Franz Marc TigerFranz Marc StablesFranz Marc Foxes
said the dust was afraid of it! Can you imagine?"
"Yes," saidwindows and stared out over the city. She was feeling angrier than usual, so the broom attacked the dust with unusual vigour. Spiders ran desperate eight-legged dashes for safety as ancestral cobwebs disappeared into the void. In the walls mice clung to each other, legs braced against the inside of their holes. Woodworm scrabbled in the ceiling beams as they were drawn, inexorably, backwards down their tunnels. Granny. Mrs Whitlow pushed her teacup towards her and gave her an embarrassed smile. Granny sighed inwardly and squinted into the none-too-clean depths of the future. She was definitely beginning to run out of imagination. The broom whisked down the corridor raising a great cloud of dust which, if you looked hard at it, seemed somehow to be sucked back into the broomstick. If you looked even harder you'd see that the broom handle had strange markings on it, which were not so much carved as clinging and somehow changed shape as you watched. But no one looked. Esk sat at one of the high deep
Monday, March 9, 2009
Salvador Dali Ascension
Salvador Dali AscensionPhilip Craig Boboli Gardens - FlorenceWassily Kandinsky Dominant Curve
Eh?" said Simon, opening his eyes in time to stop the oxen wandering off the track.
"You said all those wubbleyous!"
"Idid?"
"I heard you! Try again."
Simon took a deep breath. "The worworwor - the wuwuw -" he said. "The wowowoo-" he continued.
"It's no good, it's gone," he said. "It happens sometimes, if I don't think about it. Master Treatle says I'm allergic to pass of orange rock. Simon looked at it disconsolately.
"My granny taught me some hayfever cures," Esk said. "We could try those."
Simon shook his head. It looked touch and go whether it would fall off.
"Tried everything," he said. "Fine wwiwwi-magician I'd make, eh, can't even sss-utter the wowo-name."
"I could see where that would be a problem," said Esk. She watched the scenery for a while, marshalling a train of thought.something." "Allergic to double-yous?" "No, sisssisi-" //-silly-" said Esk, generously. "- there's sososo-" "- something -" "- in the air, p-pollen maybe, or g-grass dust. Master Treatle has tried to find the cause of it but no magic seems to h-help it." They were passing through a narrow
Eh?" said Simon, opening his eyes in time to stop the oxen wandering off the track.
"You said all those wubbleyous!"
"Idid?"
"I heard you! Try again."
Simon took a deep breath. "The worworwor - the wuwuw -" he said. "The wowowoo-" he continued.
"It's no good, it's gone," he said. "It happens sometimes, if I don't think about it. Master Treatle says I'm allergic to pass of orange rock. Simon looked at it disconsolately.
"My granny taught me some hayfever cures," Esk said. "We could try those."
Simon shook his head. It looked touch and go whether it would fall off.
"Tried everything," he said. "Fine wwiwwi-magician I'd make, eh, can't even sss-utter the wowo-name."
"I could see where that would be a problem," said Esk. She watched the scenery for a while, marshalling a train of thought.something." "Allergic to double-yous?" "No, sisssisi-" //-silly-" said Esk, generously. "- there's sososo-" "- something -" "- in the air, p-pollen maybe, or g-grass dust. Master Treatle has tried to find the cause of it but no magic seems to h-help it." They were passing through a narrow
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Ford Madox Brown Romeo and Juliet
Ford Madox Brown Romeo and JulietPierre Auguste Renoir La PromenadePierre Auguste Renoir Dance in the Country
She tried to recall the bits of lessons that Granny grudgingly doled out. It isn't what you know, it's what other people don't know. Magic can be something right in the wrong place, or something wrong in the right place. It can be
Granny always wore it to the village. And the big black cloak, which certainly wasn't magical, because for most of the winter it had been a goat blanket and Granny washed it in the spring.
Esk ." She tapped her silver hair, which was drawn into a tight bun that could crack rocks.
"But it's not real!" Esk protested. "That's not magic, it's it's -"
"Listen," said Granny, "If you give someone a bottle of red jollop for their began to feel the shape of the answer and she didn't like it much. It was like a lot of Granny's answers. Just a word trick. She just said things you knew all the time, but in a different way so they sounded important. "I think I know," she said at last. "Out with it, then." "It's in sort of two parts." "Well?" "It's a witch's hat because you wear it. But you're a witch because you wear the hat. Um." "So -"prompted Granny. "So people see you coming in the hat and the cloak and they know you're a witch and that's why your magic works?" said Esk. "That's right," said Granny. "It's called headology
She tried to recall the bits of lessons that Granny grudgingly doled out. It isn't what you know, it's what other people don't know. Magic can be something right in the wrong place, or something wrong in the right place. It can be
Granny always wore it to the village. And the big black cloak, which certainly wasn't magical, because for most of the winter it had been a goat blanket and Granny washed it in the spring.
