contemporary abstract painting 100222

Jack Vettriano Sometimes It's A Man's World

2009-05-12T23:21:00.000-07:00

Jack Vettriano Sometimes It's A Man's WorldJack Vettriano Soho NightsJack Vettriano Silhouette
Hibiscus bustled up. 'You boys ready, then?' he said.
'Hold on a minute,' said Cliff. 'We ain't discussed our pay.'
'I said six his arm around Glod's head and led him to a corner of the room.
Buddy watched the Librarian examine the piano. He'd never seen a musician begin by trying to eat his instrument. Then the ape lifted the lid and regarded the keyboard. He tried a few notes, apparently for taste.
Glod returned, rubbing his hands.
'That's sorted him out,' he said. 'Hah!'
'How much?' said Cliff.
'Six dollars!' said Glod.dollars,' said Hibiscus. 'What d'you expect? You aren't Guild, and the Guild rate is eight dollars.'‘We wouldn't ask you for eight dollars,' said Glod.'Right!''We'll take sixteen.''Sixteen? You can't do that! That's almost twice Guild rate!''But there's a lot of people out there,' said Glod. 'I bet you're renting a lot of beer. We don't mind going home.''Let's talk about this,' said Hibiscus. He put

Franz Marc fate animals

2009-05-11T23:48:00.001-07:00

Franz Marc fate animalsFranz Marc Blue HorseMarc Chagall The Three CandlesMarc Chagall Paris Through the Window
dwarf took a deep breath, and extracted from the horn a deep, throbbing sound.
People drummed their fingers on the edge of the tables. The orang was sitting with a huge rapt grin on his face, as though he'd swallowed a banana sideways.
Susan looked down at the hourglass marked Imp y Celyn.
The top bulb The Librarian's hair was standing on end, all over his body. The ends crackled.
It made you want to kick down walls and ascend the sky on steps of fire. It made you want to pull all the switches and throw all the levers and stick your fingers in the electric socket was now quite empty of sand, but something blue flickered in there.She felt tiny pin‑like claws scrabble up her back and find purchase on her shoulder.The Death of Rats looked down at the glass.SQUEAK, it said, quietly.Susan still wasn't good on Rat but she thought she knew 'uh‑oh' when she heard it.Imp's fingers danced over the strings, but the sound that came from them was no relative to the tones of harp or lute. The guitar screamed like an angel who had just discovered why it was on the wrong side. Sparks glittered on the strings.Imp himself had his eyes shut and was holding the instrument close to his chest, like a soldier holding a spear at the port. It was hard to know who was playing what.And still the music flooded out.

Dirck Bouts Resurrection

2009-05-07T01:34:00.001-07:00

Dirck Bouts ResurrectionDirck Bouts The Gathering of the MannaDirck Bouts The Meeting of Abraham and MelchizedekFrederic Edwin Church Sunset
gather that you and, er, Constable Angua are getting along well?'
'We have a very good Understanding, sir. Of course, there will be minor difficulties,' said Carrot, 'but, to look on the positive side, I've,' said Lady Ramkin, from her side of the dining table. 'We must get you on that. And the Country Landowners' Association. And the Friendly Flamethrowers' League. Cheer up. You'll find your time will just fill up like nobody's business.'
'Yes, dear,' said Vimes. The days stretched ahead of him, just filling up like nobody's business got someone who's always ready for a walk around the city.'As Carrot had his hand on the door handle Lord Vetinari called out to him.'Yes, sir?'Carrot looked back at the tall thin man, standing in the big bare room beside the golden throne filled with decay.'You're a man interested in words, captain. I'd just invite you to consider something your predecessor never fully grasped.''Sir?''Have you ever wondered where the word "politician" comes from?' said the Patrician. And then there's the committee of the Sunshine Sanctuary

Cao Yong TWILIGHT BY THE FOUNTAIN

2009-05-04T23:25:00.001-07:00

Cao Yong TWILIGHT BY THE FOUNTAINCao Yong TRANSAMERICA PYRAMIDCao Yong THE VISION BEYOND
said Carrot. 'Ordinary hens' eggs. What you do is, you get a hen's egg, and you make a hole in either end and you blow the egg stuff out,ones had faded almost to nothing. She put it down and unconsciously wiped her hand on her tunic.
'What happens if a clown wants to use another clown's face?' she said.
'Oh, we compare all the new eggs with the ones on the shelves,' said Boffo. 'It's not allowed.'
They walked between aisles of faces. Angua fanded she could hear the squelch of a million custard-filled trousers and the echoes of a thousand honking noses and a million and then a clown paints his make-up on the egg and that's his official make-up and no other clown can use it. That's very important. Some faces have been in the same family for generations, you know. Very valuable thing, a clown's face. Isn't that so, Boffo?'The clown was staring at him.'How do you know all that?''I read it in a book.'Angua picked up an ancient egg. There was a label attached to it, and on the label were a dozen names, all crossed out except the last one. The ink on the earlier

William Merritt Chase Idle Hours

2009-04-28T23:57:00.000-07:00

William Merritt Chase Idle HoursWilliam Merritt Chase ReflectionsJulius LeBlanc Stewart The LetterFrederic Edwin Church Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives
a dead end.'
The two Watchmen lumbered to a halt.
Cuddy knew that he was currently the brains of the partnership, even though Detritus was presently counting, his face name was fortunately lost in the celebrated mists of time, but it had come to be deserved. It had turned into a kind of tunnel as upper storeys were built out and over it, leaving a few inches of sky.
Cuddy peered around the corner, into the gloom.
Click. Click.
It came from deep in the darkness.
'Detritus?'
'Yeah?'
'Did he have any weapons?'beaming with pride, the stones in the wall beside him.Why had they chased someone halfway across the dry ? Because they'd run away. No-one ran away from the Watch. Thieves just flashed their licences. Unlicensed thieves had nothing to fear from the Watch, since they'd saved up all their fear for the Thieves' Guild. Assassins always obeyed the letter of the law. And honest men didn't run away from the WatchRunning away from the Watch was downright suspicious.The origin of Grope Alley's

Thomas Gainsborough The Watering Place

2009-04-28T00:03:00.000-07:00

Thomas Gainsborough The Watering PlaceThomas Gainsborough The Morning WalkThomas Gainsborough The Harvest Wagon
was lucky!' he said. 'Could have been a nasty accident there.'
He triedto you, you were among the first to know.
His visitor grabbed the device from the bench and rammed it into a cloth bag. Then he looked around wildly, picked up the corpse of Mr Hammerhock, and dragged it through the door towards the river.
There was a distant splash, or as close to a splash as you could get from the Ankh.
'Oh dear,' said Bjorn. 'And I can't swim, either.'
THAT WILL NOT, OF COURSE, BE A PROBLEM, said Death.
Bjorn looked at him.
'You're a lot shorter than I thought you'd be,' he said. to fan some of the smoke away, and then reached for the file again.His hand went through it.AHEM.Bjorn tried again.The file was as insubstantial as the smoke.'What?'AHEM.The owner of the strange device was staring in horror at something on the floor. Bjorn followed his gaze.'Oh,' he said. Realization, which had been hovering on the edge of Bjorn's consciousness, finally dawned. That was the thing about death. When it happened

Andy Warhol Sunset

2009-04-26T23:40:00.000-07:00

Andy Warhol SunsetAndy Warhol Shadows IAndy Warhol OxidationAndy Warhol NeuschwansteinAndy Warhol Knives black and white
embarrassing disease he'd died of.
They had just eaten a not-very-good meal which had, however, included some ancient and worthwhile wines. They'd attended because they'd all known Edward's father, and the d'Eaths were a fine old family, if now in very reduced circumstances.
'So you see,' would be somewhat watered down by now, don't you think?'
'The royal b-lood cannot be wa-tered down!'
Ah, thought Lord Rust. So he's that kind. Young Edward thinks the touch of a king can cure scrofula, as if royalty was the equivalent of a sulphur ointment. Young Edward thinks that there is no lake of blood too big to wade through to put a rightful king on a throne, no deed too base in defence of a crown. A romantic, in fact.said Edward proudly, 'the evidence is overwhelming. We have a king!'His audience tried to avoid looking at one another's faces.'I thought you'd be pl-eased,' said Edward.Finally, Lord Rust voiced the unspoken consensus. There was no room in those true-blue eyes for pity, which was not a survival trait, but sometimes it was possible to risk a little kindness.'Edward,' he said, 'the last king of Ankh-Morpork died centuries ago.''Executed by t-raitors!''Even if a descendant could still be found, the royal blood

Cao Yong AGE OF INNOCENCE

2009-04-24T00:24:00.000-07:00

Cao Yong AGE OF INNOCENCECao Yong AFTERNOON TEACao Yong cao yong Red Umbrella
change in the texture of the forest now. It was old even by the standards of Lancre forestry. Beards of moss hung from gnarled low branches. Ancient leaves crack-led underfoot as the witch and the dwarf flew between the trees. Something heard them and crashed away through the thick undergrowth. By the sound of it, it was something with horns.
Nanny let the broomstick glide to a halt.
“There,” she said, pushing aside a bracken frond, ‘the Long Man.’”
Casanunda peeredon privy walls with 200,000 tons of earth, in a manner of speaking.”
248
LOR08 fiND Lft0/£6
“Doesn’t sound like you to be shocked by that sort of thing.”
She could have sworn the dwarf was blushing under his wig. under her elbow.“Is that all? It’s just an old burial mound.”“Three old burial mounds,” said NannyCasanunda took in the overgrown landscape.“Yes, I see them,” he said. “Two round ones and a long one. Well?”“The first time I saw ‘em from the air,” said Nanny, “I nearly fell off the bloody broomstick for laughin’.”There was one of those pauses known as the delayed drop while the dwarf worked out the topography of the situation.Then:“Blimey,” said Casanunda. “I thought the people who built burial mounds and earthworks and things were serious druids and people like that, not. . . not people who drew

Thomas Kinkade Cape Hatteras Light

2009-04-22T23:53:00.000-07:00

Thomas Kinkade Cape Hatteras LightJohn Collier Priestess of DelphiVincent van Gogh Starry Night over the Rhone I
types with pointy ears and a tendency to giggle and burn easily in sunshine. I ain’t talking about them.
There’s no harm in them. I’m talking about real wild elves,
what we ain’t seen here for—“
The road from the bridge to the town curved between high banks, with the forest crowding in on either side and in places even meeting overhead. Thick ferns, already curling like green breakers, lined the clay banks.
They rustled.
The unicorn Granny Weatherwax smiled.
Millie Chillum and the king and one or two hangers-on were clustered around the door to Magrat’s room when Nanny Ogg arrived.
“What’s happening?”
“I know she’s in there,” said Verence, holding his crown in his hands in the famous leapt on the road.Thousands of universes, twisting together like a rope being plaited from threads .. .There’s bound to be leakages, a sort of mental equivalent of’the channel breakthrough on a cheap hi-fi that gets you the news in Swedish during quiet bits in the music. Especially if you’ve spent your life using your mind as a receiver.187Terry PratchettPicking up the thoughts of another human being is very hard, because no two minds are on the same, er, wavelength.But somewhere out there, at the point where the parallel universes tangle, are a million minds just like yours. For a very obvious reason.

Pop art elvis

2009-04-21T00:49:00.000-07:00

Pop art elvisPop art coltrane on rustPop art Bruce Springsteen - The BOSSPop art booker t & the mgs on green
Well, that’s about it, then,” said Granny Weatherwax, as the warriors approached. She dropped her voice.
“When the time comes,” she said, “run.”
“What time?”
“You’ll know.”
Granny fell to in an area that Nanny Ogg would be surprised that Esme Weatherwax even knew about.
Diamanda was already running. Granny’s elbow caught the other elf in the chest as she set off after her.
Behind her, she heard the merry laughter of the elves.
Diamanda had been surprised at Granny’s old lady act. She was far more surprised when Granny drew level. But Granny had more to run away from.her knees as the elves approached.“Oh, deary me, oh spare my life, I am but a poor old woman and skinny also,” she said. “Oh spare my life, young sir. Oh lawks.”She curled up, sobbing. Diamanda looked at her in astonishment, not least at how anyone could expect to get away with something like that.115Terry PratchettElves had been away from humans for a long time. The first elf reached her, hauled her up by her shoulder, and got a doubled-handed, bony-knuckled punch

Leroy Neiman Roulette II

2009-04-20T00:13:00.000-07:00

Leroy Neiman Roulette IILeroy Neiman Marlin FishingLeroy Neiman Mardi Gras Parade
Weren’t my fault. Mum! How could I stop ‘em?”
Nanny sat back in the chair, smiling happily
“What them would these be, my son?”
“That young Diamanda and that Perdita and that girl with the red hair from over in Bad Ass and them others. I says to old Peason, I says you’d have something to say, I tole ‘em Mistress Weatherwax’d get her knic—would defi-nitely be sarcastic when she found out,” said Jason. “But they just laughs. They said they could teach ‘emselves witching.”
Nanny nodded. gone.”
“Ah.”
Nanny Ogg lit her pipe from the forge. Floppy hat and black nails and education. Oh, dear.
“How many of these gels are there, then?” she said.
“Bout half a dozen. But they’m good at it. Mum.”
“Yeah?”Actually, they were quite right. You could teach yourself witchcraft. But both the teacher and the pupil had to be the right kind of person.“Diamanda?” she said. “Don’t recall the name.”“Really she’s Lucy Tockley,” said Jason. “She says Diamanda is more .. . more witchy.”“Ah. The one that wears the big floppy felt hat?”“Yes, Mum.”“She’s the one that paints her nails black, too?”“Yes, Mum.”“Old Tockley sent her off to school, didn’t he?”“Yes, Mum. She came back while you was

Thomas Kinkade Pools of Serenity

2009-04-17T00:19:00.000-07:00

Thomas Kinkade Pools of SerenityThomas Kinkade Make a Wish Cottage 2Thomas Kinkade Home For Christmas
never forget a face, friend. Just take yours away, right? While you still have some left?"
He turned back to the game.
"S'cuse me," said a voice by his waist. He looked down at a very large newt.
"Yes?"
"You not supposed do that here. No Smiting. Not up here. It the rules. You want fight, you get your humans fight his humans."
"Who're you?"
"P'tang-P'tang, me."
"You're a god?"
"Definite."
"Yeah? How many worshipers have you got?"
"Fifty-one!"
The newt looked at him hopefully, and added, "Is that lots? Can't count."
It pointed at. It seemed simpler when you were up here. It was all a game. You forgot that it wasn't a game down there. People died. Bits got chopped off. We're like eagles up here, he thought. Sometimes we show a tortoise how to flY.
Then we let go.
He said, to the occult world in general, "There's people going to die down there." a rather crudely molded figure on the beach in Omnia and said, "But got a stake!"Om looked at the figure of the little fisherman."When he dies, you'll have fifty worshippers," he said."That more or less than fifty-one?""A lot less.""Definite?""Yes.""No one tell me that."There were several dozen gods watching the beach. Om vaguely remembered the Ephebian statues. There was the goddess with the badly carved owl. Yes.Om rubbed his head. This wasn't god-like thinking
A Tsortean God of the Sun did not even bother to

Claude Monet La Grenouillere

2009-04-16T00:33:00.001-07:00

Claude Monet La GrenouillereFabian Perez TangoFabian Perez Flamenco
has spoken to me. A machine that goes by itself? Such a thing is against all reason. Where are its muscles? Where is its mind?"
"Yes, lord."
The inquisitor, whose name was Deacon Cusp, had got where he was today, which was a place he wasn't sure right now that he "I have . . . special knowledge," said Vorbis.
"Of course, lord."
"You know the breaking strain of sinews and muscles, Deacon Cusp."
Cusp had formed an opinion that Vorbis was somewhere on the other side of madnesswanted to be, because he liked hurting people. It was a simple desire, and one that was satisfied in abundance within the Quisition. And he was one of those who were terrified in a very particular way by Vorbis. Hurting people because you enjoyed it . . . that was understandable. Vorbis just hurt people because he'd decided that they should be hurt, without passion, even with a kind of hard love.In Cusp's experience, people didn't make things up, ultimately, not in front of an exquisitor. Or course there were no such things as devices that moved by themselves, but he made a mental note to increase the guard-"However," said Vorbis, "there will be a disturbance during the ceremony tomorrow.""Lord?"

