Edward Hopper Railroad CrossingEdward Hopper Portrait of OrleansEdward Hopper Pont du Carrousel in the FogEdward Hopper Painter and ModelEdward Hopper Office in a Small City
Victor looked at Ginger, who was staring at the thinning clouds of smoke over the pile of rubble that had been the Odium.
‘That’s wrong,’ she was muttering. ‘It doesn’t happen like that. It never happens like that. Just when you think it’s too late, they come galloping out of the smoke.’ She turned dull eyes upon him. ‘Don’t they?’ she able to bring others!’
‘You’re wizards,’ said Ginger. ‘Why don’t you stop it?’
Victor shook his head. ‘The Things like our magic,’ he said. ‘If you use it anywhere around them, it only makes them stronger. But I don’t see what I can do . . . ‘
His voice trailed off. The crowd was watching him expectantly.pleaded.‘That’s in the clicks,’ said Victor. ‘This is reality.,‘What’s the difference?’The Chair grabbed Victor’s shoulder and spun him around.‘It’s heading for the Library!’ he repeated. ‘You’ve got to stop it! If it gets there the magic’ll make it invincible! We’ll never beat it! It’ll be
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Monday, 30 March 2009
Rene Magritte Donna
Rene Magritte DonnaArthur Hughes The Long EngagementArthur Hughes The King's OrchardGeorge Inness OctoberAlbert Bierstadt Valley of the Yosemite
And Howondaland Smith, Balgrog Hunter, practic’ly eats the dark for his tea,’ said Gaspode.
‘Yes, but I’m not those people!’ wailed Victor.
‘Try tellin’‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘If the torch goes out, we could get horribly lost.’
‘No, we can’t,’ said Gaspode. ‘Sense of smell, see?’ that to all those people who handed over their pennies to watch you bein’ ‘em,’ said Gaspode. He scratched at an insomniac flea. ‘Cor, it’d be a laugh to have a handleman here now, wouldn’t it?’ he said, cheerfully. ‘Wot a comedy feature it’d make. Mr Hero Not Goin’ Into the Dark, we could call it. It’d be better’n Turkey Legs. It’d be funnier’n A Night At The Arena. I reckon people’d queue fo‑‘‘All right, all right,’ said Victor. ‘I’ll go a little way in, perhaps.’ He looked around desperately at the dried‑up trees around the hollow. ‘And I’ll make a torch,’ he added. He’d expected spiders and dampness and possibly snakes, if nothing worse . . .Instead, there was just a dry, roughly square passageway, leading slightly downwards. The air had a slightly salty smell, suggesting that somewhere the tunnel was connected to the sea.Victor took a few paces along it, and stopped.
And Howondaland Smith, Balgrog Hunter, practic’ly eats the dark for his tea,’ said Gaspode.
‘Yes, but I’m not those people!’ wailed Victor.
‘Try tellin’‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘If the torch goes out, we could get horribly lost.’
‘No, we can’t,’ said Gaspode. ‘Sense of smell, see?’ that to all those people who handed over their pennies to watch you bein’ ‘em,’ said Gaspode. He scratched at an insomniac flea. ‘Cor, it’d be a laugh to have a handleman here now, wouldn’t it?’ he said, cheerfully. ‘Wot a comedy feature it’d make. Mr Hero Not Goin’ Into the Dark, we could call it. It’d be better’n Turkey Legs. It’d be funnier’n A Night At The Arena. I reckon people’d queue fo‑‘‘All right, all right,’ said Victor. ‘I’ll go a little way in, perhaps.’ He looked around desperately at the dried‑up trees around the hollow. ‘And I’ll make a torch,’ he added. He’d expected spiders and dampness and possibly snakes, if nothing worse . . .Instead, there was just a dry, roughly square passageway, leading slightly downwards. The air had a slightly salty smell, suggesting that somewhere the tunnel was connected to the sea.Victor took a few paces along it, and stopped.
Friday, 27 March 2009
Tamara de Lempicka The Green Turban
Tamara de Lempicka The Green TurbanTamara de Lempicka SummerTamara de Lempicka Saint MoritzTamara de Lempicka PrintempsTamara de Lempicka Portrait of Ira
It was years and years ago. There was this ole bloke in Ankh who snuffed it, and he belonged to one of them religions where they bury you after you’re dead, an’, they did, and he had this ole dog-’
‘–called Gaspode–?’
‘Yeah, and this ole dog had been his only companion and after they buried the man he lay down on his grave and howled ‘Not really. I b’lieve any bloody dog will stay still an’ howl when you’ve just lowered the gravestone on his tail,’ said Gaspode.
There was a ferocious barking.
‘Don’t worry about it. He’s probably found a threatening rock or something,’ said Gaspode.
He’d found Ginger.
and howled for a couple of weeks. Growled at everybody who came near. An’ then died.’ Victor paused in the act of throwing the stick again. ‘That’s very sad,’ he said. He threw. Laddie tore along underneath it, and disappeared into a stand of scrubby trees on the hillside. ‘Yeah. Everyone says it demonstrates a dog’s innocent and undyin’ love for ‘is master,’ said Gaspode, spitting the words out as if they were ashes. ‘You don’t believe that, then?’
It was years and years ago. There was this ole bloke in Ankh who snuffed it, and he belonged to one of them religions where they bury you after you’re dead, an’, they did, and he had this ole dog-’
‘–called Gaspode–?’
‘Yeah, and this ole dog had been his only companion and after they buried the man he lay down on his grave and howled ‘Not really. I b’lieve any bloody dog will stay still an’ howl when you’ve just lowered the gravestone on his tail,’ said Gaspode.
There was a ferocious barking.
‘Don’t worry about it. He’s probably found a threatening rock or something,’ said Gaspode.
He’d found Ginger.
and howled for a couple of weeks. Growled at everybody who came near. An’ then died.’ Victor paused in the act of throwing the stick again. ‘That’s very sad,’ he said. He threw. Laddie tore along underneath it, and disappeared into a stand of scrubby trees on the hillside. ‘Yeah. Everyone says it demonstrates a dog’s innocent and undyin’ love for ‘is master,’ said Gaspode, spitting the words out as if they were ashes. ‘You don’t believe that, then?’