Esk ." She tapped her silver hair, which was drawn into a tight bun that could crack rocks.
"But it's not real!" Esk protested. "That's not magic, it's it's -"
"Listen," said Granny, "If you give someone a bottle of red jollop for their began to feel the shape of the answer and she didn't like it much. It was like a lot of Granny's answers. Just a word trick. She just said things you knew all the time, but in a different way so they sounded important. "I think I know," she said at last. "Out with it, then." "It's in sort of two parts." "Well?" "It's a witch's hat because you wear it. But you're a witch because you wear the hat. Um." "So -"prompted Granny. "So people see you coming in the hat and the cloak and they know you're a witch and that's why your magic works?" said Esk. "That's right," said Granny. "It's called headology
Vincent van Gogh View of Arles with Irises I
Vincent van Gogh View of Arles with Irises IVincent van Gogh Wheatfield with a LarkVincent van Gogh Vegetable Gardens in MontmartreVincent van Gogh Vegetable gardens at the Montmartre
The crowd surged over one of the bridges that linked Morpork with Ankh. Below it the river, turgid at the best of times, was a mere trickle which steamed.
The bridge shook under their feet rather more than it should. Strange ripples ran across the muddy remains of the river. A few tiles slid off the roof of a nearby house.
'What was that?' said Twoflower.
Bethan looked behind them, and screamed.
The star was rising. As the Disc's own sun scurried for safety below the horizon the great bloated ball of the star climbed slowly into the sky until the whole of it was several degrees above the edge of the world.
They pulled Rincewind into the safety of a doorway. The crowd hardly noticed them, but ran on, terrified as lemmings.
'The star's got spots on,' said Twoflower.
'No,' saidits gates were, generally, making one of two demands. They were demanding that either a) the wizards should stop messing about and get rid of the star or, and this was the demand favoured by the star people, that b) they should cease all magic and commit suicide in good order, thus ridding the Disc of the curse of magic and warding off the terrible threat in the sky.
The wizards on the other side of the w
The crowd surged over one of the bridges that linked Morpork with Ankh. Below it the river, turgid at the best of times, was a mere trickle which steamed.
The bridge shook under their feet rather more than it should. Strange ripples ran across the muddy remains of the river. A few tiles slid off the roof of a nearby house.
'What was that?' said Twoflower.
Bethan looked behind them, and screamed.
The star was rising. As the Disc's own sun scurried for safety below the horizon the great bloated ball of the star climbed slowly into the sky until the whole of it was several degrees above the edge of the world.
They pulled Rincewind into the safety of a doorway. The crowd hardly noticed them, but ran on, terrified as lemmings.
'The star's got spots on,' said Twoflower.
'No,' saidits gates were, generally, making one of two demands. They were demanding that either a) the wizards should stop messing about and get rid of the star or, and this was the demand favoured by the star people, that b) they should cease all magic and commit suicide in good order, thus ridding the Disc of the curse of magic and warding off the terrible threat in the sky.
The wizards on the other side of the w
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Salvador Dali Asummpta Corpuscularia Lapislazulina
Salvador Dali Asummpta Corpuscularia LapislazulinaJohn Singer Sargent A Morning Walk ladyJohn Singer Sargent The Chess GameJohn Singer Sargent The Breakfast Table
Twoflower appear like a colour plate?
Probably not, he decided. The Octavo they were in was something a bit different from the mere book chained to its lectern deep in Unseen University, which was merely a three-dimensional representation of a multidimensional reality, and—
Hold on, he thought. I don't think like this. Who's thinking for me?
'Rincewind,' said a voice like the rustle of old pages.
'Who? Me?'
'Of course you, you daft sod.'
A flicker of defiance flared very briefly in Rincewind's battered heart.
'Have you managed to recall how the Universe started yet?' he said nastily. 'The Clearing of the Throat, wasn't it, or the Drawing of the Breath, or the Scratching of the Head and Trying to Remember It, It was On the Tip of the Tongue?'
Another voice, dry as tinder, hissed, 'You would do well to remember where you are.' It should be
Twoflower appear like a colour plate?
Probably not, he decided. The Octavo they were in was something a bit different from the mere book chained to its lectern deep in Unseen University, which was merely a three-dimensional representation of a multidimensional reality, and—
Hold on, he thought. I don't think like this. Who's thinking for me?
'Rincewind,' said a voice like the rustle of old pages.
'Who? Me?'
'Of course you, you daft sod.'
A flicker of defiance flared very briefly in Rincewind's battered heart.