Henri Rousseau The Flamingos

2009-04-15T00:17:00.000-07:00

Henri Rousseau The FlamingosHenri Rousseau The Equatorial JungleHenri Rousseau The Boat in the StormHenri Rousseau Surprise
may go where you wish. See new things, Brutha. Learn everything you can. You are my eyes and ears. And my memory. Learn about this place."
"Er. Really, lord?"
"Have I impressed you with my use of careless language, Brutha?"
"No, lord."
"Go away. Fill yourself. And be back by sunset."
"Er. Even the Library?" said Brutha.
"Ah? Yes, the Library. The Library that they have here. Of course. Crammed with useless and dangerous and evil knowledge. I can see it in my mind, Brutha. Can you imagine that?"
"No, Lord stare at the wall. Brutha wondered what he saw there. When nothing else appeared to be forthcoming, he said, "Thank you."
He stepped back a bit before he went out, so that he could squint under the deacon's bed.
He's probably in trouble, Brutha thought as he hurried through the palace. Everyone wants to eat tortoises.
He tried to look everywhere while avoiding the friezes of unclad nymphsVorbis.""Your innocence is your shield, Brutha. No. By all means go to the Library. I have no fear of any effect on you. ""Lord Vorbis?""Yes?""The Tyrant said that they hardly did anything to Brother Murduck . . ."Silence unrolled its restless length.Vorbis said, "He lied.""Yes." Brutha waited. Vorbis continued to

Pierre Auguste Renoir Les baigneuses

2009-04-13T23:13:00.000-07:00

Pierre Auguste Renoir Les baigneusesPierre Auguste Renoir By the SeashoreThomas Kinkade Victorian AutumnThomas Kinkade The Night Before Christmas
ought to mulch the melons and explain things to Lu-Tze.
Lu-Tze came with the gardens.
Every organization has someone like him. They might be pushing a broom in obscure corridors, or wandering among the shelves in. He dealt in soil, manure, muck, compost, loam, and dust, and the means of moving it about. Generally he was pushing a broom, or turning over a heap. Once anyone put seeds in anything he lost interest.
He was raking the paths when Brutha entered. He was good at raking paths. He left scallop patterns and gentle soothing curves. Brutha always felt apologetic about walking on them.
He hardly ever spoke to Lu-Tze, because it didn't matter much what anyone ever said the back of the stores (where they are the only person who knows where anything is) or have some ambiguous but essential relationship with the boiler-room. Everyone knows who they are and no one remembers a time when they weren't there, or knows where they go when they're not, well, where they usually are. Just occasionally, people who are slightly more observant than most other people, which is not on the face of it very difficult, stop and wonder about them for a while . . . and then get on with something else.Strangely enough, given his gentle ambling from garden to garden around the Citadel, Lu-Tze never showed much interest in the plants themselves

George Bellows Stag at Sharkey's

2009-04-13T00:32:00.000-07:00

George Bellows Stag at Sharkey'sGeorge Bellows Dempsey and FirpoCaravaggio The Sacrifice of Isaac
face.
'Is your geese giving you trouble?' said the Seriph.
'Geas,' said The scattered particles of what had been Rincewind's mind pulled themselves together and drifted up through the layers of dark unconsciousness like a three-day corpse rising to the surface.
It probed its most recent memories, in much the same way that one might scratch a fresh scab.
He could recall something about a staff, and a pain so intense that it appeared to insert a chisel between every cell in his body and hammer on it repeatedly.Nijel calmly. 'It's not giving me trouble, it's just that I must do something brave before I die.''That's it though,' said Creosote. 'That's the whole rather sad point. You'll do something brave, and then you'll die.''What alternative have we got?' said Nijel.They considered this.'I don't think I'm much good at explaining,' said Conina, in a small voice.'I am,' said Nijel, firmly. 'I'm always having to explain.'

Gustave Caillebotte Oarsmen

2009-04-10T00:13:00.000-07:00

Gustave Caillebotte OarsmenLorenzo Lotto Mystic Marriage of St CatherineLorenzo Lotto Angel Annunciating
One story said that the gods stepped in, but the gods don't usually take a hand in human affairs unless it amuses themthe world. There's going to be a horrible war. It's all going to happen. The Disc is too old to take it this time. Everything's been worn too thin. Doom, darkness and destruction bear down on us. The Apocralypse is nigh.'
'Death walks abroad,' added Nijel helpfully.
'What?' snapped Rincewind, angry at being interrupted.. Another one - and this was the one that the wizards themselves told, and wrote down in their books - was that the wizards themselves got together and settled their differences amicably for the good of mankind. And this was generally accepted as the true account, despite being as internally likely as a lead lifebelt.The truth isn't easily pinned to a page. In the bathtub of history the truth is harder to hold than the soap, and much more difficult to find ... 'What happened, then?' said Conina.'It doesn't matter,' said Rincewind, mournfully. 'It's going to start all over again. I can feel it. I've got this instinct. There's too much magic flowing into

Salvador Dali Galatea of the Spheres

2009-04-09T01:25:00.000-07:00

Salvador Dali Galatea of the SpheresSalvador Dali GalarinaSalvador Dali Figure at a Window I
in probably wasn't the same building when you woke up. Rooms had a habit of changing and moving around, a consequence of all this random magic. It built up in the carpets, charging up the wizards to such an extent that shaking kedgeree when you lifted it off the plate might well have turned into something else by the time it entered your mouth. If you were lucky, it was inedible. If you were unlucky, it was edible but probably not something you liked to think you were about to eat or, worse, had already eaten half of.
Spelter found Coin in what had been, late last night, a broom cupboard. It was hands with somebody was a sure-fire way of turning them into something. The build up of magic, in fact, was overflowing the capacity of the area to hold it. If something wasn't done about it soon, then even the common people would be able to use it - a chilling thought but, since Spelter's mind was already so full of chilling thoughts you could use it as an ice tray, not one he was going to spend much time worrying about.Mere household geography wasn't the only difficulty, though. Sheer pressure of thaumaturgical inflow was even affecting the food. What was a forkful of

William Merritt Chase Idle Hours

2009-04-08T01:31:00.001-07:00

William Merritt Chase Idle HoursWilliam Merritt Chase ReflectionsJulius LeBlanc Stewart The Letter
Rincewind sat and stared blankly at nothing much for fully ten seconds before giving a little scream and running as fast as he could.
He didn't stop until he'd reached his own room in the Library building. It wasn't much of a room, being mainly used to store oldAnd on top of the wardrobe, wrapped in scraps of yellowing paper and old dust sheets, was a large brassbound chest. It went by the name of the Luggage. Why it consented to be owned by Rincewind was something only the Luggage knew, and it wasn't telling, but probably no other item in the entire chronicle of travel accessories had quite such a history of mystery and grievous bodily harm. It had been described as half suitcase, half homicidal maniac. It had many unusual qualitie furniture, but it was home.Against one shadowy wall was a wardrobe. It wasn't one of your modern wardrobes, fit only for nervous adulterers to jump into when the husband returned home early, but an ancient oak affair, dark as night, in whose dusty depths coat-hangers lurked and bred; herds of flaking shoes roamed its floor. It was quite possible that it was a secret doorway to fabulous worlds, but no-one had ever tried to find out because of the distressing smell of mothballs.s

Thomas Kinkade Sweetheart Cottage II

2009-04-07T00:57:00.000-07:00

Thomas Kinkade Sweetheart Cottage IIThomas Kinkade Sunrise ChapelThomas Kinkade Streams of Living Water
FOLK DANCING? said Death, wearily.
‘No. We have some pride, you know.’
SORRY.
‘. His voice faltered a bit as he tried to analyse the situation.
‘You’re looking very . . . sparkly . . . tonight, Miss Flitworth,’ he finished, gallantly.
The air smelled of warm, damp grass. An amateur orchestra was still setting up under an awning.
There were trestle tables covered with the kind of food that’s normally associated with the word “repast” - pork pies like varnished military fortifications, vats of demonical pickled onions, jacket potatoes wallowing in a cholesterol ocean of melted butter. Some of the local elders had already established themselves on the benches provided, and were chewing stoically if toothlessly through the food withHey, it’s Bill Door, isn’t it?’ said a figure looming out of the dusk.‘It’s good old Bill!’‘Hey, Bill!’Death looked at a circle of guileless faces.HALLO. MY FRIENDS.‘We heard you’d gone away,’ said Duke Bottomley. He glanced at Miss Flitworth, as Death helped her down from the horse

Sandro Botticelli Pallas and the Centaur

2009-04-06T00:29:00.000-07:00

Sandro Botticelli Pallas and the CentaurSandro Botticelli Madonna in Glory with SeraphimJean Beraud La Rue de la Paix 1907
Windle patted her on the shoulder.
‘Goodout a couple of handfuls of soil, and unearthed his diary. Twenty days to next full moon. Still, it’d be something to look forward to.
The metal debris of the heap started to collapse. Trolleys whirred around it, and a large crowd of Ankh-Morpork’s citizens were standing in a big circle, trying to peer inside. The unmusical music filled the ??? ‘There’s Mr Dibbler,’ said Ludmilla, as they pushed their way through the unresisting people.
‘What’s he selling this time?’ point. Good point,’ was all he could think of to say.‘You know, don’t you,’ she said, without looking up.‘Yes. I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of, if that’s any help.’Mother said it would be dreadful if anyone ever found out!’‘That probably depends on who it is,’ said Windle, glancing at Lupine.‘Why is your dog staring at me like that?’ said Ludmilla.‘He’s very intelligent,’ said Windle.Windle felt in his pocket, tipped

Caravaggio Judith Beheading Holofernes

2009-04-03T00:42:00.000-07:00

Caravaggio Judith Beheading HolofernesCaravaggio Amor Vincit OmniaPierre-Auguste Cot Le Printemps
We’ll prepare them when we get there,’ said the Archchancellor through gritted teeth.’Bursar! Your boots! Now!’
They reached the double doors of the Great Hall just as the door behind them half-collapsed, half-dissolved. The Great Hall’s doors were much sturdier.
Bolts and bars were dragged into place.
‘Clear the tables and pile them up in front of the door,’ snapped Ridcully ‘But it eats through wood, ‘ said the Dean.the hall. ‘I hope it doesn’t eat too much wood,’ said the dazed Modo, radiating genuine concern.’They’re a devil, excuse my Klatchian, if you get too much carbon in them. It’s far too heating.’
‘You know, this is exactly the right time for a lecture on the dynamics of compost making, Modo, ‘ said the Dean.
Dwarfs do not know the meaning of the word “irony”.There was a moan from the small body of Modo, which had been propped against a chair. He opened his eyes. ‘Quick!’ said Ridcully. ‘How can we kill a compost heap?’‘Um. I don’t think you can, Mr Ridcully, sir,’ said the gardener.‘How about fire? I could probably manage a small fireball, ‘ said the Dean.‘It wouldn’t work. Too soggy,’ said Ridcully.‘It’s right outside! It’s eating away at the door! It’s eating away at the door,’ sang the Lecturer in Recent Runes.The wizards backed further away down the length of

Sandro Botticelli Venus and Mars

2009-04-02T00:35:00.000-07:00

Sandro Botticelli Venus and MarsJean Beraud La Rue de la PaixHenri Rousseau The Snake Charmer
trousers have been too often awash with whitewash, whose nerves would disintegrate completely at the sound of just one more whoopee-cushion. The other Guild leaders tried to be nice to him, in the same way that people try to be ‘Hohoho, ‘ said the leader of the Assassins’ Guild. ‘Hohoho,’ said the head Alchemist. ‘And, you know, what makes it even funnier is that it was actually an alembic.’
‘So what you’re telling me,’ said the Patrician, as considerate hands led the Fool away, ‘is that none of you are responsible for these events?’ He gave Ridcully a meaningful look as he spoke.
The Archchancellor was about to answer when his eye was caught by a movement on the Patrician’s kind to other people who are standing on the ledges of very high buildings.‘What do you mean, Geoffrey?’ said Ridcully, as kindly as he could. The Fool gulped. ‘Well, you see,’ he mumbled, ‘we have sharp as in splinters, and retort as in large glass alchemical vessel, ~~d thus we get a pun on “sharp retort” which also means, well, a scathing answer. Sharp retort. You see? It’s a play on words. Um. It’s not very good, is it.’ The Archchancellor looked into eyes like two runny eggs. ‘Oh, apun,’ he said.’Of course. Hohoho.’ He waved a hand encouragingly at the others.‘Hohoho, ‘ said the Chief Priest.

William Bouguereau Yvonne

2009-04-01T00:18:00.001-07:00

William Bouguereau YvonneWilliam Bouguereau Le JourWilliam Bouguereau DawnWilliam Bouguereau Dante and Virgil in HellBill Brauer Scarlet Dancer
Albert flapped the polishing cloth and pulled back Death’s cowl.
ALBERT.
Death pulled out the tiny golden timer.
DO YOU SEE THIS?
‘Yes, sir. Very nice. Never seen one like that before. Whose is it?’
MINE.
Albert’s eyes swivelled sideways. On one corner of Death’s desk was a large timer in a black frame. It contained no sand. ‘I thought that one was yours, sir?’ he said.
IT WAS. NOW THIS IS. A RETIREMENT PRESENT. FROM AZRAEL
HIMSELF.
Albert ‘But you’re Death, master,’ said Albert, running crab-legged after the tall figure as it led the way out into the hall and down the passage to the stable. ‘This isn’t some sort of joke, is it?’ he added hopefully.
I AM NOT KNOWN FOR MY SENSE OF FUN.
‘Well, of course not, no offense meant. But listen, you can’t die. because you’re Death, you’d have to happen to yourself, it’d be like that snake that peered at the thing in Death’s hand.‘But . . . the sand, sir. It’s pouring.’QUITE SO.‘But that means . . . I mean . . . ?’IT MEANS THAT ONE DAY THE SAND WILL ALL BE POURED, ALBERT. ‘I know that, sir, but . . . you . . . I thought Time was something that happened to other people, sir. Doesn’t it? Not to you, sir.’ By the end of the sentence Albert’s voice was beseeching.Death pulled off the towel and stood up.COME WITH ME.