Thursday, 26 March 2009
Dante Gabriel Rossetti A Sea Spell
Dante Gabriel Rossetti A Sea SpellJohannes Vermeer Lady Seated at a VirginalJames Jacques Joseph Tissot Too EarlyJames Jacques Joseph Tissot Hide and SeekMartin Johnson Heade Orchids and Hummingbird
staff being magically interfered with.’
The Archchancellor tapped the pot with his knuckles. ‘What, old "Numbers" Riktor? Same fella?’
‘Apparently, Archchancellor.’
‘Total madman. Thought you could measure everythin’. Not just lengths and weights and that kind of stuff, but ‘We never throw things out. Besides, it is probably quite valuable.’
‘Hmm,’ said Ridcully. ‘Valuable?’
‘Possibly an important historical artifact, Master.’
‘Shove it in my study, then. I said the place needs bright’nin’ up. It’ll be one of them conversation pieces, right? Got to go now. Got to see a man about trainin’ a gryphon. Good day, ladies-everythin’. "If it exists," he said, "you ought to be able to measure it."‘ Ridcully’s eyes misted with memory. ‘Made all kinds of weird widgets. Reckoned you could measure truth and beauty and dreams and stuff. So this is one of old Riktor’s toys, is it? Wonder what it measured?’ ‘Ay think’, said Mrs Whitlow, ‘that it should be put haway somewhere out of ‘arm’s way, if it’s hall the hsame to you.’ ‘Yes, yes, yes, of course,’ said the Bursar hurriedly. Staff were hard to keep at Unseen University. ‘Get rid of it,’ said the Archchancellor. The Bursar was horrified. ‘Oh, no, sir,’ he said.
staff being magically interfered with.’
The Archchancellor tapped the pot with his knuckles. ‘What, old "Numbers" Riktor? Same fella?’
‘Apparently, Archchancellor.’
‘Total madman. Thought you could measure everythin’. Not just lengths and weights and that kind of stuff, but ‘We never throw things out. Besides, it is probably quite valuable.’
‘Hmm,’ said Ridcully. ‘Valuable?’
‘Possibly an important historical artifact, Master.’
‘Shove it in my study, then. I said the place needs bright’nin’ up. It’ll be one of them conversation pieces, right? Got to go now. Got to see a man about trainin’ a gryphon. Good day, ladies-everythin’. "If it exists," he said, "you ought to be able to measure it."‘ Ridcully’s eyes misted with memory. ‘Made all kinds of weird widgets. Reckoned you could measure truth and beauty and dreams and stuff. So this is one of old Riktor’s toys, is it? Wonder what it measured?’ ‘Ay think’, said Mrs Whitlow, ‘that it should be put haway somewhere out of ‘arm’s way, if it’s hall the hsame to you.’ ‘Yes, yes, yes, of course,’ said the Bursar hurriedly. Staff were hard to keep at Unseen University. ‘Get rid of it,’ said the Archchancellor. The Bursar was horrified. ‘Oh, no, sir,’ he said.
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
Rene Magritte The Voice of the Winds
Rene Magritte The Voice of the WindsRene Magritte The Sea of FlamesRene Magritte The Ignorant FairyRene Magritte The Human ConditionRene Magritte The Great War
normal conspiratorial hiss.
‘All the rage in the other cities, I hear,’ he added. ‘Some sort of moving pictures. They’ve been trying to get it right before coming to Ankh-Morpork.’
They watched Silverfish and a couple of associates fumble technically with the box on the tripod. White light suddenly we hadn’t guessed he was really doing "Lord Henry Skipps and His Men beating the Trolls at the Battle of Pseudopolis". I can’t see what’s so special about shadows on a screen.’
‘From what I hear it’s not like that,’ said Dibbler. ‘I sold one of theappeared at a circular orifice on the front of it, and illuminated the screen. There was a halfhearted cheer from the crowd. ‘Oh,’ said Victor. ‘I see. Is that all? It’s just plain old shadow play. That’s all it is. My uncle used to do it to amuse me. You know? You kind of move your hands in front of the light and the shadows make a kind of silhouettey picture.’ ‘Oh, yeah,’ said Dibbler uncertainly. ‘Like "Big Elephant", or "Bald Eagle". My grandad used to do that sort of stuff.’ ‘Mainly my uncle did "Deformed Rabbit",’ said Victor. ‘He wasn’t very good at it, you see. It used to get pretty embarrassing. We’d all sit round desperately guessing things like "Surprised Hedgehog" or "Rabid Stoat" and he’d go off to bed in a sulk because
normal conspiratorial hiss.
‘All the rage in the other cities, I hear,’ he added. ‘Some sort of moving pictures. They’ve been trying to get it right before coming to Ankh-Morpork.’
They watched Silverfish and a couple of associates fumble technically with the box on the tripod. White light suddenly we hadn’t guessed he was really doing "Lord Henry Skipps and His Men beating the Trolls at the Battle of Pseudopolis". I can’t see what’s so special about shadows on a screen.’
‘From what I hear it’s not like that,’ said Dibbler. ‘I sold one of theappeared at a circular orifice on the front of it, and illuminated the screen. There was a halfhearted cheer from the crowd. ‘Oh,’ said Victor. ‘I see. Is that all? It’s just plain old shadow play. That’s all it is. My uncle used to do it to amuse me. You know? You kind of move your hands in front of the light and the shadows make a kind of silhouettey picture.’ ‘Oh, yeah,’ said Dibbler uncertainly. ‘Like "Big Elephant", or "Bald Eagle". My grandad used to do that sort of stuff.’ ‘Mainly my uncle did "Deformed Rabbit",’ said Victor. ‘He wasn’t very good at it, you see. It used to get pretty embarrassing. We’d all sit round desperately guessing things like "Surprised Hedgehog" or "Rabid Stoat" and he’d go off to bed in a sulk because
Monday, 23 March 2009
Caravaggio Amor Vincit Omnia
Caravaggio Amor Vincit OmniaPierre-Auguste Cot Le PrintempsGeorge Frederick Watts CharityFrancisco de Goya Nude MajaFrancisco de Goya Clothed Maja
'There's nothing between us,' explained the philosopher.
