Tamara de Lempicka DormeuseTamara de Lempicka AndromedaTamara de Lempicka Adam and Eve
thin, gangling, pale from reading disturbing books in unhealthy rooms, and had watery eyes like two lightly-poached eggs. It crossed Gander's mind that one must speculate in order to accumulate.
All he needs to get right to the top, he thought, is a bit of a handicap. Wizards are martyrs to things like asthma and flat feet, it somehow seems to give them their drive.
"What's your name, lad?" he said, as kindly as possible.
" "My young friend follows higher magic than the mere hurling of sorceries," said the wizard.
"-o," said Simon.
Gander nodded.
"Well," he said, "maybe you will indeed be a wizard, lad. Maybe when you have your fine staff you'll consent to travel with me one time, yes? I will make an investment in you, yes?"Sssssssssssssss" said the boy. His Adam's apple bobbed like a captive balloon. He turned to his companion, full of mute appeal. "Simon," said Trestle. "- imon," agreed Simon, thankfully. "Can you cast fireballs or whirling spells, such as might be hurled against an enemy?" Simon looked sideways at Trestle. "Nnnnnnnnnn" he ventured.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
John William Waterhouse Hylas and the Nymphs
John William Waterhouse Hylas and the NymphsJohn William Waterhouse Waterhouse OpheliaLeonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra Benci
Occasionally she would throw herself into frantic bouts of housework; ancient crusts were unceremoniously dug out of the cracks in the flagstones, and the fireback was scraped free of the winter's soot and blackleaded to withinnest of mice in the back of the dresser were kindly but firmly ejected into the goatshed.
Sunset came.
The light of the Discworld was old and slow and heavy. From the cottage door Granny watched as it drained off the greater effort. But something was wrong. Her thoughts seemed to be chasing around beyond her control, and disappearing. Pain and exhilaration and weariness poured into her mind, but it was as if other things were spilling out at the same time. Memories mountains, flowing in golden rivers through the forest. Here and there it pooled in hollows until it faded and vanished. She drummed her fingers sharply on the doorpost, humming a small and bitter little tune. Dawn came, and the cottage was empty except for Esk's body, silent and unmoving on the bed. But as the golden light flowed slowly across the Discworld like the first freshing of the tide over mudflats the eagle circled higher into the dome of heaven, beating the air down with slow and powerful wingbeats. The whole of the world was spread out beneath Esk - all the continents, all the islands, all the rivers and especially the great ring of the Rim Ocean. There was nothing else up here, not even sound.Esk gloried in the feel of it, willing her flagging muscles into
Occasionally she would throw herself into frantic bouts of housework; ancient crusts were unceremoniously dug out of the cracks in the flagstones, and the fireback was scraped free of the winter's soot and blackleaded to withinnest of mice in the back of the dresser were kindly but firmly ejected into the goatshed.
Sunset came.
The light of the Discworld was old and slow and heavy. From the cottage door Granny watched as it drained off the greater effort. But something was wrong. Her thoughts seemed to be chasing around beyond her control, and disappearing. Pain and exhilaration and weariness poured into her mind, but it was as if other things were spilling out at the same time. Memories mountains, flowing in golden rivers through the forest. Here and there it pooled in hollows until it faded and vanished. She drummed her fingers sharply on the doorpost, humming a small and bitter little tune. Dawn came, and the cottage was empty except for Esk's body, silent and unmoving on the bed. But as the golden light flowed slowly across the Discworld like the first freshing of the tide over mudflats the eagle circled higher into the dome of heaven, beating the air down with slow and powerful wingbeats. The whole of the world was spread out beneath Esk - all the continents, all the islands, all the rivers and especially the great ring of the Rim Ocean. There was nothing else up here, not even sound.Esk gloried in the feel of it, willing her flagging muscles into
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Diane Romanello Sunset Beach
Diane Romanello Sunset BeachGustav Klimt The Virgins (Le Vergini)Gustav Klimt The Three Ages of Woman
Esk was sitting up in the narrow bed, unsinged but shrieking. Granny took the child in her arms and tried to comfort her; she wasn't sure how one went about it, but a distracted patting on the back and vague reassuring noises seemed to work, and the screams became wails and, eventually, sobs. Here and there Granny could pick out words like "fire" and "hot", and her mouth set in a thin, bitter line.
made the most of her implied license to explore.
She found that life in the cottage wasn't entirely straightforward. There was the matter of the goats' names, for example.
"But they've got to have names!" she said. "Everything's got a name."Finally she settled the child down, tucked her in, and crept quietly down stairs. The staff was back against the wall. She was not surprised to see that the fire hadn't marked it at all. Granny turned her rocking chair to face it, and sat down with her chin in her hand and an expression of grim determination. Presently the chair began to rock, of its own accord. It was the only sound in a silence that thickened and spread and filled the room like a terrible dark fog. Next morning, before Esk got up, Granny hid the staff in the thatch, well out of harm's way. Esk ate her breakfast and drank a pint of goat's milk without the least sign of the events of the last twenty-four hours. It was the first time she had been inside Granny's cottage for more than a brief visit, and while the old woman washed the dishes and milked the goats she
Esk was sitting up in the narrow bed, unsinged but shrieking. Granny took the child in her arms and tried to comfort her; she wasn't sure how one went about it, but a distracted patting on the back and vague reassuring noises seemed to work, and the screams became wails and, eventually, sobs. Here and there Granny could pick out words like "fire" and "hot", and her mouth set in a thin, bitter line.
made the most of her implied license to explore.
She found that life in the cottage wasn't entirely straightforward. There was the matter of the goats' names, for example.