Tamara de Lempicka Two Girls

2009-03-31T00:32:00.000-07:00

Tamara de Lempicka Two GirlsTamara de Lempicka The Musician in BlueTamara de Lempicka Reclining NudeTamara de Lempicka Portrait of MadameTamara de Lempicka Kizette on the Balcony
They watched him politely and expectantly, like people awaiting the punch line.
‘Good grief, do I have to spell it out?’ he said.
‘He means sexual magnetism,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, happily. ‘The lure of wanton soft bosoms and huge ‘I was saying’, he said loudly, ‘that we didn’t know the meaning of the word "sex" when we were young.’
‘That’s true. That’s very true,’ said Poons. He stared reflectively at the flames. ‘Did we ever, mm, find out, do you remember?’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘Say what you like, she’s a fine figure of a young womanpulsating thighs, and the forbidden fruits of desire which‑‘A couple of wizards carefully moved their chairs away from him.‘Ah, sex,’ said the Dean of Pentacles, interrupting the Lecturer in Recent Runes in mid‑sigh. ‘Far too much of it these days, in my opinion.’‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. He looked wistful.The noise woke up Windle Poons, who had been dozing in his wheelchair by the fire. There was always a roaring fire in the Uncommon Room, summer or winter.‘Wassat?’ he said.The Dean leaned towards an ear.

Thomas Moran Cliffs of Green River

2009-03-30T00:15:00.001-07:00

Thomas Moran Cliffs of Green RiverThomas Moran Autumn LandscapeThomas Moran Chicago World's FairThomas Moran A View of VeniceHerbert James Draper Prospero Summoning Nymphs and Deities
, people,’ said Soll. ‘This is the scene near the end where Victor meets Ginger after all they’ve been through together, and on the card he’ll be saying‑‘ He stared at the big black oblong handed to him. ‘Yes, he’ll be saying "Frankly, my dear, I’d give anything for one of . . . Harga’s . . . prime . . . pork . . . ribs . . . in . . . special . . . curry . . . sauce. . . " ‘
Soll’s voice Royalist soldier’s last words are "What I wouldn’t give right now for a $1 Eat‑Till‑It‑Hurts special at . . . Harga’s . . . House . . . of . . . Ribs . . . Mother!" ‘
‘I think it’s very moving,’ said Dibbler, behind him. ‘There won’t be a dry eye in the slowed and stopped. When he breathed in, it was like a whale surfacing.‘Who wrote THIS?’One of the artists cautiously raised a hand.‘Mr Dibbler told me to,’ he said quickly.Soll leafed through the big heap of cards that represented the dialogue for a large part of the click. His lips tightened. He nodded to one of the people with clipboards and said, ‘Could you just run ever to the office and ask my uncle to stroll over here, if he’s got a moment?’Soll pulled a card out of the stack and read, ‘ "I sure miss the old mine but for a taste of real country cooking I always . . . go . . . to . . .Harp’s . . .House . . . Of . . ." I see.’He selected another at random. ‘Ah. I see here a wounded

Peter Paul Rubens Virgin and Child

2009-03-27T00:21:00.000-07:00

Peter Paul Rubens Virgin and ChildPeter Paul Rubens Rape of the Daughters of LeucippusPeter Paul Rubens Garden of LoveWinslow Homer The Herring NetWinslow Homer The Fog Warning
Well, it’d be dreadful if they were crooks and professional.’
Gaspode nodded. Nice one. Nice one.
There was the sound of footsteps hurrying around a desk. When Dibbler spoke next, you could have sunk a well in his voice and sold it at ten dollars a barrel.
‘Victor! Vic‘How much was it?’
‘Sixty dollars.’
‘For a dog? We’re in the wrong business.’
‘It can do all kinds of tricks, the breeder said. Bright as a button, he said. Just ! Haven’t I been like an uncle to you?’ Well, yes, thought Gaspode. He’s like an uncle to most people here. That’s because they’re his nephews. He stopped listening, partly because Victor was going to get his day off and was very likely going to get paid for it as well, but mainly because another dog had been led into the room. It was huge and glossy. Its coat shone like honey. Gaspode recognized it as pure-bred Ramtop hunting dog. When it sat down beside him, it was as if a beautifully sleek racing yacht had slipped into a berth alongside a coal barge. He heard Soll say, ‘So that is Uncle’s latest idea, is it? What’s it called?’ ‘Laddie,’ said the handler.

George Frederick Watts Watts Choosing

2009-03-26T00:35:00.000-07:00

George Frederick Watts Watts ChoosingFrancisco de Zurbaran Rest on the flight to EgyptClaude Lorrain Seaport with the Embarkation of the Queen of ShebaFrancisco de Zurbaran The Immaculate ConceptionArthur Hughes La Belle Dame Sans Merci
looked like a large, ornate pot, almost as high as a man of large pot height. Around its rim eight pottery elephants hung from little bronze chains; one of them swung backwards and forwards at the Bursar’s touch.
The see-’
‘She hwas dusting,’ said Mrs Whitlow, helpfully. When Mrs Whitlow was in the grip of acute class consciousness she could create aitches where nature never intended them to be.
‘–and then it started me’king a noise–’
‘Hit made hay hnoise,’ said Mrs Whitlow. ‘So she come and told me, your lordship, h’as hper my instructions.’ Archchancellor peered down inside. ‘It’s all levers and bellows,’ he said, distastefully. The Bursar turned to the University housekeeper. ‘Well, now, Mrs Whitlow,’ he said, ‘what exactly happened?’ Mrs Whitlow, huge, pink and becorseted, patted her ginger wig and nudged the tiny maid who was hovering beside her like a tugboat. ‘Tell his lordship, Ksandra,’ she ordered. Ksandra looked as though she was regretting the whole thing. ‘Well, sir, please, sir, I was dusting, you

Jean Beraud La Rue de la Paix 1907

2009-03-25T20:56:00.000-07:00

Jean Beraud La Rue de la Paix 1907Unknown Artist tango dancersUnknown Artist sweet breathUnknown Artist red backgroundUnknown Artist flower carrier
An accident in the Library, yes. Magical explosion. One minute a human, next minute an orang-utan. And you mustn’t call him a monkey, Master. He’s an ape.’
‘Same damn difference, surely?’
‘Apparently him.’
‘Good grief, no! He’s the best Librarian we’ve ever had. And tremendous value for money.’
‘Why? What d’we pay him?’
‘Peanuts,’ said the Bursar promptly. ‘Besides, he’s the only one who knows how the Library actually works.’
‘Turn him back, then. No life for a man, bein’ a monkey.’ not. He gets very, er, aggressive if you call him a monkey.’ ‘He doesn’t stick his bottom at people, does he?’ The Bursar closed his eyes and shuddered. ‘No, Master. You’re thinking of baboons.’ ‘Ah.’ The Archchancellor considered this. ‘Haven’t got any of them workin’ here, then?’ ‘No, Master. Just the Librarian, Master.’ ‘Can’t have it. Can’t have it, yer know. Can’t have damn great hairy things shambling around the place,’ said the Archchancellor firmly. ‘Get rid of

Henri Matisse Odalisques

2009-03-23T00:58:00.000-07:00

Henri Matisse OdalisquesHenri Matisse OdalisqueHenri Matisse MusicHenri Matisse Le bonheur de vivreGeorges Seurat The Circus
threateningly over the palace and whirred off towards the mountains.
Koomi mopped his forehead.
'Bit of a close shave there,' he said. His colleagues nodded, staring at the fading ripples. Suddenly, Djeibeybi was no place , as the sacred crocodiles homed in like submarines.
Koomi raised his hands, imploring. It is said that the hour brings forth the man. He was the kind of man that is brought forth by devious and unpleasant hours, and underneath his bald head certain conclusions were beginning to unfold, like things imprisoned for years inside stones. He wasn't yet sure what they were, but they were broadly on the subject of gods, the new age, the need for a firm hand on the helm, and possibly for honest doubt. Honest doubt could get you seriously picked up and your arms and legs torn off. 'Er,.' said one of them. 'Cephut's going to be a bit upset, though, isn't he?' 'All hail Cephut,' they chorused. Just in case. 'Don't see why,' grumbled an elderly priest at the back of the crowd. 'Bloody knife and fork artist.' They grabbed him, still protesting, and hurled him into the river. 'All hail-' They paused. 'Who was he high priest of, anyway?' 'Bunu, the Goat-headed God of Goats? Wasn't he?' 'All hail Bunu, probably,' they chorused

Jack Vettriano The Cocktail Shaker

2009-03-20T01:37:00.000-07:00

Jack Vettriano The Cocktail ShakerJack Vettriano The City CafeJack Vettriano The Cigar DivanJack Vettriano The British Are ComingJack Vettriano The Blue Gown
. Perhaps we'd just better let him get it out of his system.'
King Teppicymon XXVII nodded gloomily, and went by himself to wave goodbye to his son. He was less certain than his could go to his rest satisfied that he had been annulled by someone of taste and discretion.
And, after all, what was there for him at home? A kingdom two miles wide and one hundred sister about the unpleasantness of assassination; he'd been reluctantly in politics for a long time, and felt that while assassination was probably worse than debate it was certainly better than war, which some people tended to think of as the same thing only louder. And there was no doubt that young Vyrt always had plenty of money, and used to turn up at the palace with expensive gifts, exotic suntans and thrilling tales of the interesting people he'd met in foreign parts, in most cases quite briefly. He wished Vyrt was around to advise. His majesty had also heard that only one student in fifteen actually became an assassin. He wasn't entirely certain what happened to the other fourteen, but he was pretty sure that if you were a poor student in a school for assassins they did a bit more than throw the chalk at you, and that the school dinners had an extra dimension of uncertainty. But everyone agreed that the assassins' school offered the best all-round education in the world. A qualified assassin should be at home in any company, and able to play at least one musical instrument. Anyone inhumed by a graduate of the Guild school

Frida Kahlo Two Nudes in the Forest

2009-03-18T23:17:00.000-07:00

Frida Kahlo Two Nudes in the ForestFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Thorn NecklaceFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Small MonkeyFrida Kahlo Portrait of Christina My SisterFrida Kahlo Fulang Chang and I
' she said grimly. 'Let's do the show right here.' Nanny squinted sullenly after Hwel. 'Break your own leg,' she muttered.
Hwel stood in the wings and gave the signal for the curtains. And for the thunder.
It didn't come.
'Thunder!' he hissed, in a voice heard by half the audience. 'Get on with it!'
A voice like a bell.
Hwel looked up at the sky. Great black clouds were blowing across the castle, blotting out the stars.
The storm was back.
It had spent ages learning its craft. It had spent years lurking in distant valleys. It from behind the nearest pillar wailed, 'I went and bent the thunder, Hwel! It just goes clonk-clonk!'Hwel stood silent for a moment, counting. The company watched him, awestruck but not, unfortunately, thunderstruck.At last he raised his fists to the open sky and said, 'I wanted a storm! Just a storm. Not even a big storm. Any storm. Now I want to make myself absolutely CLEAR! I have had ENOUGH! I want thunder right NOW!'The stab of lightning that answered him turned the multi-hued shadows of the castle into blinding white and searing black. It was followed by a roll of thunder, on cue.It was the loudest noise Hwel had ever heard. It seemed to start inside his head and work its way outwards.It went on and on, shaking every stone in the castle. Dust rained down. A distant turret broke away with balletic slowness and, tumbling end over end, dropped gently into the hungry depths of the gorge.When it finished it left a silence that rang

Leroy Neiman Elephant Nocturne

2009-03-17T22:19:00.000-07:00

Leroy Neiman Elephant NocturneLeroy Neiman Elephant FamilyLeroy Neiman Churchill DownsLeroy Neiman Chicago Key Club BarLeroy Neiman Chicago Board of Trade
my shawl back there. I'm a bit chilly. Look, we're nearly there.'
Granny glared ahead, her mind a maze of suspicions. She was going to get to the bottom of this. When she had time.
The damp logs of Lancre's main link to the outside world drifted gently underneath them. From the chicken farm half a mile away came a chorus of strangled squawks and a thud.
'And that? What was that, then?' demanded Granny.
'Fowl pest. Careful, I'm bringing us down.'
'Are you laughing at me?'
'Just pleased for you, Esme. You'll go down in history for this, you know.'
They drifted between the timbers of the bridge. Granny Weatherwax alighted cautiously on the greasy planking and adjusted her dress.
'Yes. Welluse a calendar with lots of pages blowing off, or a clock with hands moving faster and faster until they blur, or trees bursting into blossom and fruiting in a matter of seconds . . .
Well, you know. Or the sun becomes a fiery streak across the sky, and days and nights flicker past jerkily like a bad zoetrope, and the fashions visible in the clothes shop across the road whip on and off faster ,' she added, nonchalantly.'Better than Black Aliss, everyone'll say,' Nanny Ogg went on.'Some people will say anything,' said Granny. She peered over the parapet at the foaming torrent far below, and then up at the distant outcrop on which stood Lancre Castle.'Do you think they will?' she added, nonchalantly.'Mark my words.''Hmm.''But you've got to complete the spell, mind.'Granny Weatherwax nodded. She turned to face the dawn, raised her arms, and completed the spell. It is almost impossible to convey the sudden passage of fifteen years and two months in words.It's a lot easier in pictures, when you just

Titian Emperor Charles

2009-03-16T23:12:00.000-07:00

Titian Emperor CharlesBartolome Esteban Murillo The Little Fruit SellerFilippino Lippi The Marriage of St CatherineFilippino Lippi AllegoryBartolome Esteban Murillo A Girl and her Duenna
several sizes too big for him. Lancre is a poor kingdom, and over the centuries the chain mail of the palace guards has had to be handed down from one generation to another, often on the end of a long stick. This one made him look like a bulletproof bloodhound.
She stepped and our—'
'Wait a moment.'
'Oh, Mss Magrat, suppose they try to torture her? You know what a tongue she's got on her when she gets angry—'
'I'm thinking,' said Magrat.out in front of him.'Is that you, Mss Magrat?' said Shawn, raising the flap of mail that covered his eyes. 'It's mam!''What's happened to her?''He's locked her up! Said she was coming to poison him! And I can't get down to the dungeons to see because there's all new guards! They say she's been put in chains—' Shawn frowned – 'and that means something horrible's going to happen. You know what she's like when she loses her temper. We'll never hear the last of it, miz.''Where were you going?' demanded Magrat.To fetch our Jason and our Wane and our Darron

Thomas Moran Entrance to the Grand Canal, Venice

2009-03-15T22:18:00.000-07:00

Thomas Moran Entrance to the Grand Canal, VeniceJean Francois Millet The Walk to WorkJean Francois Millet The AngelusJean Francois Millet AngelusJean Francois Millet Harvesters Resting
Lancre Castle was built on an outcrop of rock by an architect who had heard about Gormenghast but hadn't got the budget. He'd done his best, though, with a tiny confection of cut-price turrets, bargain basements, buttresses, crenellations, gargoyles, towers, courtyards, keeps and dungeons; in fact, just about everything a castle needs except maybe reasonable foundations and the kind of mortar that doesn't wash away in a light shower.He growled and stood up. 'There is a knocking without,' he said.
'Without what?' said the Fool.
'Without the door, idiot.'
The Fool gave him a worried look. 'A knocking without a door?' he said suspiciously. 'This isn't some kind of Zen, is it?'The castle leaned vertiginously over the racing white water of the Lancre river, which boomed darkly a thousand feet below. Every now and again a few bits fell in.Small as it was, though, the castle contained a thousand places to hide a crown.The duchess swept out to find someone else to berate, and left Lord Felmet looking gloomily at the landscape. It started to rain.It was on this cue that there came a thunderous knocking at the castle door. It seriously disturbed the castle porter, who was playing Cripple Mister Onion with the castle cook and the castle's Fool in the warmth of the kitchen.