'Oh, dear. That means we shall be forced to make war.'
'Why?'
Ibid opened his mouth, stopped, and turned to Xeno.
'Why does it mean we'll be forced to make war?' he said.
'Historical imperative,' said Xeno.
'Ah, yes. I knew it was something like that. I am afraid it is inevitable. It's a shame, but there you are.'
There was another clatter as another party of horsemen rounded the corner, heading downhill this time. They wore the high plumed helmets of Ephebian soldiery, and were shouting enthusiastically.
Ibid settled himself more comfortably on the bench and folded his bands. 'That'll be the Tyrant's men,' he said, as the troop galloped through the city gates and out on to the desert. 'He's sending them to check, you may depend upon it.' Teppic knew about the enmity between Ephebe and Tsort, of course. The Old Kingdom had profited mightily by it, by seeing that the merchants of both sides had somewhere discreet in which to trade with one another. He drummed his fingers on the table. 'You haven't fought each other for thousands of years,' he said. 'You were tiny countries in those days. It was just a scrap. Now you're huge. People could get hurt. Doesn't that worry you?'
'It's a matter of pride,' said Ibid, but his voice was tinged with uncertainty. 'I don't think there's much choice.'
'It was that bloody wooden cow or whatever,' said Xeno. 'They've never forgiven us for it.'
'If we don't attack them, they'll attack us first,' said Ibid.
'There's nothing between us,' explained the philosopher.
'Oh, dear. That means we shall be forced to make war.'
'Why?'
Ibid opened his mouth, stopped, and turned to Xeno.
'Why does it mean we'll be forced to make war?' he said.
'Historical imperative,' said Xeno.
'Ah, yes. I knew it was something like that. I am afraid it is inevitable. It's a shame, but there you are.'
There was another clatter as another party of horsemen rounded the corner, heading downhill this time. They wore the high plumed helmets of Ephebian soldiery, and were shouting enthusiastically.
Ibid settled himself more comfortably on the bench and folded his bands. 'That'll be the Tyrant's men,' he said, as the troop galloped through the city gates and out on to the desert. 'He's sending them to check, you may depend upon it.' Teppic knew about the enmity between Ephebe and Tsort, of course. The Old Kingdom had profited mightily by it, by seeing that the merchants of both sides had somewhere discreet in which to trade with one another. He drummed his fingers on the table. 'You haven't fought each other for thousands of years,' he said. 'You were tiny countries in those days. It was just a scrap. Now you're huge. People could get hurt. Doesn't that worry you?'
'It's a matter of pride,' said Ibid, but his voice was tinged with uncertainty. 'I don't think there's much choice.'
'It was that bloody wooden cow or whatever,' said Xeno. 'They've never forgiven us for it.'
'If we don't attack them, they'll attack us first,' said Ibid.
Friday, 20 March 2009
Jack Vettriano Man Pursued
Jack Vettriano Man PursuedJack Vettriano Mad DogsJack Vettriano Mad Dogs detailJack Vettriano Lunchtime LoversJack Vettriano long time Gone
Chidder craned to see. 'Oh, just some new kid,' he said. 'Arthur someone. Still hanging on to his mummy, I see. He won't last long.'
'Oh, I don't the squirting of oil, and then a metallic whisper as the bolt of a trapdoor leading on to the roof moved gently aside.
Teppic waited for his breath to catch up with him, and in that moment heard the sound. It was down among the white noise at the edge of hearing, but there was no doubt about it. Someone was waiting just above the trapdoor, and they'd just put their hand on a piece of paper to stop it rattling in the breeze.
His own hand dropped from the bolt. He eased his way with exquisite care back across the greasy know,' said Teppic. 'We do, too, and we've lasted for thousands of years.' A disc of glass dropped into the silent building and tinkled on the floor. There was no other sound for several minutes. Then there was the faint clonk-clonk of an oil can. A shadow that had been lying naturally on the window sill, a morgue for blue-bottles, turned out to be an arm which was moving with vegetable slowness towards the window's catch. There was a scrape of metal, and then the whole window swung out in tribological silence. Teppic dropped over the sill and vanished into the shadow below it. For a minute or two the dusty space was filled with the intense absence of noise caused by someone moving with extreme care. Once again there was
Chidder craned to see. 'Oh, just some new kid,' he said. 'Arthur someone. Still hanging on to his mummy, I see. He won't last long.'
'Oh, I don't the squirting of oil, and then a metallic whisper as the bolt of a trapdoor leading on to the roof moved gently aside.
Teppic waited for his breath to catch up with him, and in that moment heard the sound. It was down among the white noise at the edge of hearing, but there was no doubt about it. Someone was waiting just above the trapdoor, and they'd just put their hand on a piece of paper to stop it rattling in the breeze.
His own hand dropped from the bolt. He eased his way with exquisite care back across the greasy know,' said Teppic. 'We do, too, and we've lasted for thousands of years.' A disc of glass dropped into the silent building and tinkled on the floor. There was no other sound for several minutes. Then there was the faint clonk-clonk of an oil can. A shadow that had been lying naturally on the window sill, a morgue for blue-bottles, turned out to be an arm which was moving with vegetable slowness towards the window's catch. There was a scrape of metal, and then the whole window swung out in tribological silence. Teppic dropped over the sill and vanished into the shadow below it. For a minute or two the dusty space was filled with the intense absence of noise caused by someone moving with extreme care. Once again there was
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Juan Gris Guitar and Music Pape
Juan Gris Guitar and Music PapeJuan Gris Fantomas Pipe and NewspaperGeorge Bellows The PicnicGeorge Bellows The CircusGeorge Bellows Summer Fantasy
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 child,' he said. 'Always moving. Always a new town. And no room for schooling. They say that's very important these days.' But his eyes didn't look away.
Mrs Vitoller said, 'Why does he need a home?'
'He hasn't got one,' said Grannyfished in the deepest recesses of her cloak. At last she produced a small leather bag, which she tipped out on to the table. There was a lot of silver, and even a few tiny gold coins.
