
Vincent van Gogh Ladies of ArlesSalvador Dali The Ecumenical CouncilSalvador Dali The Cellist Ricardo PichotSalvador Dali My Wife,Nude
Once you had made the necessary mental adjustments, the gingerbread cottage was quite a pleasant place. Residual magic kept it standing and it was shunned by such local wild animals who hadn't already died of terminal tooth decay. A bright fire of liquorice logs burned rather messily in the fireplace; Rincewind had tried gathering wood outside, but had given up. It's hard to burn wood that talks to you.
He he got from it. He only had to close his eyes to picture, in dribbling detail, the food stalls of a hundred different cultures in the market places. You could eat squishi or shark's fin soup so fresh that swimmers wouldn't go near it, and —
'Do you think I could buy this place?' said Twoflower. Rincewind hesitatedbelched.'This isn't very healthy,' he said. 'I mean, why sweets? Why not crispbread and cheese? Or salami, now – I could just do with a nice salami sofa.''Search me,' said Swires. 'Old Granny Whitlow just did sweets. You should have seen her meringues —''I have,' said Rincewind, 'I looked at the mattresses . . .''Gingerbread is more traditional,' said Twoflower.'What, for mattresses?''Don't be silly,' said Twoflower reasonably. Whoever heard of a gingerbread mattress?'Rincewind grunted. He was thinking of food – more accurately, of food in Ankh-Morpork. Funny how the old place seemed more attractive the further
Once you had made the necessary mental adjustments, the gingerbread cottage was quite a pleasant place. Residual magic kept it standing and it was shunned by such local wild animals who hadn't already died of terminal tooth decay. A bright fire of liquorice logs burned rather messily in the fireplace; Rincewind had tried gathering wood outside, but had given up. It's hard to burn wood that talks to you.
He he got from it. He only had to close his eyes to picture, in dribbling detail, the food stalls of a hundred different cultures in the market places. You could eat squishi or shark's fin soup so fresh that swimmers wouldn't go near it, and —
'Do you think I could buy this place?' said Twoflower. Rincewind hesitatedbelched.'This isn't very healthy,' he said. 'I mean, why sweets? Why not crispbread and cheese? Or salami, now – I could just do with a nice salami sofa.''Search me,' said Swires. 'Old Granny Whitlow just did sweets. You should have seen her meringues —''I have,' said Rincewind, 'I looked at the mattresses . . .''Gingerbread is more traditional,' said Twoflower.'What, for mattresses?''Don't be silly,' said Twoflower reasonably. Whoever heard of a gingerbread mattress?'Rincewind grunted. He was thinking of food – more accurately, of food in Ankh-Morpork. Funny how the old place seemed more attractive the further
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida UNA INVESTIGACIoN
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida UNA INVESTIGACIoNWilliam Etty Hero and LeanderBenjamin Williams Leader The Wengen Alps Morning In SwitzerlandBenjamin Williams Leader Derwentwater
circumference makes the edge of things."
"So does yet mobile, by a complicated arrangement of pulleys and little wooden wheels. They ran along the rope as the unseen rower propelled the craft along the very lip of the Rimfall. That explained one mystery - but what supported the rope?
Rincewind peered along its length and saw a stout wooden post sticking up out of the water a few yards ahead. As he watched the boat neared it and then passed it, the little wheels clacking neatly around it in a groove obviously cut for the purpose. Rincewind also noticed that smaller ropes hung down from the main rope at the Circumfence," said the troll."He means this," said Twoflower, pointing down Rincewind's eyes followed the finger, dreading what they might see...Hubwards of the boat was a rope suspended a few feet above the surface of the white water. The boat was attached to it, moored
circumference makes the edge of things."
"So does yet mobile, by a complicated arrangement of pulleys and little wooden wheels. They ran along the rope as the unseen rower propelled the craft along the very lip of the Rimfall. That explained one mystery - but what supported the rope?
Rincewind peered along its length and saw a stout wooden post sticking up out of the water a few yards ahead. As he watched the boat neared it and then passed it, the little wheels clacking neatly around it in a groove obviously cut for the purpose. Rincewind also noticed that smaller ropes hung down from the main rope at the Circumfence," said the troll."He means this," said Twoflower, pointing down Rincewind's eyes followed the finger, dreading what they might see...Hubwards of the boat was a rope suspended a few feet above the surface of the white water. The boat was attached to it, moored
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