Juan Gris Guitar and Music Pape

2009-03-13T01:27:00.000-07:00

Juan Gris Guitar and Music PapeJuan Gris Fantomas Pipe and NewspaperGeorge Bellows The Picnic
much for prediction, he thought. And if they thought so much of him they could at least have hired a decent sculptor. It was disgraceful. The nose was all wrong. Call that a leg? People had been carving their names on it, too. He start.
There was the pedestal, empty. There was a cloud of marble dust over everything. And striding out of it, muttering to himself, was Albert.
The wizards at the back of the crowd started to have it away as quickly and quietly as possible. There wasn't one of them that hadn't, at some time in his jolly youth, put a common bedroom utensil on old Albert's wouldn't be seen dead in a hat like that, either. Of course, if he could help it, he wouldn't be seen dead at all.Albert aimed an octarine thunderbolt at the ghastly thing and grinned evilly as it exploded into dust.'Right,' he said to the Disc at large, 'I'm back.' The tingle from the magic coursed all the way up his arm and started a warm glow in his mind. How he'd missed it, all these years.Wizards came hurrying through the big double doors at the sound of the explosion and cleared the wrong conclusion from a standing

Diego Rivera Night of the Rich

2009-03-11T20:11:00.001-07:00

Diego Rivera Night of the RichLeroy Neiman FemlinUnknown Artist Abstract Autumn by Dougall
walked across it. It was hard to drown in the Ankh, but easy to suffocate.
Mort , which he waved in little circles in the air. He advanced slowly towards Mort, while the other two hung back to provide immoral support.
'Give us the money,' he rasped.
Mort's hand went to the bag on his belt.
'Hang on a minute,' he said. 'What happens then?'
'What?'looked at the surface doubtfully. It seemed to be moving. There were bubbles in it. It had to be water.He sighed, and turned away.Three men had appeared behind him, as though extruded from the stonework. They had the heavy, stolid look of those thugs whose appearance in any narrative means that it's time for the hero to be menaced a bit, although not too much, because it's also obvious that they're going to be horribly surprised.They were leering. They were good at it.One of them had drawn a knife

Vincent van Gogh field of poppies

2009-03-10T23:56:00.000-07:00

Vincent van Gogh field of poppiesHenri Matisse GoldfishMichael Austin Red Dress
What on?"
Cutangle groped for a subject.
"Herbs?" he hazarded. "We're not very good on herbs here. And headology. Esk told me a lot about headology. It sounds fascinating."
The sugar lump disappeared through a crack in a nearby wall with a final jerk. Cutangle nodded towards it.
"They're very heavy on the sugar," he said, "but we haven't got the heart to do anything about it."
Granny frowned, and then nodded across the haze over the city to the distant glitter of the snow on the Ramtops.
"It's a long way," she said. "I can't be keeping on going
"We could buy you a much better broomstick," said Cutangle. "One you don't have to bump start. And you, you could have a flat here. And all the old clothes you can carry," he added, using the secret weapon. He had wisely invested intiles needed fixing.
"Practical things?" she said, thoughtfully.
"Absolutely," said Cutangle.
"Mmph. Well, I'll think about it," said Granny, dimly aware that one should never go too far on a first date.
"Perhaps you would care to dine with me this evening and let me know?" said some conversation with Mrs Whitlow. "Mmph," said Granny, "Silk?" "Black and red," said Cutangle. An image of Granny in black and red silk trotted across his mind, and he bit heavily into his scone. "And maybe we can bring some students out to your cottage in the summer," Cutangle went on, "for extra-mural studies." "Who's Extra Muriel?" "I mean, there's lots they can learn, I'm sure." Granny considered this. Certainly the privy needed a good seeing-to before the weather got too warm, and the goat shed was ripe for the mucking-out by spring. Digging over the Herb bed was a chore, too. The bedroom ceiling was a disgrace, and some of the

Pierre-Auguste Cot Le Printemps

2009-03-09T23:04:00.000-07:00

Pierre-Auguste Cot Le PrintempsGeorge Frederick Watts CharityFrancisco de Goya Nude Maja
At the far end of the hall she could see the most senior wizards at their high table, which in fact bobbed a few feet off the floor. They were staring.
A medium-and find me an important wizard, please. Quickly."
Esk tapped her on the back. A couple of wizards with a rather greater presence of mind had nipped smartly out of the door behind them, and now several their lodge, but now she felt a pang of sympathy for them.
Two of them reached out hairy hands and grabbed Granny's shoulders. Her arm disappeared behind her back and there was a brief flurry of movement that ended with the men hopping away, clutching grade wizard - Esk recognised him as a lecturer in Applied Astrology - rushed towards them, waving his hands. "Nononono," he shouted. "Wrong door. You must go away." "Don't mind me," said Granny calmly, pushing past him. "Nonono, it's against the lore, you must go away now. Ladies are not allowed in here!" "I'm not a lady, I'm a witch," said Granny. She turned to Esk. "Is he very important?" "I don't think so," said Esk. "Right." Granny turned to the lecturer: "Go

Edward Hopper Hotel Room

2009-03-09T01:19:00.000-07:00

Edward Hopper Hotel RoomEdward Hopper Hotel LobbyEdward Hopper Girlie Show
And you know where it is?"
"Yes," lied Granny, whose grasp of geography was slightly worse than her knowledge of sub-atomic physics.
Smith looked from her to his daughter, who was sulking.
"And witch further along the hills, who had also promised to keep an Eye on the cottage. Bad Ass would just have to manage without a witch for a while.
Granny was vaguely aware that you didn't find the Unseen University unless it wanted you to, and the only place to start looking was the town of Ohulan Cutash, a sprawl of a hundred or so houses about fifteen miles away. It was where you went to once or twice a year if you were a really cosmopolitan Bad Assian: Granny had only been once before in her entire and hadn't approved of it at all. It had smelt all wrong, she'd got lost, and she distrusted city folk with their flashy ways.
They got a lift on the cart that came out periodically with metal for the smithy. It was gritty, but better

Franz Marc Zwei Katzen

2009-03-05T23:26:00.000-08:00

Franz Marc Zwei KatzenFranz Marc yellow cowFranz Marc Tiger
wizard would sigh, pick it up, and continue his squelchy progress.
The storm walked around the hills on legs of lightning, shouting and grumbling.
The wizardincredibly ordinary place where something extraordinary started to happen. Often there is no more than a little plaque to reveal that, against all ecological probability, someone very famous was born halfway up a wall.
Mist curled between the houses as the wizard crossed a narrow bridge over the swollen stream and made his way to the village smithy, although the two facts had nothing to do with one another. The mist would have curled anyway: it was experienced mist and had got curling down to a fine art. disappeared around the bend in the track and the goats went back to their damp grazing. Until something else caused them to look up. They stiffened, their eyes widening, their nostrils flaring. This was strange, because there was nothing on the path. But the goats still watched it pass by until it was out of sight. There was a village tucked in a narrow valley between steep woods. It wasn't a large village, and wouldn't have shown up on a map of the mountains. It barely showed up on a map of the village. It was, in fact, one of those places that exist merely so that people can have come from them. The universe is littered with them: hidden villages, windswept little towns under wide skies, isolated cabins on chilly mountains, whose only mark on history is to be the

Andy Warhol Diamond Dust Shoes Lilac Blue Green

2009-03-04T23:57:00.000-08:00

Andy Warhol Diamond Dust Shoes Lilac Blue GreenAndy Warhol Daisy Double PinkAndy Warhol ButtonsAndy Warhol Basket of Flowers
One of the star people, a woman, pushed her hair out of her eyes with a soot-blackened hand, gazed intently t Cohen's left ear, and said, 'Ridding the disc of wickedness.'
Two menhe said to one of the star men, who had gripped his arm.
'All books of magic must be burned,' said the man, but a little uncertainly, because something about Cohen's teeth was giving him a nasty feeling of sanity.
'Why?' said Cohen.
'It has been revealed to us.' Now Cohen's smile was as wide as all outdoors, and rather more dangerous.
'I think we ought to be getting along,' said Lackjaw nervously. A party of star people had turned into the street behind them. came out of the building and glared at Cohen, or at least at his ear.Cohen reached out and took the heavy book the woman was carrying. Its cover was crusted with strange red and black stones that spelled out what Cohen was sure was a word. He showed it to Lackjaw.'The Necrotelecomnicon,' said the dwarf. 'Wizards use it. It's how to contact the dead, I think.''That's wizards for you,' said Cohen. He felt a page between finger and thumb; it was thin, and quite soft. The rather unpleasant organic-looking didn't worry him at all. Yes, a book like this could be a real friend to a man —'Yes? You want something?'

Paul Cezanne Leda with Swan

2009-03-03T21:53:00.000-08:00

Paul Cezanne Leda with SwanPaul Cezanne House and TreesPaul Cezanne A Modern OlympiaLaurie Maitland Autumn Song
'Yesh,' said Cohen, and sighed. Thatsh right, boy. I'm a in my own legend.'
'Gosh,' said Rincewind. 'How old are you, exactly?'
'Eighty-sheven.'
'But you were the greatest!' said Bethan. 'Bards still sing songs about you.'
Cohen shruggedyou have there, boy.'
Rincewind looked away, unable to look Bethan in the face. Then his heart sank. Twoflower was still leaning against the tree, peacefully unconscious, and looking as reproachful as was possible in the circumstances.
Cohen appeared to remember him, too. He got unsteadily to his feet and shuffled over to the tourist. He humbed both eyes open, examined the graze, felt the pulse.
'He'sh gone,' he said., and gave a little yelp of pain.'I never get any royaltiesh,' he said. He looked moodily at the snow. That'sh the shaga of my shoop. Shoop! I hate shoop!'Bethan's forehead wrinkled. 'Shoop?''Soup,' explained Rincewind.Yeah, shoop,' said Cohen, miserably. 'It'sh my teeths, you shee. No-one takes you sheriously when you've got no teeths, they shay "Shit down by the fire, grandad, and have sHome shoo—" Cohen looked sharply at Rincewind. That'sh a nashty cough

William Beard So You Wanna Get Married

2009-03-02T21:44:00.001-08:00

William Beard So You Wanna Get MarriedWilliam Beard Phantom CraneWilliam Beard OwlsWilliam Beard Majestic Stag
falling branch, and the whispering of the trees discussing religion and the trouble with squirrels. Rincewind began to feel very lonely. He imagined himself living in the woods forever, sleeping on leaves and eating . . . and eating . . . whatever there was to eat in woods. Trees, he supposed, and nuts and berries. He would have to . . .
'Rincewind!'
There, coming wet and cold rain. Rincewind and Twoflower sat under a tree and watched it.
'Rincewind?'
'Um?'
'Why are we here?'
'Well, some say that the Creator of the Universe made the Disc and everything on it, others say that its all a very complicated story involving the testicles of the Sky God and the milk of up the path, was Twoflower – dripping wet, but beaming with delight. The Luggage trotted along behind him (anything made of the wood would follow its owner anywhere and it was often used to make luggage for the grave goods of very rich dead kings who wanted to be sure of starting a new life in the next world with clean underwear).Rincewind sighed. Up to now, he'd thought the day couldn't possibly get worse. It began to rain a particularly

Thomas Kinkade The Edge of Wilderness

2009-03-01T22:35:00.000-08:00

Thomas Kinkade The Edge of WildernessThomas Kinkade St. Nicholas CircleThomas Kinkade Silent NightThomas Kinkade Julianne's cottage
Rincewind decided, it must be an amulet. The swarthy man backed into the corner.
"That was a very brave thing you did," said Amulet-holder to Rincewind. "You know that?
"What?"that Twoflower was wearing new clothes. Strange clothes. His britches now ended just above his knees. Above that he wore some sort of vest of brightly-striped material. On his head was a ridiculous little straw hat. With a feather in it.
An awkward feeling around the leg regions made Rincewind look down. His clothes had changed too. Instead of the comfortable old robe, so marvellously well-adapted for speed into action in all possible contingencies"What's the matter with your friend?""Friend?"Rincewind looked down at Twoflower, who was still slumbering peacefully. That was no surprise. What was really surprising was

Jack Vettriano Valentine Rose

2009-02-27T00:24:00.000-08:00

Jack Vettriano Valentine RoseJack Vettriano There's Always Someone Watching YouJack Vettriano The Twilight ZoneJack Vettriano The Parlour of Temptation
SOME people will accuse me of playing with fire. Next summer, I am due to marry Nic, my boyfriend of two and a half years. We have plenty in common, get on famously, and I have a strong desire to kiss him whenever I see him. ButThen I received a press release from a company called ScientificMatch, based in Florida, which offers to match couples according to scent-related aspects of their DNA profiles. By hooking you up with your biological match, rather than someone you just get along well with, the company promises a better sex life, more orgasms, a lower risk of cheating on each other, higher fertility and healthier children. Intrigued, I did some research and came across a similar company, GenePartne recent events have left a niggling doubt in my mind.It started with a recent paper I read. It suggested that taking hormonal contraceptives (as I have for many years) affects your sense of smell, which is a key factor in finding Mr Right (Proceedings of the Royal Society B, vol 275, p 2715).r

George Bellows Club Night

2009-02-26T19:55:00.000-08:00

George Bellows Club NightCaravaggio The Seven Acts of MercyCaravaggio The Lute PlayerCaravaggio The Inspiration of Saint Matthew
You?" said Hrun uncertainly.
"Ahaha. Yes," said Rincewind. "Hrun, isn't it? Long time no see. What brings you here?"
Hrun pointed to the luggage.
"That," he said. This much conversation seemed to exhaust Hrun. Then he added, in a tone that combined statement, claim, threat and ultimatum: "Mine."
"It belongs to Twoflower here," said Rincewind.
"Here's a tip. and we might all stand a chance of getting out of here alive. Or merely just dead."
"Who is he?" asked Twoflower. He was holding a cage in his hands, dredged from the bottom-most depths of the Luggage. It appeared to be full of sulking pink lizards.
"I am Hrun," said Hrun proudly. Then he looked at Rincewind.Don't touch it."It dawned on him that this was precisely the wrong thing to say, but Hrun had already pushed Twoflower away and was reaching for the Luggage... which sprouted legs, backed away, and raised its lid threateningly. In the uncertain light Rincewind thought he could see rows of enormous teeth, white as bleached beechwood."Hrun," he said quickly, "there's something I ought to tell you."Hrun turned a puzzled face to him."What?" he said."It's about numbers. Look, you know if you add seven and one, or three and five, or take two from ten. You get a number. While you're here don't say it
"What?" he said.