'This should take care of—' she groped – 'nappies and suchlike. Clothes and things. Whatever.'
'A hundred times over, I should think,' said Vitoller weakly. 'Why didn't you mention this before?'
'If I'd had to buy you, you wouldn't busy, but—' Magrat hesitated, and blushed.
'Out with it, girl.'
'Just after that a man came
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 child,' he said. 'Always moving. Always a new town. And no room for schooling. They say that's very important these days.' But his eyes didn't look away.
Mrs Vitoller said, 'Why does he need a home?'
'He hasn't got one,' said Grannyfished in the deepest recesses of her cloak. At last she produced a small leather bag, which she tipped out on to the table. There was a lot of silver, and even a few tiny gold coins.
'This should take care of—' she groped – 'nappies and suchlike. Clothes and things. Whatever.'
'A hundred times over, I should think,' said Vitoller weakly. 'Why didn't you mention this before?'
'If I'd had to buy you, you wouldn't busy, but—' Magrat hesitated, and blushed.
'Out with it, girl.'
'Just after that a man came
Tuesday, 17 March 2009
Bill Brauer Gold Dress
Bill Brauer Gold DressUnknown Artist Audrey Hepburn pop artPiet Mondrian Tableau IPiet Mondrian Mill in SunlightPiet Mondrian Avond Evening Red Tree
'A fiery white charger would have been favourite,' said Nanny Ogg. 'You know. Caparisoned, and that.'
'Has he got a magic sword?' said Magrat, craning to see.
Granny Weatherwax sat back.
'You're a disgrace, the pair of you,' she said. 'I don't know – magic chargers, fiery swords. Ogling away like a couple of milkmaids.'
'A magic sword is important,' said Magrat. 'You've got to have one. We could make him one,' she added wistfully. 'Out of thunderbolt iron. I've got a spell for that. You take some thunderbolt iron,' she said uncertainly, sense, he's got to come five hundred miles across difficult country, anything could happen.
I daresay the armour and swords is in the carts.'and then you make a sword out of it.''I can't be having with that old stuff,' said Granny. 'You can wait days for the damn things to hit and then they nearly take your arm off.''And a strawberry birthmark,' said Nanny Ogg, ignoring the interruption.The other two looked at her expectantly.'A strawberry birthmark,' she repeated. 'It's one of those things you've got to have if you're a prince coming to claim your kingdom. That's so's everyone will know. O'course, I don't know how they know it's strawberry.''Can't abide strawberries,' said Granny vaguely, quizzing the crystal again.In its cracked green depths, smelling of bygone lobsters, a minute Tomjon kissed his parents, shook hands or hugged the rest of the company, and climbed aboard the leading latty.It must of worked, she told herself. Else he wouldn't be coming here, would he? All those others must be his trusty band of good companions. After all, common
'A fiery white charger would have been favourite,' said Nanny Ogg. 'You know. Caparisoned, and that.'
'Has he got a magic sword?' said Magrat, craning to see.
Granny Weatherwax sat back.
'You're a disgrace, the pair of you,' she said. 'I don't know – magic chargers, fiery swords. Ogling away like a couple of milkmaids.'
'A magic sword is important,' said Magrat. 'You've got to have one. We could make him one,' she added wistfully. 'Out of thunderbolt iron. I've got a spell for that. You take some thunderbolt iron,' she said uncertainly, sense, he's got to come five hundred miles across difficult country, anything could happen.
I daresay the armour and swords is in the carts.'and then you make a sword out of it.''I can't be having with that old stuff,' said Granny. 'You can wait days for the damn things to hit and then they nearly take your arm off.''And a strawberry birthmark,' said Nanny Ogg, ignoring the interruption.The other two looked at her expectantly.'A strawberry birthmark,' she repeated. 'It's one of those things you've got to have if you're a prince coming to claim your kingdom. That's so's everyone will know. O'course, I don't know how they know it's strawberry.''Can't abide strawberries,' said Granny vaguely, quizzing the crystal again.In its cracked green depths, smelling of bygone lobsters, a minute Tomjon kissed his parents, shook hands or hugged the rest of the company, and climbed aboard the leading latty.It must of worked, she told herself. Else he wouldn't be coming here, would he? All those others must be his trusty band of good companions. After all, common
Monday, 16 March 2009
Pink Floyd Back Catalogue
Pink Floyd Back CatalogueVincent van Gogh Wheat Field with Rising SunVincent van Gogh Wheat Field 1889Vincent van Gogh Road with Cypress and StarVincent van Gogh Olive Trees 1889
They drank in silence. Eventually Granny said, 'Well, Magrat. You know all about the coven business. We might as well do it right. What do we do next?'
Magrat hesitated. She wasn't up to suggesting dancing naked.
'There's a song,' she said. 'In praise of the full moon.'
'It ain't full,' Granny pointed out. 'It's wossname. Bulging.'
'Gibbous,' said Nanny obligingly.
'I think it's in praise of full moons in general,' Magrat hazarded. 'And then we have to raise our consciousness. It reallyThe corridor became slightly darker as the more intense darkness inside the room spilled out and mingled with the rather lighter darkness already there. ought to be full moon for that, I'm afraid. Moons are very important.'Granny gave her a long, calculating look.'That's modern witchcraft for you, is it?' she said.'It's part of it, Granny. There's a lot more.'Granny Weatherwax sighed. 'Each to her own, I suppose. I'm blowed if I'll let a ball of shiny rock tell me what to do.''Yes, bugger all that,' said Nanny. 'Let's curse somebody.' The Fool crept cautiously along the nighttime corridors. He wasn't taking any chances either. Magrat had given him a graphic account of Greebo's general disposition, and the Fool had borrowed a couple of gloves and a sort of metal wimple from the castle's store of hereditary chain mail.He reached the lumber room, lifted the latch cautiously, pushed the door and then flung himself against the wall.
They drank in silence. Eventually Granny said, 'Well, Magrat. You know all about the coven business. We might as well do it right. What do we do next?'
Magrat hesitated. She wasn't up to suggesting dancing naked.
'There's a song,' she said. 'In praise of the full moon.'