'Have you managed to recall how the Universe started yet?' he said nastily. 'The Clearing of the Throat, wasn't it, or the Drawing of the Breath, or the Scratching of the Head and Trying to Remember It, It was On the Tip of the Tongue?'
Another voice, dry as tinder, hissed, 'You would do well to remember where you are.' It should be
Monday, March 2, 2009
Leroy Neiman Roulette II
Leroy Neiman Roulette IILeroy Neiman Marlin FishingLeroy Neiman Mardi Gras ParadeLeroy Neiman Lights of Broadway
other bigger, is he all right?' he said solicitously.
'He's just suffering from reality shock,' said Rincewind. You haven't got a red hat, by any chance?'
'Wheet?'
'Just a thought.'
'I know where there's some food for biggers,' said the gnome, 'and shelter, too. It's not far.'
Rincewind , anxiously. 'Did it hurt?'
The Luggage seemed to think about this. Every brass handle, every knothole, radiated extreme concentration.
Then it shrugged its lid and waddled away.
The tree sighed, and shook a few dead leaves out of its twigs.
looked at the lowering sky. The daylight was draining out of the landscape and the clouds looked as if they had heard about snow and were considering the idea. Of course, people who lived in mushrooms couldn't necessarily be trusted, but right now a trap baited with a hot meal and clean sheets would have had the wizard hammering to get in.They set off. After a few seconds the Luggage got carefully to its feet and started to follow.'Psst!'It turned carefully, little legs moving in a complicated pattern, and appeared to look up.'Is it good, being joinery?' said the tree
other bigger, is he all right?' he said solicitously.
'He's just suffering from reality shock,' said Rincewind. You haven't got a red hat, by any chance?'
'Wheet?'
'Just a thought.'
'I know where there's some food for biggers,' said the gnome, 'and shelter, too. It's not far.'
Rincewind , anxiously. 'Did it hurt?'
The Luggage seemed to think about this. Every brass handle, every knothole, radiated extreme concentration.
Then it shrugged its lid and waddled away.
The tree sighed, and shook a few dead leaves out of its twigs.
looked at the lowering sky. The daylight was draining out of the landscape and the clouds looked as if they had heard about snow and were considering the idea. Of course, people who lived in mushrooms couldn't necessarily be trusted, but right now a trap baited with a hot meal and clean sheets would have had the wizard hammering to get in.They set off. After a few seconds the Luggage got carefully to its feet and started to follow.'Psst!'It turned carefully, little legs moving in a complicated pattern, and appeared to look up.'Is it good, being joinery?' said the tree
Paul Cezanne Table Corner
Paul Cezanne Table CornerPaul Cezanne Still Life with Soup TureenPaul Cezanne Still Life with Fruit Pitcher and Fruit-VasePaul Cezanne Poplar Trees
wizard made out the shape of something, the edge of something-
Like those curious little pictures where the silhouette of an ornate glass suddenly becomes the outline of two faces, the , sweeping slowly past it, was something that for all its city-sized scales, its crater-pocks, its lunar cragginess, was indubitably a flipper.
"Shall I let go?" suggested the troll
"Gnah," said Rincewind, straining backwards.
"I have lived here on the Edge for five years and I have not had the courage," boomed Tethis. "Nor have you, if I'm any judge." He stepped back, allowing Rincewind to fling himself onto the ground.scene beneath him flipped into a whole, new, terrifying perspective. Because down there was the head of an elephant as big as a reasonably-sized continent. One mighty tusk cut like a mountain against the golden light, trailing a widening shadow towards the stars. The head was slightly tilted, and a huge ruby eye might almost have been a red super-giant that had managed to shine at noonday.Below the elephant-Rincewind swallowed and tried not to think-Below the elephant there was nothing but the distant, painful disc of the sun. And
wizard made out the shape of something, the edge of something-
Like those curious little pictures where the silhouette of an ornate glass suddenly becomes the outline of two faces, the , sweeping slowly past it, was something that for all its city-sized scales, its crater-pocks, its lunar cragginess, was indubitably a flipper.
"Shall I let go?" suggested the troll
"Gnah," said Rincewind, straining backwards.
"I have lived here on the Edge for five years and I have not had the courage," boomed Tethis. "Nor have you, if I'm any judge." He stepped back, allowing Rincewind to fling himself onto the ground.scene beneath him flipped into a whole, new, terrifying perspective. Because down there was the head of an elephant as big as a reasonably-sized continent. One mighty tusk cut like a mountain against the golden light, trailing a widening shadow towards the stars. The head was slightly tilted, and a huge ruby eye might almost have been a red super-giant that had managed to shine at noonday.Below the elephant-Rincewind swallowed and tried not to think-Below the elephant there was nothing but the distant, painful disc of the sun. And
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