Pablo Picasso Studio with Plaster Head

2009-02-25T22:00:00.000-08:00

Pablo Picasso Studio with Plaster HeadPablo Picasso Les Demoiselles dAvignonPablo Picasso Le Moulin de la GalettePablo Picasso Crucifixion
darker shadow inched its way along one of the walls of the Drum, a few yards from the two trolls who were guarding the door. Rincewind was sweating. If they heard the faint clinking of the specially-prepared bags at his belt...
One of the trolls tapped his colleague on the shoulder, producing a noise like two pebbles being knocked together. He froze in mid-grope.
Then, for the third time, the door burst open. Two trolls hurried through it, slammed it behind them dropped the heavy bar across it and fled down the stairs.
Outside there was a sudden crescendo of running feet. And, for the last time, the door opened. In fact it exploded, the great wooden bar being hurled far across the room and the frame itself giving way. Door and frame landed on a table, which flew into splinters. It was then that the frozen fighters pointed down the starlit street...Rincewind darted from his hiding place, turned, and hurled his burden through the Drum's nearest window.Withel saw it arrive. The bag arced across the room, turning slowly in the air, and burst on the edge of a table. A moment later gold coins were rolling across the floor, spinning, glittering.The room was suddenly silent, save for the tiny noises of gold and the whimpers of the wounded. With a curse Withel despatched the assassin he had been fighting. "It's a trick!" he screamed. "No-one move!"Three score men and a dozen trolls

Claude Monet Custom Officer's Cabin at Varengville

2009-02-24T23:24:00.000-08:00

Claude Monet Custom Officer's Cabin at VarengvilleClaude Monet ChrysanthemumsClaude Monet Camille Monet in the GardenClaude Monet Blue Water Lilies
Fire roared through the bifurcated city of Ankh-Morpork. Where it licked the Wizards' Quarter it burned blue and green and was even laced with strange sparks of the eighth colour, octarine; where its outriders found their way into the vats and oil stores all along Merchants Street it progressed in a series of blazing fountains and like drowning fireflies towards the sea. In any case, sparks were riding the breeze and touching down far across the river in hidden and remote brickyards. The smoke from the merry burning rose miles high, in a wind-sculpted black column that could be seen across the whole of the Discworld. It was certainly impressive from the cool, dark hilltop a few leagues away, where two figures were watching with considerable interest.explosions; in the Streets of the perfume blenders it burned with a sweetness; where it touched bundles of rare and dry herbs in the storerooms of the drugmasters it made men go mad and talk to God.By now the whole of downtown Ankh-Morpork was alight, and the richer and worthier citizens of Ankh on the far bank were bravely responding to the situation by feverishly demolishing the bridges. But already the ships in the Morpork docks - laden with grain, cotton and timber, and coated with tar - were blazing merrily and, their moorings burnt to ashes, were breasting the river Ankh on the ebb tide, igniting riverside palaces and bowers as they drifted

Leonardo da Vinci da Vinci Self Portrait

2009-02-23T22:42:00.000-08:00

Leonardo da Vinci da Vinci Self PortraitRembrandt The Return of the Prodigal SonRembrandt rembrandt nightwatch paintingRaphael The Sistine Madonna
rifle banged, and then another, as the gyptians realized what was happening. But firing at targets you can't see is dangerous when you can't see your own side either. The Tartars, in a tight group now around the sledge, were able vision, ragged shadows, racing light-
A great swirl lifted curtains of snow aside, and into the cleared area leaped lorek Byrnison, with a clang and screech of iron on iron. A moment later and those great jaws snapped to blaze at will into the snow, but the gyptians dared not shoot back for fear of hitting Lyra.Oh, the bitterness she felt! The tiredness!Still dazed, with her head ringing, she hauled herself up to find Pantalaimon desperately fighting the monkey still, with wolverine jaws fastened tight on a golden arm, changing no more but grimly hanging on. And who was that?Not Roger?Yes, Roger, battering at Mrs. Coulter with fists and feet, hurtling his head against hers, only to be struck down by a Tartar who swiped at him like someone brushing away a fly. It was all a phantasmagoria now: white, black, a swift green flutter across her

Gustav Klimt The Fulfillment (detail I)

2009-02-22T22:52:00.001-08:00

Gustav Klimt The Fulfillment (detail I)Gustav Klimt The Embrace (detail_ square)Gustav Klimt Schloss Kammer Am Attersee IIGustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch (gold foil)
pocket of the anorak before shoving that through too.
She jumped the hideous cruelty of the intercision, she could cope with; she was strong enough; but the thought of that sweet face and gentle voice, the image of that golden playful monkey, was enough to melt her stomach and make her pale and nauseated.
But the gyptians were coming. Think of that. Think of lorek Byrnison. And don't give yourself away, she said, and drifted back toward the canteen, from where a lot of noise was coming.
Children were lining up to get hot drinks, some of them still in their coal-silk anoraks. Their talk was all of the zep-pelin and its passenger.down, pushed back the locker, and whispered to Pantalaimon, "We must just pretend to be stupid till she sees us, and then say we were kidnapped. And nothing about the gyptians or lorek Byrnison especially."Because Lyra now realized, if she hadn't done so before, that all the fear in her nature was drawn to Mrs. Coulter as a compass needle is drawn to the Pole. All the other thingsshe'd seen, and even

Salvador Dali Galatea of the Spheres

2009-02-20T22:09:00.000-08:00

Salvador Dali Galatea of the SpheresSalvador Dali GalarinaSalvador Dali Figure at a Window ISalvador Dali Corpus Hypercubus
marmot, and trying to look as if she was on the verge of tears.
"With your father? I see. And what's he doing in this part of the world?"
"Trading. We come with a load of New Danish smokeleaf and we was buying furs."
"And was your father by himself?"
"No. There was my uncles and all, and some other men," she said vaguely, not knowing what the Samoyed hunter had "They never found me," she said doubtfully. "There was a fight. There was lots of 'em and they had arrows...."
"Oh, I don't think so. I think you must have wandered away from your father's party and got lost. Those huntsmen found you on your own and brought you straight here. That's what happened, Lizzie."
"I saw a fight," she said. "They was shooting arrows and that....I want my dad," she told him."Why did he bring you on a journey like this, Lizzie?"" 'Cause two years ago he brung my brother and he says he'll bring me next, only he never. So I kept asking him, and then he did.""And how old are you?""Eleven.""Good, good. Well, Lizzie, you're a lucky little girl. Those huntsmen who found you brought you to the best place you could be."

Camille Pissarro Still Life with Apples and Pitcher

2009-02-19T22:52:00.000-08:00

Camille Pissarro Still Life with Apples and PitcherWinslow Homer The Houses of ParliamentWinslow Homer Children on the Beach
She felt angry and miserable. His badger claws dug into the earth and he walked forward. It was such a strange tormenting feeling when your daemon was pulling at the link between you; part physical pain deep in the chest, part intense sadness and love. And she knew it was the same for him. Everyone tested it when they were growing up: gate, scrambling over the icy mud toward him, and he turned into a wildcat and sprang up into her arms, and they were clinging together tightly with little shaky from them both.
"I thought you really would-"
"No-"
"I couldn't believe how much it hurt-"seeing how far they could pull apart, coming back with intense relief.He tugged a little harder."Don't, Pan!"But he didn't stop. The bear watched, motionless. The pain in Lyra's heart grew more and more unbearable, and a sob of longing rose in her throat."Pan-"Then she was through the

Leroy Neiman Ryder Cup

2009-02-18T22:40:00.000-08:00

Leroy Neiman Ryder CupUnknown Artist Mary Magdalene in the DesertLeroy Neiman World Class Skier
you talked to me, Farder Coram, and I lost it. See, it's just floating any old where."
"Yes, I see that. I'm sorry, Lyra. You tired now? D'you want to stop?"
"No, I don't," she said, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. She had all the signs of fretful overexcitement, and, rusty and cobwebbed with pipework, beside a refinery where a thick smear of smoke ascended reluctantly to join the clouds.
"Where are we?" said Lyra. "Can I go outside just for a bit, Farder Coram?"
"This is Colby water," he said. "The estuary of the river Cole. When we reach the town, we'll tie up by the Smoke-market and go on foot to the docks. We'll be it was made worse by her long confinement in this stuffy cabin.He looked out of the window. It was nearly dark, and they were traveling along the last stretch of inland water before reaching the coast. Wide brown scummed expanses of an estuary extended under a dreary sky to a distant group of coal-spirit tanks

Vincent van Gogh The Plain at Auvers

2009-02-18T00:10:00.000-08:00

Vincent van Gogh The Plain at AuversVincent van Gogh The Night Cafe in the Place Lamartine in ArlesVincent van Gogh The good Samaritan Delacroix
Lord Asriel, no less. For them as has forgotten, it were Lord Asriel who interceded with the Turk for the of Sam Broekman. It were Lord Asriel who allowed gyptian boats free passage on the canals through his ? Stand up and answer, man."
But Raymond van Gerrit had sunk to his seat, and nothing would make him stand. A low hiss of disapproval sounded through the great hall, and Lyra felt the shame he must be feeling, as well as a deep glow of pride in her brave father.
John Faa turned away, and looked at the other men on the platform.property. It were Lord Asriel who defeated the Watercourse Bill in Parliament, to our great and lasting benefit. And it were Lord Asriel who fought day and night in the floods of '53, and plunged headlong in the water twice to pull out young Ruud and Nellie Koopman. You forgotten that? Shame, shame on you, shame."And now that same Lord Asriel is held in the farthest coldest darkest regions of the wild, captive, in the fortress of Svalbard. Do I need to tell you the kind of creatures a guarding him there? And this is his little daughter in our care, and Raymond van Gerrit would hand her over to the authorities for a bit of peace and quiet. Is that right, Raymond

Franz Marc Blaues Pferdchen

2009-02-16T23:25:00.000-08:00

Franz Marc Blaues PferdchenMarc Chagall The Fall of IcarusMarc Chagall The Birthday
of the coal-silk bags from the shop they'd visited that very afternoon. Mrs. Coulter had given her money like sweets, and although she had spent it lavishly, there were still several sovereigns left, which she put in the pocket of the dark wolfskin coat before tiptoeing to the door.
Last of all she packed the alethiometer in its black velvet cloth. Had that abominable monkey found it? He must She slipped through the door and into the hall, and in less than three seconds she was opening the front door of the flat. A moment after that she was through and pulling it quietly shut, and with Pantalaimon a goldfinch again, she ran for the stairs and fled.
have done; he must have told her; oh, if she'd only hidden it better!She tiptoed to the door. Her room opened into the end of the corridor nearest the hall, luckily, and most of the guests were in the two big rooms further along. There was the sound of voices talking loudly, laughter, the quiet flushing of a lavatory, the tinkle of glasses; and then a tiny moth voice at her ear said:"Now! Quick!"

George Frederick Watts Watts Choosing

2009-02-15T19:38:00.001-08:00

George Frederick Watts Watts ChoosingFrancisco de Zurbaran Rest on the flight to EgyptClaude Lorrain Seaport with the Embarkation of the Queen of Sheba
no," protested the Librarian. "But I wish you had told me more.
The Master was silent for a while before saying, "Yes, perhaps I should have done. The alethiometer warns of appalling consequences if Lord Asriel pursues this research. Apart from anything else, the child will be drawn in, and I want Between them both, Charles, I tremble."
The Librarian was silent in his turn. Ever since Pope John Calvin had moved the seat of the Papacy to Geneva and set up the Consistorial Court of Discipline, the Church's power over every aspect of been absolute. The Papacy itself had been abolished after Calvin's death, and a tangle of courts, colleges, and councils, collectively known as the Magisteriumto keep her safe as long as possible.""Is Lord Asriel's anything to do with this new initiative of the Consistorial Court of Discipline? The what-do-they-call-it: the Oblation Board?""Lord Asriel-no, no. Quite the reverse. The Oblation Board isn't entirely answerable to the Consistorial Court, either. It's a semiprivate initiative; it's being run by someonewho has no love of Lord Asriel.

Claude Monet Vase Of Flowers

2009-02-12T23:49:00.001-08:00

Claude Monet Vase Of FlowersClaude Monet The women in the GardenClaude Monet The PicnicClaude Monet La Grenouillere
Lee, I couldn't abide to be anywhere away from you for a single second," she whispered back.
"You think the witch will come?"
"Sure she away down the slope.
Another long silence. The pain nearby was losing its fear of him. It was like a pack of jackals, circling, sniffing, treading closer, and he knew they wouldn't leave him now till they'd eaten him bare.
"There's one man left," Hester muttered. "He's a-making for the zeppelin."
And Lee saw him mistily, one soldier of the Imperial Guard creeping away from his company's defeat.will. We should have called her before.""We should have done a lot of things.""Maybe so…"Another crack, and this time the bullet went deep somewhere inside, seeking out the center ofthought: It won't find it there. Hester's my center. And he saw a blue flicker down below, and strained to bring the barrel over to it."He's the one," Hester breathed.Lee found it hard to pull the trigger. Everything was hard. He had to try three times, and finally he got it. The blue uniform tumbled

Rene Magritte Woman Bathing

2009-02-12T00:30:00.000-08:00

Rene Magritte Woman BathingRene Magritte The Voice of the WindsRene Magritte The Sea of Flames
'Grandfather,' they said, 'how far back does your memory go?'"
"'Way, way back. Back long before humans,' he said, and his voice was soft and cracked and frail."
"'Is it true that the greatest battle ever known is coming soon, Grandfather?'"
"'Yes, children,' and daring and he believes his cause is just. Except for one thing, children. He hasn't got Aesahaettr. Without Aesahaettr, he and all his forces will go down to defeat. And then we shall feast for years, my children!'"he said. 'A greater battle than the last one, even. Fine feasting for all of us. These will be days of pleasure and plenty for every ghast in every world.'""'And who's going to win, Grandfather? Is Lord Asriel going to defeat the Authority?'""'Lord Asriel's army numbers millions,' the old cliff-ghast told them, 'assembled from every world. It's a greater army than the one that fought the Authority before, and it's better led. As for the forces of the Authority, why, they number a hundred times as many. But the Authority is age-old, far older even than me, children, and His troops are frightened, and complacent where they're not frightened. It would be a close fight, but Lord Asriel would win, because he is passionate

Bill Brauer The Gold Dress

2009-02-11T00:06:00.000-08:00

Bill Brauer The Gold DressHenri Matisse Blue Nude I 1952Cassius Marcellus Coolidge A Friend in Need
lane ran down through trees to another road at the far end, and it wasn't lighted. It would have been easy for an ordinary burglar to get unobserved into the shrubbery and that there was a strong iron fence twice as high as Will, with spikes on the top, running the length of Sir Charles's property. However, it wascabinet thing and I'll close that window and then I'll come back to this one. You stay here in this world and keep watch. As soon as you hear me call you, you come through this window into Ci'gazze and then I'll close it up again. All right?"
"Yeah," she whispered. "Both me and Pan'll look out."
Her daemon was a small tawny owl, almost invisible in the no barrier to the subtle knife."Hold this bar while I cut it," Will whispered. "Catch it when it falls."Lyra did as he said, and he cut through four bars altogether, enough for them to pass through without difficulty. Lyra laid them one by one on the grass, and then they were through, and moving among the bushes.Once they had a clear sight of the side of the house, with the creeper-shaded window of the study facing them across the smooth lawn, Will said quietly, "I'm going to cut through into Ci'gazze here, and leave the window open, and move in Ci'gazze to where I think the study is, and then cut back through to this world. Then I'll take the alethiometer out of that

Thomas Kinkade End of a Perfect Day

2009-02-05T23:09:00.000-08:00

Thomas Kinkade End of a Perfect DayThomas Kinkade Beacon of hopeThomas Kinkade The Sea Of Tranquility
! Stop crying!" he said. "Tell me from the beginning. What old man? What happened?"
"You're going to be so angry. I promised I wouldn't give you away, I promised it, and then…" she sobbed, and Pantalaimon became a young clumsy dog with lowered ears and wagging tail, squirming with self-abasement; and Will understood that Lyra had done something that she was too ashamed to tell him about, and he spoke to the daemon.
"What in his agitation: dog, bird, cat, snow-white ermine.
"What did the man look like?" said Will.
"Big," said Lyra's muffled voice, "and ever so strong, and pale eyes…"
"Did he see you come back through the window?"
"No, but…"
"Well, he won't know where we are, then."happened? Just tell me," he said.Pantalaimon said, "We went to the Scholar, and there was someone else there—a man and a woman—and they tricked us. They asked a lot of questions and then they asked about you, and before we could stop we gave it away that we knew you, and then we ran away—"Lyra was hiding her face in her hands, pressing her head down against the pavement. Pantalaimon was flickering from shape to shape