'It ain't full,' Granny pointed out. 'It's wossname. Bulging.'
'Gibbous,' said Nanny obligingly.
'I think it's in praise of full moons in general,' Magrat hazarded. 'And then we have to raise our consciousness. It reallyThe corridor became slightly darker as the more intense darkness inside the room spilled out and mingled with the rather lighter darkness already there. ought to be full moon for that, I'm afraid. Moons are very important.'Granny gave her a long, calculating look.'That's modern witchcraft for you, is it?' she said.'It's part of it, Granny. There's a lot more.'Granny Weatherwax sighed. 'Each to her own, I suppose. I'm blowed if I'll let a ball of shiny rock tell me what to do.''Yes, bugger all that,' said Nanny. 'Let's curse somebody.' The Fool crept cautiously along the nighttime corridors. He wasn't taking any chances either. Magrat had given him a graphic account of Greebo's general disposition, and the Fool had borrowed a couple of gloves and a sort of metal wimple from the castle's store of hereditary chain mail.He reached the lumber room, lifted the latch cautiously, pushed the door and then flung himself against the wall.
Sunday, 15 March 2009
Camille Pissarro Morning Sunlight on the Snow
Camille Pissarro Morning Sunlight on the SnowCamille Pissarro Boulevard MontmarteClaude Lorrain The Rest on the Flight into EgyptPeter Paul Rubens Virgin and ChildPeter Paul Rubens Rape of the Daughters of Leucippus
then there was that great hairy thing of his,' said Nanny Ogg.
There was a perceptible change in the atmosphere. It became warmer, darker, filled at the corners with the shadows of unspoken conspiracy.
'Ah,' said Granny Weatherwax distantly. 'His droit de seigneur.'
'Needed ago, good and bad. His father poisoned the king we had before.'
'That was old Thargum,' said Nanny Ogg. 'Had a big red beard, I recall. He was very gracious too, you know.'
'Only now no-one must say Felmet killed the king,' said Magrat.
'What?' said Granny. lot of exercise,' said Nanny Ogg, staring at the fire.'But next day he'd send his housekeeper round with a bag of silver and a hamper of stuff for the wedding,' said Granny. 'Many a couple got a proper start in life thanks to that.''Ah,' agreed Nanny. 'One or two individuals, too.''Every inch a king,' said Granny.'What are you talking about?' said Magrat suspiciously. 'Did he keep pets?'The two witches surfaced from whatever deeper current they had been swimming in. Granny Weatherwax shrugged.'I must say,' Magrat went on, in severe tones, 'if you think so much of the old king, you don't seem very worried about him being killed. I mean, it was a pretty suspicious accident.''That's kings for you,' said Granny. 'They come and
then there was that great hairy thing of his,' said Nanny Ogg.
There was a perceptible change in the atmosphere. It became warmer, darker, filled at the corners with the shadows of unspoken conspiracy.
'Ah,' said Granny Weatherwax distantly. 'His droit de seigneur.'
'Needed ago, good and bad. His father poisoned the king we had before.'
'That was old Thargum,' said Nanny Ogg. 'Had a big red beard, I recall. He was very gracious too, you know.'
'Only now no-one must say Felmet killed the king,' said Magrat.
'What?' said Granny. lot of exercise,' said Nanny Ogg, staring at the fire.'But next day he'd send his housekeeper round with a bag of silver and a hamper of stuff for the wedding,' said Granny. 'Many a couple got a proper start in life thanks to that.''Ah,' agreed Nanny. 'One or two individuals, too.''Every inch a king,' said Granny.'What are you talking about?' said Magrat suspiciously. 'Did he keep pets?'The two witches surfaced from whatever deeper current they had been swimming in. Granny Weatherwax shrugged.'I must say,' Magrat went on, in severe tones, 'if you think so much of the old king, you don't seem very worried about him being killed. I mean, it was a pretty suspicious accident.''That's kings for you,' said Granny. 'They come and
Friday, 13 March 2009
Thomas Moran Cliffs of Green River
Thomas Moran Cliffs of Green RiverThomas Moran Autumn LandscapeThomas Moran Chicago World's Fair
Something like a soft sigh went up from the assembled wizards. They stared sadly at the toad in Rincewind's hand. Most of them, in the days of their youth, had mastered the art of getting rascally drunk at the Drum. Of course, all ; he'd challenge old boniface and spit in his empty eye.
'By the Smoking Mirror of Grism, there's going to be a few changes around here!'
Those wizards who had studied history nodded uncomfortably. It would be back to the stone floors and getting up when it was still dark and no alcohol under any circumstances and memorising the true that was behind them now, but the Guild of Merchants' annual knife-and-fork supper would have been held in the Drum's upstairs room the following evening, and all the Eighth Level wizards had been sent complimentary tickets; there would have been roast swan and two kinds of trifle and lots of fraternal toasts to 'Our esteemed, nay, distinguished guests' until it was time for the college porters to turn up with the wheelbarrows.Albert strutted along the row, poking the occasional paunch with his staff. His mind danced and sang. Go back? Never! This was power, this was living
Something like a soft sigh went up from the assembled wizards. They stared sadly at the toad in Rincewind's hand. Most of them, in the days of their youth, had mastered the art of getting rascally drunk at the Drum. Of course, all ; he'd challenge old boniface and spit in his empty eye.
'By the Smoking Mirror of Grism, there's going to be a few changes around here!'
Those wizards who had studied history nodded uncomfortably. It would be back to the stone floors and getting up when it was still dark and no alcohol under any circumstances and memorising the true that was behind them now, but the Guild of Merchants' annual knife-and-fork supper would have been held in the Drum's upstairs room the following evening, and all the Eighth Level wizards had been sent complimentary tickets; there would have been roast swan and two kinds of trifle and lots of fraternal toasts to 'Our esteemed, nay, distinguished guests' until it was time for the college porters to turn up with the wheelbarrows.Albert strutted along the row, poking the occasional paunch with his staff. His mind danced and sang. Go back? Never! This was power, this was living
Thursday, 12 March 2009
Rembrandt Samson And Delilah
Rembrandt Samson And DelilahLord Frederick Leighton OdalisqueLord Frederick Leighton Nausicaa
SPLENDID. Now, YOU TWO CAN RUN ALONG. GET ALBERT TO DO YOU A PICNIC LUNCH OR SOMETHING. GET SOME FRESH AIR. I'VE NOTICED THE WAY YOU TWO ALWAYS AVOID EACH OTHER. He gave Mort a conspiratorial nudge – it was like being poked with a stick – and added, ALBERT'S TOLD ME WHAT THAT MEANS.