Leroy Neiman Daily Double

2009-02-04T23:38:00.000-08:00

Leroy Neiman Daily DoubleLeroy Neiman Cross Town Rivalry 1967Leroy Neiman Cowboys Bills Superbowl
what do you think it is?" she asked.
"Well, what we think it is—" As she began, the kettle boiled, so she continued. "We think it's some kind of elementary particle. Something quite different from anything discovered so far. But the particles are very hard to detect… Where do you go to school? Do you study physics?"
Lyra felt and put
She handed across a was no milk and no sugar, but she did find a couple of ginger biscuits in a drawer, and Lyra took one hungrily.
"And we found a particle that fits," Dr. Malone went on. "We think it fits. But it's so strange… Why am I telling you this? I shouldn't. It's not published, it's not refereedPantalaimon nip her hand, warning her not to get cross. It was all very well, the alethiometer telling her to be truthful, but she knew what would happen if she told the whole truth. She had to tread carefully and just avoid direct lies."Yes," she said, "I know a little bit. But not about dark matter.""Well, we're trying to detect this almost-undetectable thing among the noise of all the other particles crashing about. Normally they put detectors very deep underground, but what we've done instead is to set up an electromagnetic field around the detector that shuts out the things we don't want and lets through the ones we do. Then we amplify the signal

Leroy Neiman the 37th Ryder Cup

2009-02-03T23:00:00.001-08:00

Leroy Neiman the 37th Ryder CupLeroy Neiman Ryder CupLeroy Neiman Ryder Cup detail
Queen," said the young witch, unable to stay silent under Serafina's gaze, "I know the man Stanislaus Grumman. I used to love him. But I hate him now with such a fervor that if I see him, I shall kill him. I would have said nothing, but my sister. But this task of ours is greater than revenge. Remember that."
"Yes, Queen," said the young witch humbly.
And Serafina Pekkala and her twenty-one companions and Queen Ruta Skadi of Latvia prepared to fly into the new world, where no witch had ever flown before. made me tell you."She glanced with hatred at the elder witch, who returned her look with compassion: she knew about love."Well," said Serafina, "if he is still alive, he'll have to stay alive until Mr. Scoresby finds him. You had better come with us into the new world, and then there'll be no danger of your killing him first. Forget him, Juta Kamainen. Love makes us sufferwisest, suggesting a mission to all the other witch clans to urge them to join together for the first time.
Ruta Skadi agreed with that

Marc Chagall Paris Through the Window

2009-02-02T21:21:00.000-08:00

Marc Chagall Paris Through the WindowMarc Chagall Lovers in the MoonlightMarc Chagall Adam and Eve
with it, well, it's like having the alethiometer but no idea how to read it. I suppose I'll have to work, but I don't know at what. My parents are probably rich, but I bet they never thought of putting any money aside for me. And anyway, I think they must have used all their money up by now, so even if I did have a claim on it, there wouldn't be any left. I don't know, Master. I came back to Jordan because this used to be my Home, and I didn't have glittering more than usual, her chin was held high with a look she'd learned from Will without knowing it. She looked defiant as well as lost, Dame Hannah thought, and admired her for it; and the Master saw something else, he saw how the child's unconscious grace had gone, and how she was awkward in her growing body. But he loved the girl dearly, and he felt half-proud and half in awe of the beautiful adult she would be, so soon.
He said, "You will never be lost anywhere else to go. I think Svalbard, and I think Serafina Pekkala would let me live with her witch clan; but I'm not a bear and I'm not a witch, so I wouldn't really fit in there, much as I love them. Maybe the gyptians would take me in...But really I don't know what to do anymore. I'm lost, really, now."They looked at her: her eyes were

Juan Gris The Guitar

2009-02-01T18:58:00.000-08:00

Juan Gris The GuitarJuan Gris BreakfastGeorge Bellows Stag at Sharkey's
Anyway," Mary went on. "I remembered the taste, and all at once I was back tasting it for the first time as a young girl.
"I was twelve years old. I was at a party at the house of one of my friends, a birthday party, and there was a disco, that's where I remember trying to smile, and blushing, and feeling so foolish, and I fell in love with him just for that, for the gentle way he touched my lips with the marzipan."
As Mary said that, Lyra felt something strange happen to her body. She felt as if she had been handed the key to a great house she hadn't known was there, a house that was somehow inside her, and as she turned the key, she felt other doors opening deep in the they a kind of recording machine and people dance," she explained, seeing Lyra's puzzlement. "Usually girls dance together because the boys are too shy to ask them. But this boy, I didn't know him, he asked me to dance, and so we had the first dance and then the next, and by that time we were talking... And you know what it is when you like someone, you know it at once; well, I liked him such a lot. And we kept on talking and then there was a birthday cake. And he took a bit of marzipan and he just gently put it in my mouth,

Marc Chagall The Fiddler

2009-01-20T22:10:00.000-08:00

Marc Chagall The FiddlerPaul Gauguin AreareaGeorges Seurat Sunday Afternoon on the Island of la Grande JatteUnknown Artist Jasper Johns three flags
and she swayed. Will was ahead of her, just too far to reach, or she might have taken his hand; but at that moment she was more conscious of Roger, and a little flicker of vanity blazed up for a moment in her heart. There'd been an occasion once on Jordan when just to frighten him, she'd defied her vertigo and walked along the edge of the was nothing she could do: her weight shifted, the stones moved under her feet, and helplessly she began to slide. In the first moment it was annoying, and then it was comic: How silly! she thought. But as she utterly failed to hold on to anything, as the stones rolled and tumbled beneath her, as she slid down toward the edge, gathering speed, the horror of it slammed into her. She was going to fall. There was nothing to stop her. It was already too late.
Her body convulsed with terror. She wasn't aware of the ghosts who flung stone gutter.She looked back to remind him of it now. She was Roger's Lyra, full of grace and daring; she didn't need to creep along like an insect.But the little boy's whispering voice said, "Lyra, be careful, remember, you en't dead like us...”And it seemed to happen so slowly, but there

Pino pino color

2009-01-18T21:32:00.000-08:00

Pino pino colorPino AngelicaPablo Picasso The Old Guitarist
would be merciful to kill it," said Tialys. "How do you know?" said Lyra. "It might still like being alive, in spite of everything."
"If we killed it, we'd be taking it with us," said Will. "It wants to stay here. I've killed enough living things. Even a filthy stagnant pool might be better than being dead."
"But if it's in pain?" said Tialys.
"If it could tell us, Pantalaimon crept into Lyra's breast as she and Will moved closer together, treading carefully along the slimy path.
And then they were at the shore. The oily, scummy water lay still in front of them, an occasional ripple breaking languidly on the pebbles.we'd know. But since it can't, I'm not going to kill it. That would be considering our feelings rather than the toad's."They moved on. Before long the changing sound their footsteps made told them that there was an openness nearby, although the mist was even thicker. Pantalaimon was a lemur, with the biggest eyes he could manage, clinging to Lyra's shoulder, pressing himself into her fog-pearled hair, peering all around and seeing no more than she did. And still he was trembling and trembling.Suddenly they all heard a little wave breaking. It was quiet, but it was very close by. The dragonflies returned with their riders to the children, and

Jack Vettriano Amateur Philosophers

2009-01-15T23:16:00.000-08:00

Jack Vettriano Amateur PhilosophersJack Vettriano along game a SpiderJack Vettriano Along Came A Spider
the armory," Lord Asriel said shortly, and turned away to talk quietly with the angel.
Mrs. Coulter said to Lord Roke, "My lord, are your spies always sent out in pairs?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Simple curiosity. My your daemon? Did you expect us to concede the advantage?" he said, and his haughty stare, brilliantly clear even in the soft light of the crystals, dared her to ask more.
She looked down modestly and said nothing.
Several minutes went past, and Mrs. Coulter felt the train taking them downward, even daemon and I found ourselves at a stalemate when we met them recently in that cave, and I was intrigued to see how well they fought.""Why intrigued? Did you not expect people of our size to be good fighters?"She looked at him coolly, aware of the ferocity of his pride."No," she said. "I thought we would beat you easily, and you very nearly beat us. I'm happy to admit my mistake. But do you always fight in pairs?""You are a pair, are you not, you and

Unknown Artist Ranson Apple Tree with Red Fruit

2009-01-14T23:39:00.000-08:00

Unknown Artist Ranson Apple Tree with Red FruitUnknown Artist Spring is in the AirSalvador Dali The Great Masturbator
into midstream and giving a blast on the whistle that echoed for a long time around the valley.
Will sat on a rock, reading the map. If he was right, the valley where Lyra was captive, according to the shaman, lay some way It was good walking for the first part of their journey. The sun was warm, but the pines and the rhododendrons kept the worst of the heat off their shoulders, and the air was fresh and clear. The ground was rocky, but the rocks were thick with moss and pine needles, and the slopes to the east and the south, and the best way there led through a pass called Sungchen."Bears, mark this place," said Iorek Byrnison to his subjects. "When the time comes for us to move back to the Arctic, we shall assemble here. Now go your ways, hunt, feed, and live. Do not make war. We are not here for war. If war threatens, I shall call for you."The bears were solitary creatures for the most part, and they only came together in times of war or emergency. Now that they were at the edge of a land of snow, they were impatient to be off, each of them, exploring on their own."Come, then, Will," said Iorek Byrnison, "and we shall find Lyra."Will lifted his rucksack and they set off.

Lorenzo Lotto Venus and Cupid

2009-01-13T22:53:00.000-08:00

Lorenzo Lotto Venus and CupidJean Fragonard The BathersThomas Gainsborough Mrs Sheridan
Asleep? And the woman's alone? No soldiers with her?"
"Alone, yes. In hiding."
"And Lyra's not harmed?"
"No. Just asleep, and dreaming. Let me show you where they are."
With his pale finger, Baruch traced a map in the bare soil beside the fire. Will took his notebook and copied it exactly. It showed a glacier with a curious serpentine shape, flowing down between three almost identical mountain peaks.
"Now," said the angel, "we ended by saying, "with red silk banners half-torn by the winds. And a young girl brings food to the cave. They think the woman is a saint who will bless them if they look after her needs."
"Do they," said Will. "And she's hiding... That's what I don't understand. Hiding from the Church?"
"It seems so." go closer. The valley with the cave runs down from the left side of the glacier, and a river of meltwater runs through it. The head of the valley is here..."He drew another map, and Will copied that; and then a third, getting closer in each time, so that Will felt he could find his way there without difficulty, provided that he'd crossed the four or five thousand miles between the tundra and the mountains. The knife was good for cutting between worlds, but it couldn't abolish distance within them."There is a shrine near the glacier," Baruch

Pierre Auguste Renoir Sleeping Bather

2009-01-12T22:13:00.000-08:00

Pierre Auguste Renoir Sleeping BatherPierre Auguste Renoir Seating GirlPierre Auguste Renoir La Moulin de la Galette
connections to friends that make it harder to break your addiction. Nobody ever said that personal development was easy, however. Beyond connecting his discussion of habits to principles, Pavlina does cover some helpful hints on actually breaking negative habits and creating , such as 30-day trials and stair-stepping. From there, Pavlina dives back into his principles and covers how habits interact with the secondary principlesinterested in starting from scratch — Personal Development for Smart People really could be the right fit. On that note, I recommend adding Personal Development for Smart People to your reading list., such as oneness and authority. He does the same with don’t know if Personal Development for Smart People is going to be a game-changing book as far as personal development goes. While it is packed with good information, it has a ground-up approach that may not work for everyone. So many people are looking for help with just their careers or just that it seems not everyone is ready for such a broadly-based book. But for those individuals who are ready to tackle some dramatic changes — especially those

Jack Vettriano The Assessors

2009-01-12T00:56:00.000-08:00

Jack Vettriano The AssessorsJack Vettriano The AssessmentJack Vettriano The Arrangement
It’s good to have goals. I have them — it’s a part of living and working. But how much are you investing in your much of your Happyour goals?
It’s also natural to have desires, but if your a series of desires, one after the other, and everything in you is in pursuit of those desires, you will always be striving , waiting for it.
Instead, remember: Stop waiting for happiness.is right here, right now.Think about it: if you are only happy once you reach a goal, what about all the time you spend getting to the goal? That’s much more of your life than actually being at the goal. If you’re only happy when you’re at the destination, you’ll be unhappy most of the time.
Feel free to pursue and desires … but don’t make your happiness dependent on them. Don’t think of something you’ll have once X happens (whatever X is right now for youa Journey - Enjoy It!
So how do you go forhere, right now? By remembering that the important thing isn’t the destination … it’s the journey

Vincent van Gogh Couple in the Park,Arles

2009-01-11T23:12:00.000-08:00

Vincent van Gogh Couple in the Park,ArlesLeonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra de BenciLeonardo da Vinci Portrait Of A Young Lady
Did you know that almost every woman is more sensitive on one side ofher clitoris than the other? You do now. So what are you going to doabout it?Here's a great technique that will let you easily determine which is yourwoman's "sensitive side" should resemblean open parenthesis. You should now be touching the delicate skinbeneath the clitoris (the 6 o'clock position). Run your tongue back up ina half-circle, retracing the previous movement. Repeat the half-circlemotion.After you've stimulated the left side for about thirty seconds, switch to theright. Now your motion should resemble a closed parenthesis. Continuefor about thirty seconds, then add some circular tongue motions.Judging by your woman's reaction, you'll soon know which side shouldbe receiving most of your attention. Once you know, though, don'tneglect the other side.so you can pleasure her accordingly.Here's What You Need:Just the two of you.Here's How You Do It:Get your woman naked. Have her lie on her back with her knees bentand legs slightly apart.You're eventually going to position your tongue above her clitoris, buttake your time. Let your tongue glide up her legs, over the inner thighs,around the bikini line and so on. Now ease on over to your woman'sspecial place.Touch your tongue just above the clitoris (the 12 o'clock position). Nowbring it down and to the left in a half-circle. The motion

Andy Warhol Marilyn Monroe Pink

2009-01-07T23:28:00.000-08:00

Andy Warhol Marilyn Monroe PinkAndy Warhol Mao Yellow ShirtAndy Warhol Mao Red
A gratifying sex life after 35 calls for a series of adjustments. Some people confront them poorly: the 45-year-old male who skitters off after a 21-year-old cocktail waitress, the middle-aged woman who flirts to prove that her allure hasn't faded. But for couples who understand the normal and inevitable changes, and meet them together, sexual pleasure can be greater than ever. Their sex lives will be rich in their 40s, 50s -- and beyond. Good nerve function, healthy hormone levels, and an unobstructed blood flow to the pelvic area are essential to sexual performance. To keep these systems in working order, a diet should be based on legumes, grain products, and other complex carbohydrates, with plenty of fruits and vegetables and modest levels of protein; this diet provides plenty of vitamins and minerals. Particularly important are citrus fruits for vitamin C to strengthen blood vessel walls, and low-fat dairy products, enriched or fortified cereals, whole grains, and green vegetables
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Some people vouch for the effect of foods on their sex drive, but extravagant claims for aphrodisiacs are not borne out by scientific studies. While sexual function may be our physical response to a cascade of hormones, sexual drive is basically maintained by an active mind in a healthy body. Here are the essentials:

Andy Warhol Shoes 1980

2009-01-07T00:30:00.000-08:00

Andy Warhol Shoes 1980Andy Warhol Shadows IIAndy Warhol Shadows I
It looks like we have now entered a new bull phase in the stock market and I have a question for you. Will you give back the profits that you make this time as you did in 2000? You sure don't want to, but you are not going to get any help from your broker.We saw the technology stocks and many mutual funds lose about 80% of their value. Many people did not want to open their monthly brokerage statements and I couldn't blame them. Were there any way those losses could have been avoided? You betcha, but you won't hear that from your broker.
The investors (Not really the right term. They were gamblers.) had bought stocks and mutual funds during the 90's and seen them have huge advances. They thought they were going to retire early, buy an island in the Caribbean and drink rum and coke all day with no hassels. All of a sudden the bull was attacked and eaten by a grizzly bear. Dreams of comfortable early retirement went up in smoke as the bull was barbequed.