'Has he?' said Mort gloomily. He'd been wrong, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and it was a flamethrower.
Death .
'Was it? I can't think what came over me.' He felt in his pocket and produced the handkerchief. This belongs to you, I think.'
'Thank you.' She blew her nose noisily.gave him another of his supernova winks.Mort didn't return it. Instead he turned and plodded towards the door, at a general speed and gait that made Great A'Tuin look like a spring lamb.He was halfway along the corridor before he heard the soft rush of footsteps behind him and a hand caught his arm.'Mort?'He turned and gazed at Ysabell did you let him think it was you in the library?''Don't know.''It was . . . very . . . kind of you,' she said cautiously
Mort was already well down the corridor, his shoulders hunched like
SPLENDID. Now, YOU TWO CAN RUN ALONG. GET ALBERT TO DO YOU A PICNIC LUNCH OR SOMETHING. GET SOME FRESH AIR. I'VE NOTICED THE WAY YOU TWO ALWAYS AVOID EACH OTHER. He gave Mort a conspiratorial nudge – it was like being poked with a stick – and added, ALBERT'S TOLD ME WHAT THAT MEANS.
'Has he?' said Mort gloomily. He'd been wrong, there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and it was a flamethrower.
Death .
'Was it? I can't think what came over me.' He felt in his pocket and produced the handkerchief. This belongs to you, I think.'
'Thank you.' She blew her nose noisily.gave him another of his supernova winks.Mort didn't return it. Instead he turned and plodded towards the door, at a general speed and gait that made Great A'Tuin look like a spring lamb.He was halfway along the corridor before he heard the soft rush of footsteps behind him and a hand caught his arm.'Mort?'He turned and gazed at Ysabell did you let him think it was you in the library?''Don't know.''It was . . . very . . . kind of you,' she said cautiously
Mort was already well down the corridor, his shoulders hunched like
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
John William Waterhouse Echo and Narcissus
John William Waterhouse Echo and NarcissusLeonardo da Vinci Madonna with the YarnwinderRembrandt Rembrandt night watch
YOU HAVE GOOD FOOD AND A WARM BED AND RECREATION AND PEOPLE YOUR OWN AGE.
'Pardon, sir?' said Mort.
MY DAUGHTER, said Death. YOU HAVE MET HER, I BELIEVE.
'Oh. Yes, sir.'
SHE HAS A VERY WARM PERSONALITY WHEN YOU GET TO KNOW HER.
'I am sure she '
I IMAGINE SO, I'M SURE, said Death. Is THERE ANYTHING ELSE I MIGHT BE ABLE TO ASSIST YOU WITH BEFORE YOU LEAVE FOR THIS DEBAUCH?
'Well, sir, there is one thing, sir, I don't know how to get to the mortal world, sir,' said Mort desperately.
Death sighed loudly, and pulled open a desk drawer.has, sir.'NEVERTHELESS, YOU WISH – Death launched the words with a spin of distaste – AN AFTERNOON OFF? 'Yes, sir. If you please, sir.'VERY WELL. So BE IT. You MAY HAVE UNTIL SUNSET.Death opened his great ledger, picked up a pen, and began to write. Occasionally he'd reach out and flick the beads of an abacus.After a minute he looked up.YOU'RE STILL HERE, he said. AND IN YOUR OWN TIME, TOO, he added sourly.'Um,' said Mort, 'will people be able to see me, sir?
YOU HAVE GOOD FOOD AND A WARM BED AND RECREATION AND PEOPLE YOUR OWN AGE.
'Pardon, sir?' said Mort.
MY DAUGHTER, said Death. YOU HAVE MET HER, I BELIEVE.
'Oh. Yes, sir.'
SHE HAS A VERY WARM PERSONALITY WHEN YOU GET TO KNOW HER.
'I am sure she '
I IMAGINE SO, I'M SURE, said Death. Is THERE ANYTHING ELSE I MIGHT BE ABLE TO ASSIST YOU WITH BEFORE YOU LEAVE FOR THIS DEBAUCH?
'Well, sir, there is one thing, sir, I don't know how to get to the mortal world, sir,' said Mort desperately.
Death sighed loudly, and pulled open a desk drawer.has, sir.'NEVERTHELESS, YOU WISH – Death launched the words with a spin of distaste – AN AFTERNOON OFF? 'Yes, sir. If you please, sir.'VERY WELL. So BE IT. You MAY HAVE UNTIL SUNSET.Death opened his great ledger, picked up a pen, and began to write. Occasionally he'd reach out and flick the beads of an abacus.After a minute he looked up.YOU'RE STILL HERE, he said. AND IN YOUR OWN TIME, TOO, he added sourly.'Um,' said Mort, 'will people be able to see me, sir?
Monday, 9 March 2009
Andy Warhol Dollar Sign 1981
Andy Warhol Dollar Sign 1981Andy Warhol Diamond Dust ShoesAndy Warhol daisy 1982
Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "It's like holding a hot icicle," she said. "Come on, we haven't got time to stand around chatting."
"How are we going to get back?"
"Oh, show some backbone, man, for goodness sake. We'll fly,"
Granny waved her broomstick. The Archchancellor looked at it doubtfully.
"On that?"
"Of course. Don't wizards fly on their staffs?"
"It's rather undignified."
"If I can put "I thought they went faster," Cutangle continued, "and, to be frank, higher."