Jack Vettriano Lines of Sacrifice

2009-01-05T22:59:00.000-08:00

Jack Vettriano Lines of SacrificeJack Vettriano legs ElevenJack Vettriano Lazy Hazy Days
But she replied, in a tone of mystery:
"I cannot tell you anything. You must find him for yourself." And, kissing him, she added, "Cheer up; you are getting nearer to him at each trial."
Now there came a about. "Time was when I used to burn them; that was much more amusing than nowadays."
"Oh, I feel I am going to turn," wailed Milk.
"I'm not afraid," said the Dog, trembling in every limb, "but if you run away... I shall run away too... and with the greatest pleasure..."
The Cat sat pulling at her whiskers: day on which she said to him: "I have received a message from the Fairy Bérylune telling me that the Blue Bird is probably hidden in the graveyard... It appears that one of the Dead in the grave-yard is keeping him in his tomb...." "What shall we do?" asked Tyltyl. "It is very simple: at midnight you will turn the diamond and you shall see the Dead come out of the ground." At these words, Milk, Water, Bread and Sugar began to yell and scream and chatter their teeth like anything. "Don't mind them," said Light to Tyltyl, in a whisper. "They are afraid of the Dead." "I'm not afraid of them? said Fire, frisking

Andy Warhol Flowers 1964 painting

2009-01-05T00:12:00.000-08:00

Andy Warhol Flowers 1964 paintingAndy Warhol Cow Pink on Yellow paintingAndy Warhol Shot Blue Marilyn 1964 painting
soon as she had learnt the danger that threatened her, she began to lament her fate. What! A man's son coming to her palace! And, perhaps, with the help of the magic diamond, discovering her secrets! What should she do? What would become of her? How could she defend herself? And, forgetting that she was sinning against Silence, her own particular god, Night began to utter piercing screams. It was true that falling into such a commotion was hardly likely the great door at the back of the hall, behind which the Birds of the Moon live and generally the Blue Bird too. The secrets of the other caverns will be sure to scare them. The hope of our safety lies in the terror which you will make them feel."
There was clearly no other course to take. But Night had not time to reply, for she heard a sound. Then her beautiful features contracted; her wings spread out angrily; and everything in her attitude told Tylette that Night approved of her plan.
"Here they are!" cried the Cat. to help her find a cure for her troubles. Luckily for her, Tylette, who was accustomed to the annoyances and worries of better armed. She had worked out her plan when going ahead of the children; and she was hoping to persuade Night to adopt it. She explained this plan to her in a few words: "I see only one thing for it, Mother Night: as they are children, we must give them such a fright that they will not dare to insist on opening

Klimt lady with fan I

2009-01-02T22:23:00.000-08:00

Klimt lady with fan IKlimt two girls with an oleander detailRaphael The Mond CrucifixionRaphael Sistine Madonna 2 angels
commercial success, eventually grossing almost $400,000 yearly. The remedy claimed to cure all womanly ailments and weaknesses and sold for $1 a bottle. What was in the herbal remedy? Turns out, it contained less than 1% solid substance from vegetable extracts and almost 20% alcohol. If a woman took the suggested 1 tablespoon every 2-4 hours, she will have consumed 5 ounces of 13.5% or higher alcohol by the end of the day – more than enough for a seem a bit more cheery to boozy housewives. When the Federal Trade Commission tightened its laws on claims made by Lydia Pickham’s Vegetable Compound had to swallow the restrictions with a spoonful of sugar.3. Crystal Clear Amoco Gasoline: Good, Clean FunPicture 193.pngIn 1996, the Amoco Oil Company agreed to settle a Federal Trade Commission charge that its “Crystal Clear Amoco Ultimate” advertised unsubstantiated claims. The premium gasoline, because of its clear color, boasted superior engine performance and environmental benefits. The fact is, at the time the country was going through a clear revolution. Pepsi had gone clear (Crystal clear, in fact!). Clearly Canadian was dominating shelves. And Amoco, which had for years made a clear colored fuel, decided to capitalize on the trend. Unfortunately, they had no factual evidence to substantiate their “better for the environment and your engine” claims, and the company was forced to curb their campaign.

Jack Vettriano The Twilight Zone

2008-12-29T23:55:00.000-08:00

Jack Vettriano The Twilight ZoneJack Vettriano The TrapJack Vettriano The Tourist Trap
looked dead and cold as a crypt. From time to time promising features would appear on the distant horizon - ravines, maybe mountains, maybe even cities - but as they approached the lines would soften and blur into anonymity and nothingafter?" One of Zaphod's heads looked away. The other one looked round to see what the first was looking at, but it wasn't looking at anything very much. "Well," said Zaphod airily, "it's partly the curiosity, partly a sense of adventure, but mostly I think it's the fame and the money ..." Ford glanced at him sharply. He got a very strong impression that Zaphod hadn't the faintest idea why he was there at all. would transpire. The planet's surface was blurred by time, by the slow movement of the thin stagnant air that had crept across it for century upon century. Clearly, it was very very old. A moment of doubt came to Ford as he watched the grey landscape move beneath them. The immensity of time worried him, he could feel it as a presence. He cleared his throat. "Well, even supposing it is ..." "It is," said Zaphod. "Which it isn't," continued Ford. "What do you want with it anyway? There's nothing there." "Not on the surface," said Zaphod. "Alright, just supposing there's something. I take it you're not here for the sheer industrial archaeology of it all. What are you

Perrault An Interesting Story

2008-12-28T23:42:00.000-08:00

Perrault An Interesting StoryPerrault Le Miroir De La NatureCarpaccio Madonna and Blessing ChildCaravaggio Rest on Flight to Egypt
money — the visual system represented it more strongly," said lead researcher John Serences, assistant professor of psychology at the University of California, San Diego. Rewards affected information processing in this initial sense and also in parts of the brain where higher cognitive thinking takes place.
"Though it is too early to say how the journal Neuron. Further study could help researchers better understand how addictions influence information processing, Serences said. Just seeing food or drugs, for example, might have a larger impact on the psyches of some people than others. this relates to perception," Serences said, "it raises the intriguing possibility that we see things we value more clearly — much like the way the brain responds to a bright object versus a dimly lit one."In fact, the brain seemed to know more than a participant was able to call to mind: The changes in neural activity were a better sign of an object's past value than what subjects recalled when asked about those objects."It's as if the visual system is telling you how valuable something has been to you in the past," Serences said, "and telling it to you like it is, even though you can't consciously identify it."The findings are reported in the Dec. 26 issue of

Machado Picnic On The Sea

2008-12-26T00:07:00.000-08:00

Machado Picnic On The SeaMachado Picnic in the Forest of Gustave KlimtMachado Picnic At Ipanema
non-existence of God. "The argument goes something like this: `I refuse to prove that I exist,' says God, `for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.' "`But,' says Man, `The Babel fish is a dead giveaway, isn't it? It could not have evolved by from the place that the Earth would have been if it still existed. The Earth. Visions of it swam sickeningly through his nauseated mind. There was no way his imagination could feel the impact of the whole Earth having gone, it was too big. He prodded his feelings by thinking that his parents and his sister had gone. No reaction. He thought of all the people he had chance. It proves you exist, and so therefore, by your own arguments, you don't. QED.' "`Oh dear,' says God, `I hadn't thought of that,' and promptly vanished in a puff of logic. "`Oh, that was easy,' says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing. "Most leading theologians claim that this argument is a load of dingo's kidneys, but that didn't stop Oolon Colluphid making a small fortune when he used it as the central theme of his best- selling book Well That About Wraps It Up For God. "Meanwhile, the poor Babel fish, by effectively removing all barriers to communication between different races and cultures, has caused more and bloddier wars than anything else in the history of creation." Arthur let out a low groan. He was horrified to discover that the kick through hyperspace hadn't killed him. He was now six light years

Van Gogh The Langlois Bridge at Arles with Women Washing

2008-12-23T01:02:00.000-08:00

Van Gogh The Langlois Bridge at Arles with Women WashingFragonard Music LessonFragonard The SwingFragonard Coresus Sacrificing himselt to Save Callirhoe
fans, Fric shopped the library shelves for a book, mindful that Mr. Truman had said not to dawdle.In case they didn’t make s’mores and sit on the floor telling scary stories, he took the trouble of finding a book that he might actually enjoy reading. He soft ringing of a hundred tiny wind chimes all agitated at once.When he looked up at the stained-glass dome, he saw hundreds of pieces of glass break out of the leading and fall toward him.No. Not glass. The stained-glass mosaic remained in place across the entire arc of the thirty-foot dome. Shards of color and shadow fell out of the glass without breaking it, fell through it from the night above or maybe from somewhere immeasurably stranger than the night.[556] The shards fell slowly, not to the demand of gravity,figured that he would be awake most of this long night, and not because he was excited about Christmas Eve coming in just two days. If he didn’t have a book to pass the time, he would go as crazy as Barbra Streisand’s two-headed cat.He had just found a novel that looked good when he heard noise overhead: a shimmering, like the

Kimble White Bellied Chicken

2008-12-21T21:52:00.000-08:00

Kimble White Bellied ChickenKimble The Front PorchKimble The American FarmKimble Spotted Chicken
463] As he let the number ring, Hazard noticed a pedestrian turn the corner at the end of the block, on thé far side of the street, coming in the direction of the Laputa residence.Something was wrong about the guy. He had neither an umbrella nor a the rain.Theatrical. In this weather no other pedestrians were in sight, and at the moment no traffic moved on this quiet residential street, yet the guy appeared to be performing without an audience, for his own amusement.Tired of listening to Laputa’s phone ring, Hazard pressed END on his cell keypad.The pedestrian appeared to be talking to himself, although from across the street Hazard could not be certain of this.raincoat. The downpour had diminished to a , but it was not weather in which anyone went for a stroll. And that was another thing: The guy didn’t hurry.Attitude, however, was what really cranked up the Hazard Yancy suspicion machine. If the guy had been a sponge, he’d have been so saturated with attitude that he couldn’t have made room for one drop of rain.He swaggered under the streetlamps, not like genuine tough guys sometimes swaggered, but as movie stars swaggered when they thought they were getting the tough-guy thing just right. His gray pants, black turtleneck, and black leather coat were soaked, but he seemed to defy

Pablo Picasso Le Moulin de la Galette painting

2008-12-18T00:44:00.000-08:00

Pablo Picasso Le Moulin de la Galette paintingPablo Picasso Gertrude Stein paintingTamara de Lempicka Portrait of Madame painting
The elevator moved again. In but a moment it stopped at the upper level of the parking garage.Perhaps he would step out and find himself on a rainy street, in the path of an out-of-control PT Cruiser.The door slid aside, revealing nothing , tangled bodies of the cruelly murdered. He might have [375] been sitting before a ghastly mural of the many victims in the names of whom he, as a homicide detective, had sought justice.He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and let the tension shiver out of him.After a while, he considered turning on the radio to pass the time until Hazard arrived. Sheryl Crow, Barenaked Ladies, Chris Isaak, without orchestral strings and timpanis and French horns, might mellow his mood.He was reluctant to click the switch. He suspected that instead of the more impossible than the concrete walls of an underground garage and ranks of vehicles huddled under fluorescent lights.As he walked to the Expedition, his ragged breathing quickly grew normal. His racing heart not only slowed but also settled out of his throat, into his chest where it belonged.Behind the wheel of the SUV, he pushed the master switch to engage the power locks on all the doors.Through the windshield he could see nothing but a concrete wall mottled by water stains and car-exhaust deposits. Here and there, over time, florescences of lime had risen to the surface.His imagination wanted to search for collected menageries among the shifting shapes of clouds. Here, he saw only decomposing faces and the tumbled

Henri Rousseau The Sleeping Gypsy painting

2008-12-16T22:13:00.001-08:00

Henri Rousseau The Sleeping Gypsy paintingHenri Rousseau The Dream paintingLaurie Maitland Symphony in Red and Khaki I painting
chats, like two school chums, sharing dreams and more secrets than two spies aligned against the world.”In fact, their entire so secret that even Fric didn’t know about it.Freddie described Fric as “an exuberant, self-assured boy, very athletic like his father, wonderful with horses, a superb rider.”Horses?Ethan would have later.Freddie would probably argue that in an interview with Vanity Fair, she needed to calculate each statement to enhance her image. How super could a supermodel be, if from her loins had sprung any but a supernaturally super son?Burning those pages of the magazine that featured photographs of Freddie would bet a year’s pay that if Fric ever had dealings with horses, they had been the kind that never left droppings and ran manufacturing this false Fric, Freddie seemed to suggest that the real qualities of her son either did not impress her or possibly even embarrassed her.Fric was smart enough and sensitive enough to draw that very conclusion.The thought of the boy reading this hurtful drivel moved Ethan not to toss the magazine in the trash basket beside his desk, but to throw it angrily toward the fireplace, with the intention of burning it be

Francisco de Goya Blind Man's Buff painting

2008-12-12T00:35:00.000-08:00

Francisco de Goya Blind Man's Buff paintingEdgar Degas The Rehearsal paintingEdgar Degas The Bellelli Family painting
statement would thereafter be taken with enough salt to crust the rims of a million margarita glasses.“The shooter who killed Reynerd,” Hazard said, “was a gangbanger called himself Hector X. Real name was Calvin Roosevelt. He’s a high cuzz in the Crips, so you figure his accomplice must’ve been driving a set of wheels they boosted right before the hitafter that, his lawyer contacted me, told me Dunny’s will named me executor, and his living will gives me the right to make medical decisions for him.”“You never mentioned this.”“Didn’t see any reason. You know what he was. You understand why I didn’t want him in myBut I accepted the situation out of ... I don’t know ... because of what he meant to me when we were kids.”Hazard nodded. He withdrew a roll of hard caramels from a coat pocket, peeled back the wrapping, and offered to share..”“Standard,” Ethan agreed.“But there’s no stolen-car report on the Benz they used. I got the number on the tags, and you won’t believe who it belongs to.”Hazard looked up from his folded hands. He met Ethan’s eyes.Although Ethan didn’t know what was coming, he knew it couldn’t be good. “Who?”“Your boyhood pal. The notorious Dunny Whistler.”[239] Ethan didn’t look away. He didn’t dare. “You know what happened to him a few months ago.”“Some guys drowned him in a toilet, but he didn’t quite die.”“Few days

Albert Bierstadt California Coast painting

2008-12-10T21:35:00.000-08:00

Albert Bierstadt California Coast paintingAlbert Bierstadt Buffalo Country paintingAlbert Bierstadt Bavarian Landscape paintingAlbert Bierstadt The Emerald Pool painting
ago, after he had learned that he held authority over Dunny’s affairs.Surprise had been matched by dismay. Although Hannah had been gone for five years, the presence of the picture seemed to be an act of emotional aggression, and somehow an insult to her memory that [92] she should be an object of affection—and once anDunny had phoned to say that over those thirty-six months, he had brooded long and hard on her untimely death at thirty-two. Gradually but profoundly, the loss of her—just knowing that she was no longer out there somewhere in the world—had affected him, had changed him forever.Dunny claimed that he was going to go straight, extract himself from all his criminal enterprises. Ethan had not believed him, but had wished him luck. They had never spoken again.Later, he heard through third parties that Dunny had that old object of crime and violence.Ethan had left the photograph untouched, for even with a power of attorney covering all of Dunny’s affairs, he had felt that the picture in the handsome silver frame hadn’t been his property either to dispose of or to claim.At the hospital on the night of Hannah’s death, again at the funeral, following twelve years of estrangement, Ethan and Dunny had spoken. not, however, brought them together otherwise. They had not exchanged a word for three years.On the third anniversary of Hannah’s passing,