"What do you mean, higher?" asked Granny, trying to compensate for the wizard's weight on the pillion as they turned back upriver. Like pillion passengers since the dawn of time, he persisted in leaning the wrong way.up with that, so can you." "Yes, but is it safe?" Granny gave him a withering look. "Do you mean in the absolute sense?" she asked. "Or, say, compared with staying behind on a melting ice floe?" "This is the first time I have ever ridden on a broomstick," said Cutangle. "Really." "I thought you just had to get on them and they flew," said the wizard. "I didn't know you had to do all that running up and down and shouting at them." "It's a knack," said Granny.
"Well, more sort of above the trees," said Cutangle, ducking as a dripping branch swept his hat away.
Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "It's like holding a hot icicle," she said. "Come on, we haven't got time to stand around chatting."
"How are we going to get back?"
"Oh, show some backbone, man, for goodness sake. We'll fly,"
Granny waved her broomstick. The Archchancellor looked at it doubtfully.
"On that?"
"Of course. Don't wizards fly on their staffs?"
"It's rather undignified."
"If I can put "I thought they went faster," Cutangle continued, "and, to be frank, higher."
"What do you mean, higher?" asked Granny, trying to compensate for the wizard's weight on the pillion as they turned back upriver. Like pillion passengers since the dawn of time, he persisted in leaning the wrong way.up with that, so can you." "Yes, but is it safe?" Granny gave him a withering look. "Do you mean in the absolute sense?" she asked. "Or, say, compared with staying behind on a melting ice floe?" "This is the first time I have ever ridden on a broomstick," said Cutangle. "Really." "I thought you just had to get on them and they flew," said the wizard. "I didn't know you had to do all that running up and down and shouting at them." "It's a knack," said Granny.
"Well, more sort of above the trees," said Cutangle, ducking as a dripping branch swept his hat away.
Paul Klee Zitronen
Paul Klee ZitronenPaul Klee Villa RPaul Klee The Golden Fish
What?" he said.
"Milk," said the child, still focussing furiously. "You get it out of goats. You know?"
Skiller sold only beer, which his customers claimed he got out of cats. No self-respecting goat would have endured the smell in the Fiddler's Riddle.
"We haven't "Don't waste it," said a voice. "You'll be grateful for it one day."
It was the same tone of voice Granny used when Esk was less than enthusiastic about a plateful of nourishing sallet greens, boiled yellow until the last few vitamins gave in, but to Skiller's hypersensitive got any," he said. He looked hard at the staff and his eyebrows met conspiratorially over his nose. "You could have a look," said Esk. Skiller eased himself back across the bar, partly to avoid the gaze, which was causing his eyes to water in sympathy, and partly because a horrible suspicion was congealing in his mind. Even second-rate barmen tend to resonate with the beer they serve, and the vibrations coming from the big barrels behind him no longer had the twang of hop and head. They were broadcasting an altogether more lactic note. He turned a tap experimentally, and watched a thin stream of milk curdle in the drip bucket. The staff still poked up over the edge of the counter, like a periscope. He could swear that it was staring at him too.
What?" he said.
"Milk," said the child, still focussing furiously. "You get it out of goats. You know?"
Skiller sold only beer, which his customers claimed he got out of cats. No self-respecting goat would have endured the smell in the Fiddler's Riddle.
"We haven't "Don't waste it," said a voice. "You'll be grateful for it one day."
It was the same tone of voice Granny used when Esk was less than enthusiastic about a plateful of nourishing sallet greens, boiled yellow until the last few vitamins gave in, but to Skiller's hypersensitive got any," he said. He looked hard at the staff and his eyebrows met conspiratorially over his nose. "You could have a look," said Esk. Skiller eased himself back across the bar, partly to avoid the gaze, which was causing his eyes to water in sympathy, and partly because a horrible suspicion was congealing in his mind. Even second-rate barmen tend to resonate with the beer they serve, and the vibrations coming from the big barrels behind him no longer had the twang of hop and head. They were broadcasting an altogether more lactic note. He turned a tap experimentally, and watched a thin stream of milk curdle in the drip bucket. The staff still poked up over the edge of the counter, like a periscope. He could swear that it was staring at him too.
Thursday, 5 March 2009
John Constable The White Horse
John Constable The White HorseJohn Constable The Hay WainJohn Constable Salisbury Cathedral
greasy little steps which might not even still be there, you can forget it,' said Rincewind sharply.
'There is an alternative, then.'
'Out with it, man.'
'You could drop five hundred feet down a pitch black tower and hit stones which certainly are there,' said Twoflower.
Dead . 'I can feel mine.'
The leading torch stopped its climb and a voice rang out, filling the hollow tower with indecipherable echoes.
'I think,' said Twoflower, aware that he was gradually sliding further over the hole, 'that was someone telling us to hold on.'silence came from below him. Then Rincewind said, accusingly, 'That was sarcasm.''I thought it was just stating the obvious.'Rincewind grunted.'I suppose you couldn't do some magic—' Twoflower began.'No.''Just a thought.'There was a flare of light far below, and a confused shouting, and then more lights, more shouting, and a line f torches starting up the long spiral.'There's some people coming up the stairs,' said Twoflower, always keen to inform.'I hope they're running,' said Rincewind. 'I can't feel my arm.''You're lucky,' said Twoflower
greasy little steps which might not even still be there, you can forget it,' said Rincewind sharply.
'There is an alternative, then.'
'Out with it, man.'
'You could drop five hundred feet down a pitch black tower and hit stones which certainly are there,' said Twoflower.
Dead . 'I can feel mine.'
The leading torch stopped its climb and a voice rang out, filling the hollow tower with indecipherable echoes.
'I think,' said Twoflower, aware that he was gradually sliding further over the hole, 'that was someone telling us to hold on.'silence came from below him. Then Rincewind said, accusingly, 'That was sarcasm.''I thought it was just stating the obvious.'Rincewind grunted.'I suppose you couldn't do some magic—' Twoflower began.'No.''Just a thought.'There was a flare of light far below, and a confused shouting, and then more lights, more shouting, and a line f torches starting up the long spiral.'There's some people coming up the stairs,' said Twoflower, always keen to inform.'I hope they're running,' said Rincewind. 'I can't feel my arm.''You're lucky,' said Twoflower
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
Jack Vettriano Back Where You Belong
Jack Vettriano Back Where You Belong
Jack Vettriano WaltzersJack Vettriano The Red RoomJack Vettriano The Letter
'Ideal shpot, I'd shay.'
'Yes, I thought so,' said Rincewind bitterly. He set off, wondering how you attracted onions. After all, he thought, althoughyew tree,' said a voice beside him.
'Ah,' said Rincewind. 'Good.'
There was a long silence, except for the buzzing of the mosquitoes around Rincewind's ears.
He was standing perfectly still. He hadn't even moved his eyes.
Eventually he said, 'Excuse me.' you see them hanging in ropes on market stalls they probably don't grow like that, perhaps peasants or whatever use onions hounds or something, or ing songs to attract onions.There were a few early stars out as he started to poke aimlessly among the leaves and grass. Luminous fungi, unpleasantly organic and looking like marital aids for gnomes, squished under his feet. Small flying things bit him. Other things, fortunately invisible, hopped or slithered away under the bushes and croaked reproachfully at him.'Onions?' whispered Rincewind. 'Any onions here?''There's a patch of them by that old
Jack Vettriano WaltzersJack Vettriano The Red RoomJack Vettriano The Letter
'Ideal shpot, I'd shay.'
'Yes, I thought so,' said Rincewind bitterly. He set off, wondering how you attracted onions. After all, he thought, althoughyew tree,' said a voice beside him.
'Ah,' said Rincewind. 'Good.'
There was a long silence, except for the buzzing of the mosquitoes around Rincewind's ears.
He was standing perfectly still. He hadn't even moved his eyes.
Eventually he said, 'Excuse me.' you see them hanging in ropes on market stalls they probably don't grow like that, perhaps peasants or whatever use onions hounds or something, or ing songs to attract onions.There were a few early stars out as he started to poke aimlessly among the leaves and grass. Luminous fungi, unpleasantly organic and looking like marital aids for gnomes, squished under his feet. Small flying things bit him. Other things, fortunately invisible, hopped or slithered away under the bushes and croaked reproachfully at him.'Onions?' whispered Rincewind. 'Any onions here?''There's a patch of them by that old
Monday, 2 March 2009
Vincent van Gogh Olive grove I
Vincent van Gogh Olive grove IVincent van Gogh Madhouse garden of St-RemyVincent van Gogh Landscape at Auvers in the RainVincent van Gogh The Plain at Auvers
'Trees,' said a voice out of the darkness, high above. It possessed what can only be described as timbre.
'Yeah,' said the youngest wizard. He sucked on his dogend, and shivered.
The leader of the party peered over the rock and watched the cottage.
'Right then,' he said'If you don't watch out the fairy will come and take all your teeth away,' said Rincewind.
'No, that's elves,' said Swires from the dressing table. 'Elves do that. Toenails, too. Very touchy at times, elves can be.', knocking out his pipe on the heel of his seven league boot, who squeaked in protest. 'We rush in, we grab them, we're away. Okay?''You sure it's just people?' said the youngest wizard, nervously.'Of course I'm sure,' snarled the leader. 'What do you expect, three bears?''There could be monsters. This is the sort of wood that 45 has monsters.''And trees,' said a friendly voice from the branches. 'Yeah,' said the leader, cautiously. Rincewind looked carefully at the bed. It was quite a nice little bed, in a sort of hard toffee inlaid with caramel, but he'd rather eat it than sleep in it and it looked as though someone already had.'Someone's been eating my bed,' he said.'I like toffee,' said Twoflower defensively.
'Trees,' said a voice out of the darkness, high above. It possessed what can only be described as timbre.
'Yeah,' said the youngest wizard. He sucked on his dogend, and shivered.
The leader of the party peered over the rock and watched the cottage.
'Right then,' he said'If you don't watch out the fairy will come and take all your teeth away,' said Rincewind.
'No, that's elves,' said Swires from the dressing table. 'Elves do that. Toenails, too. Very touchy at times, elves can be.', knocking out his pipe on the heel of his seven league boot, who squeaked in protest. 'We rush in, we grab them, we're away. Okay?''You sure it's just people?' said the youngest wizard, nervously.'Of course I'm sure,' snarled the leader. 'What do you expect, three bears?''There could be monsters. This is the sort of wood that 45 has monsters.''And trees,' said a friendly voice from the branches. 'Yeah,' said the leader, cautiously. Rincewind looked carefully at the bed. It was quite a nice little bed, in a sort of hard toffee inlaid with caramel, but he'd rather eat it than sleep in it and it looked as though someone already had.'Someone's been eating my bed,' he said.'I like toffee,' said Twoflower defensively.
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Herbert James Draper Prospero Summoning Nymphs and Deities
Herbert James Draper Prospero Summoning Nymphs and DeitiesHerbert James Draper Pot PourriHerbert James Draper Portrait Of Miss Barbara De SelincourtHerbert James Draper Day and the Dawnstar
sinking away. Something else that was large and fortunately unidentifiable howled in the mist. A whole squadron of , half falling and half diving towards the prow.
Something hard and unyielding smacked into the hull, which spun ninety degrees and came side on to the invisible obstacle. Then it stopped suddenly and a wash of cold sea foam cascaded over the deck, so that for a few seconds Rincewind was under several feet of boiling green water. He began to scream and then the underwater world became flying fish tumbled up in a cloud of rainbow-edged droplets and managed to gain a few yards before dropping back and being swept in an eddy.They were running out of world. Rincewind dropped his bucket and snatched at the mast as the roaring, final end of everything raced towards them."I must see this" said Twoflower
sinking away. Something else that was large and fortunately unidentifiable howled in the mist. A whole squadron of , half falling and half diving towards the prow.
Something hard and unyielding smacked into the hull, which spun ninety degrees and came side on to the invisible obstacle. Then it stopped suddenly and a wash of cold sea foam cascaded over the deck, so that for a few seconds Rincewind was under several feet of boiling green water. He began to scream and then the underwater world became flying fish tumbled up in a cloud of rainbow-edged droplets and managed to gain a few yards before dropping back and being swept in an eddy.They were running out of world. Rincewind dropped his bucket and snatched at the mast as the roaring, final end of everything raced towards them."I must see this" said Twoflower
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