Vincent van Gogh lying cow painting

2008-12-07T22:26:00.000-08:00

Vincent van Gogh lying cow paintingVincent van Gogh The shepherdess paintingVincent van Gogh The Red Vineyard paintingVincent van Gogh The potato eaters painting
them. For so it seemed to them: Lórien was slipping backward, like a bright ship masted with enchanted trees, sailing on to forgotten shores, while they sat helpless upon the margin of the grey and leafless world.Even as they gazed, the Silverlode passed out into the currents of the Great River, and their boats turned and began to speed southwards. Soon the white form of the Lady was small and distant. She shone like a window of glass upon a far hill in the westering sun, or as a remote lake seen from a mountain: a crystal fallen in the lap of the land. Then it seemed to Frodo that she lifted her arms in a final farewell, and far but piercing-clear on the and spoke of things little known on Middle-earth.Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,Yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!Yéni ve lintë yuldar avániermi oromardi lisse-miruvórevaAndúnë pella, Vardo tellumarnu luini yassen tintilar i eleniómaryo airetári-lírinen. Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?following wind came the sound of her voice singing. But now she sang in the ancient tongue of the Elves beyond the Sea, but it did not comfort him.Yet as is the way of Elvish words, they remained graven in his memory, and long afterwards he interpreted them, as well as he could: the language was that of Elven-song

Joseph Mallord William Turner Fishermen at Sea painting

2008-12-04T23:58:00.000-08:00

Joseph Mallord William Turner Fishermen at Sea paintingJohn Singer Sargent El Jaleo painting
open. Beyond it was a large square chamber. It was dimly lit, but to their eyes, after so long a time in the dark, it seemed dazzlingly bright, and they blinked as they entered.Their feet disturbed a deep dust upon the floor, and stumbled among things lying in the a great slab of white stone.`It looks like a tomb,' muttered Frodo, and bent forwards with a curious sense of foreboding, to look more closely at it. Gandalf came quickly to his side. On the slab runes were deeply graven: 'These are Daeron's Runes, such as were used of old in Moria,' said Gandalf. 'Here is written in the tongues of Men and Dwarves:BALIN SON OF FUNDINLORD OF MORIA.''He is dead then,' said Frodo. `I feared it was so.' Gimli cast his hood over his face
Francois Boucher Leda and the Swan paintingJohannes Vermeer the Milkmaid painting
doorway whose shapes they could not at first make out. The chamber was lit by a wide shaft high in the further eastern wall; it slanted upwards and, far above, a small square patch of blue sky could be seen. The light of the shaft fell directly on a table in the middle of the room: a single oblong block, about two feet high, upon which was laid The Bridge of Khazad-dûmThe Company of the Ring stood silent beside the tomb of Balin. Frodo thought of Bilbo and his long friendship with the dwarf, and of Balin's visit to the Shire long ago. In that dusty chamber in the mountains it seemed a thousand years ago and on the other side of the world.

Peder Severin Kroyer paintings

2008-12-03T22:43:00.000-08:00

Peder Severin Kroyer paintingsPeter Paul Rubens paintings
few knew where it lay.''And here in the house of Elrond more shall be made clear to you' said Aragorn, standing up. He cast his sword upon the table that stood before Elrond, and the blade was in two pieces. `Here is the Sword that was Broken!' he said.`And who are you, and what have you to do with Minas Tirith?' asked Boromir, looking in wonder at the lean face of the Ranger and his weather-stained cloak.`He is Aragorn son of Arathorn,' said Elrond; `and he is descended through many that you should hold it for a while.''Bring out the Ring, Frodo!' said Gandalf solemnly. `The time has come. Hold it up, and then Boromir will understand the remainder of his riddle.'There was a hush, and all turned their eyes on Frodo. He was shaken by a sudden
Robert Williams paintingsRobert Duval paintings
fathers from Isildur Elendil's son of Minas Ithil. He is the Chief of the Dúnedain in the North, and few are now left of that folk.'`Then it belongs to you, and not to me at all!' cried Frodo in amazement, springing to his feet, as if he expected the Ring to be demanded at once.'It does not belong to either of us,' said Aragorn; `but it has been ordained he felt a great reluctance to reveal the Ring, and a loathing of its touch. He wished he was far away. The Ring gleamed and flickered as he held it up before them in his trembling hand.'Behold Isildur's Bane!' said Elrond.Boromir's eyes glinted as he gazed at the golden thing. `The Halfling!' he muttered. `Is then the doom of Minas Tirith come at last? But why then should we seek a broken sword?'

Bastida Palm Grove

2008-12-03T00:01:00.000-08:00

Bastida Palm GroveBastida Valencian FishermanBastida Valencian FishergirlBastida Three Sails
great hearth between the carven pillars upon either side.Frodo found himself walking with Gandalf. `This is the Hall of Fire' said the wizard. `Here you will hear many songs and tales-if you can keep awake. But except on high days it usually stands empty and quiet, and people come here who wish for peace, and thought. There is of his dark cloak was drawn over his face.Elrond went forward and stood beside the silent figure. 'Awake little master. he said, with a smile. Then, turning to Frodo, he beckoned to him. 'Now at last the hour has come that you have wished for, Frodo,' he said. `Here is a friend that you have long missed.'The dark figure raised its head and uncovered its face.`Bilbo!' cried Frodo with sudden recognition, and he sprang forward.always a fire here, all the year round, but there is little other light.'As Elrond entered and went towards the seat prepared for filled, and Frodo looked with delight upon the many fair faces that were gathered together; the golden firelight played upon them and shimmered in their hair. Suddenly he noticed, not far from the further end of the fire, a small dark figure seated on a stool with his back propped against a pillar. Beside him on the ground was a drinking-cup and some bread. Frodo wondered whether he was ill (if people were ever ill in Rivendell), and had been unable to come to the feast. His head seemed sunk in sleep on his breast, and a fold

Ford Smith Depth of Meaning 2

2008-12-01T23:44:00.000-08:00

Ford Smith Depth of Meaning 2Ranson Apple Tree with Red Fruitpaul ranson Edge of the Forestpaul ranson Apple Tree with Red Fruit
All the same the hobbits wished he was coming with them. They felt that he would know how to deal with Black Riders, if anyone did. They would soon now be going forward into lands wholly strange to them, and beyond all but the most vague and distant legends of the Shire, and in the gathering twilight they . A deep loneliness and sense of loss was on them. They stood silent, reluctant to make the final parting, and only slowly became wary! Keep up your merry hearts, and ride to meet your fortune!'They begged him to come at least as far as the inn and drink once more with them; but he laughed and refused, saying:Tom's country ends here: he will not pass the borders.Tom has his house to mind, and Goldberry is waiting!Then he turned, tossed up his hat, leaped on Lumpkin's back, and rode up over the bank and away singing into the dusk.aware that Tom was wishing them farewell, and telling them to have good heart and to ride on till dark without halting.'Tom will give you good advice, till this day is over (after that your own luck must go with you and guide you): four miles along the Road you'll come upon a village, Bree under Bree-hill, with doors looking westward. There you'll find an old inn that is called The Prancing Pony. Barliman Butterbur is the worthy keeper. There you can stay the night, and afterwards the morning will speed you upon your way. Be bold, but

Matisse Les voiliers

2008-11-27T23:51:00.000-08:00

Matisse Les voiliersMatisse Les persiennesMatisse Le genou leveMatisse Le bonheur de vivre
Back on the platform, they found Lily and Hugo, Rose's younger brother, having an animated discussion about which House they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts.

"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," said Ron, "but no pressure."
"Look who it is." 　　　Draco Malfoy was standing there with his wife and son, a dark coat buttoned up to his throat. His hair was receding somewhat, which emphasized the pointed chin. The new boy resembled Draco as much as Albus resembled Harry. Draco caught sight of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny staring at him, nodded curtly, and turned away again.
"Ron!"

Lily and Hugo laughed, but Albus and Rose looked solemn.

　　　"He doesn't mean it," said Hermione and Ginny, but Ron was no longer paying attention. Catching Harry's eye, he nodded covertly to a point some fifty yards away. The steam had thinned for a moment, and three people stood in sharp relief against the shifting mist.

Vibert Autumn Flowers

2008-11-19T22:45:00.000-08:00

Vibert Autumn FlowersVibert The ReprimandVibert The Final TouchCorot View at Riva Italian Tyrol
You'd better come up." said Xenophilius, still looking extremely uncomfortable, and he led the way.

The room above seemed to be a combination of living room and workplace,
　Luna was not there: The thing that was making such a racket was a wooden object covered in magically turning cogs and wheels, It looked like the bizarre offspring of a workbench and a set of shelves, but after a moment Harry press, due to the fact that it was churning out Quibblers.
and as such, was even more cluttered than the kitchen. Though much smaller and entirely round, the room somewhat resembled the Room of Requirement on the unforgettable occasion that it had transformed itself into a gigantic labyrinth comprised of centuries of hidden objects. There were piles upon piles of books and papers on every surface. Delicately made models of creatures Harry did not recognize, all flapping wings or snapping jaws, hung from the ceiling.

Vincent van Gogh The Sower painting

2008-11-09T23:42:00.001-08:00

Vincent van Gogh The Sower paintingVincent van Gogh The Night Cafe paintingVincent van Gogh Cafe Terrace at Night painting
VANISHES
CURSE OF EVEREST VILAS STRIKES AGAIN
The body of the respected movie producer, S. S. Sisodia, had been discovered by domestic staff, lying in the centre of the living-room rug in the apartment of the celebrated actor Mr. Gibreel Farishta, with a hole through the heart. Miss Alleluia Cone, in what was believed to be a "related incident", had fallen to her death from the roof of the skyscraper, from which, a couple of years previously, Mrs. Rekha Merchant had hurled her children and herself towards the concrete below.
The morning papers were less equivocal about Farishta's latest role. FARISHTA, UNDER SUSPICION, ABSCONDS.
"I'm going back to Scandal Point," Salahuddin told Zeeny, who, misunderstanding this withdrawal into an inner chamber of the spirit, flared

Juan Gris Landscape at Ceret painting

2008-11-04T19:18:00.000-08:00

Juan Gris Landscape at Ceret paintingJuan Gris Harlequin with Guitar paintingJuan Gris Guitar on a Chair painting
rubbing the rough edges off one another, adjusting their inventions, moulding imagination to actuality, learning how to be together: or not. It works out or it doesn't. But to suppose that Gibreel Farishta and Alleluia Cone could have gone along so familiar a path is to make the mistake of thinking their ordinary. It wasn't; didn't have so much as a shot at ordinariness.
It was a with serious flaws.
("The modern city," Otto Cone on his hobbyhorse had lectured his bored family at table, "is the locus classicus of incompatible realities. Lives that have no mingling with one another sit side by side upon the omnibus. One universe, on a zebra crossing, is caught for an instant, blinking like a rabbit, in the headlamps of a motor-vehicle in which an entirely alien and contradictory continuum is to be found. And as long as that's all, they pass in the night, jostling on Tube stations, raising their hats in some hotel corridor, it's not so bad. But if they meet! It's uranium and plutonium, each makes the other

Gustav Klimt The Bride painting

2008-10-28T00:00:00.000-07:00

Gustav Klimt The Bride paintingGustav Klimt Hope paintingClaude Monet The Seine At Argenteuil painting
there had been more than a few migrants aboard, yes, quite a quantity of wives who had been grilled by reasonable, doing-their-job officials about the length of and distinguishing moles upon their husbands' genitalia, a sufficiency of children upon whose legitimacy the British Government had cast its everreasonable doubts -- mingling with the remnants of the plane, equally fragmented, equally absurd, there floated the debris of the soul, broken memories, sloughed-off selves, severed mothertongues, violated privacies, untranslatable jokes, extinguished futures, lost loves, the forgotten meaning of hollow, booming words, _land_, _belonging_Knocked a little silly by the blast, Gibreel and Saladin plummeted like bundles dropped by some carelessly open-beaked stork, and because Chamcha was going down head first, in the recommended position for babies entering the birth canal, he commenced to feel a low irritation at the other's refusal to fall in plain fashion. Saladin nosedived while Farishta embraced air, hugging it with his arms and legs, a flailing, overwrought actor without techniques of restraint. Below

Robert Duval Magic Moment painting

2008-10-23T00:12:00.000-07:00

Robert Duval Magic Moment paintingRobert Duval Emotional Dance paintingRobert Duval Attraction painting
to adopt them as his sons, though he already had sons of his own, and bring them up as worthy inheritors of the family tradition. (Hear, hear! from Callus, and general applause.) But now that he has been snatched from us by cruel fate (groans and lamentations) I make the same request of you. In the presence of the Gods, in the face of your beloved Country, I beseech you, receive into your protection, take under your tuition, these noble great-grandchildren of Augustus, descended from ancestors whose names resound in Roman history: see that your duty and mine is honourably fulfilled towards them. Grandsons, these senators are now in the place of fathers to you, and your birth is such that whatever good or evil may befall you will spell the good or evil of the entire State." (Resounding applause, tears, benedictions, shouts of loyalty.)
But instead of leaving off there he spoilt the whole effect by ending on a familiar note with his old stale phrases about presently retiring and restoring

Gustav Klimt The Bride painting

2008-10-17T20:47:00.000-07:00

Gustav Klimt The Bride paintingGustav Klimt Hope paintingClaude Monet The Seine At Argenteuil painting
and Postumus would have come, but in order to call as little attention to me as possible Livia had arranged a banquet that night at the Palace which they could not be excused from attending.my present to her of fire and water-everything was in order, except that the torchlight procession was omitted and that the whole performance was carried through perfunctorily .and hurriedly and with bad grace. In order not to stumble over her husband's threshold the first time she enters, a Roman bride is always lifted over it. The two Claudians who had to do the lifting were both elderly men
When I married Urgulanilla, the same sort of thing happened. Very few people were aware of our marriage until the day after it had been solemnized. There was nothing irregular about the ceremony. Urgulanilla's saffron-coloured shoes and flame-coloured veil, the taking of the auspices, the eating of holy cake, the two stools covered with sheepskin, the libation I poured, the anointing by her of the doorposts, the three coins,

Filippino Lippi Allegory painting

2008-10-04T22:20:00.000-07:00

Filippino Lippi Allegory paintingBartolome Esteban Murillo A Girl and her Duenna paintingLouis Aston Knight Houses by the River painting
came to her, this disturbing and unsought revelation, one evening in May, when Rex had told her he would be busy at the House, and, driving by chance down Charles Street, she saw him leaving what she knew to be Brenda Champion’s house. She was so hurt and angry that she could barely keep up appearances through dinner; as soon as she could, she went Home and cried bitterly for ten minutes; then she felt hungry, wished she had eaten more at dinner, ordered some bread-and-milk, and went to bed saying:
‘When Mr Mottram telephones in the morning, whatever time it is, say I am not to be disturbed.’

Next day she breakfasted in bed as usual, read the papers, telephoned to her friends.
Finally she asked: ‘Did Mr Mottram ring up by any chance?’