"But they've got to have names!" she said. "Everything's got a name."Finally she settled the child down, tucked her in, and crept quietly down stairs. The staff was back against the wall. She was not surprised to see that the fire hadn't marked it at all. Granny turned her rocking chair to face it, and sat down with her chin in her hand and an expression of grim determination. Presently the chair began to rock, of its own accord. It was the only sound in a silence that thickened and spread and filled the room like a terrible dark fog. Next morning, before Esk got up, Granny hid the staff in the thatch, well out of harm's way. Esk ate her breakfast and drank a pint of goat's milk without the least sign of the events of the last twenty-four hours. It was the first time she had been inside Granny's cottage for more than a brief visit, and while the old woman washed the dishes and milked the goats she
Edward Hopper Dawn In Pennsylvania
Edward Hopper Dawn In PennsylvaniaEdward Hopper Cape Cod AfternoonLeroy Neiman Ryder CupUnknown Artist Mary Magdalene in the Desert
'What? In his head?''Um. No. In the fabric of the Universe,' said Wert. 'He might think he can control it by himself, but —'They felt the sound before they heard it. It started off in the stones as a slow vibration, then rose suddenly to a knife-edge whine that bypassed the eardrums and bored straight into the brain. It sounded like a human voice singing, or chanting, or screamfng, but there were deeper and more horrible pink crescent where it caught the light of the star.
But in front of everything the top of the Tower of Art was an incandescent fury. Shapes could be dimly glimpsed within it, but there was nothing reassuring about them. The sound had changed now to the wasplike buzzing, magnified a million times.
Some of the wizards sank to their knees.
'He's done it,' said Wert, shaking his head. 'He's opened a pathway.'
'Are those things demons?' said Twoflower.
'Oh, demons,' said Wert. 'Demons would be harmonics.The wizards went pale. Then, as one man, they turned and ran up the steps.There were crowds outside the building. Some people were holding torches, others had stopped in the act of piling kindling around the walls. But everyone was staring up at the Tower of Art.The wizards pushed their way through the unheeding bodies, and turned to look up.The sky was full of moons. Each one was three times bigger
'What? In his head?''Um. No. In the fabric of the Universe,' said Wert. 'He might think he can control it by himself, but —'They felt the sound before they heard it. It started off in the stones as a slow vibration, then rose suddenly to a knife-edge whine that bypassed the eardrums and bored straight into the brain. It sounded like a human voice singing, or chanting, or screamfng, but there were deeper and more horrible pink crescent where it caught the light of the star.
But in front of everything the top of the Tower of Art was an incandescent fury. Shapes could be dimly glimpsed within it, but there was nothing reassuring about them. The sound had changed now to the wasplike buzzing, magnified a million times.
Some of the wizards sank to their knees.
'He's done it,' said Wert, shaking his head. 'He's opened a pathway.'
'Are those things demons?' said Twoflower.
'Oh, demons,' said Wert. 'Demons would be harmonics.The wizards went pale. Then, as one man, they turned and ran up the steps.There were crowds outside the building. Some people were holding torches, others had stopped in the act of piling kindling around the walls. But everyone was staring up at the Tower of Art.The wizards pushed their way through the unheeding bodies, and turned to look up.The sky was full of moons. Each one was three times bigger
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Franz Marc Deer in the Woods II
Franz Marc Deer in the Woods IIFranz Marc Blaues Pferd 1Franz Marc AffenfriesGarmash Sleeping Beauty
yes,' Rincewind agreed fervently, eyeing the doorway. 'Not much conversation, I imagine.'
'It's always "When I was alive — " and "We really knew how to breathe in my day — ",' she said, laying a small white hand on his arm and smiling at him. They're always so set in their ways, too. No fun at all. So formal.'
'Stiff?' suggested Rincewind. She was propelling him towards an archway.
'Absolutely. What's your name? My name is Ysabell.'
'Um, Rincewind. Excuse me, but if this is the house of Death, what are you doing here? You don't look dead to me.'
'Oh, I live here.' She looked intently at him. 'I say, you haven't come to rescue your lost love, have you? That always of clothes?'
As he spoke he was aware that he may have missed something vital. He shut his eyes and tried to recall the last few minutes of conversation. Then it hit him like a sandbag.
'Daddy?'
She looked down demurely. 'Adopted, actually,' she said. 'He found meannoys daddy, he says it's a good job he never sleeps because if he did he'd be kept awake by the tramp, tramp, tramp of young heroes coming down here to carry back a lot of silly girls, he says.''Goes on a lot, does it?' said Rincewind weakly, as they walked along a black-hung corridor.'All the time. I think it's very romantic. Only when you leave, it's very important not to look back.''Why not?'She shrugged. 'I don't know. Perhaps the view isn't very good. Are you a hero, actually?''Um, no. Not as such. Not at all, really. Even less than that, in fact. I just came to look for a friend of mine,' he said wretchedly. 'I suppose you haven't seen him?Little fat man, talks a lot, wears eyeglasses, funny sort
yes,' Rincewind agreed fervently, eyeing the doorway. 'Not much conversation, I imagine.'
'It's always "When I was alive — " and "We really knew how to breathe in my day — ",' she said, laying a small white hand on his arm and smiling at him. They're always so set in their ways, too. No fun at all. So formal.'
'Stiff?' suggested Rincewind. She was propelling him towards an archway.
'Absolutely. What's your name? My name is Ysabell.'
'Um, Rincewind. Excuse me, but if this is the house of Death, what are you doing here? You don't look dead to me.'
'Oh, I live here.' She looked intently at him. 'I say, you haven't come to rescue your lost love, have you? That always of clothes?'
As he spoke he was aware that he may have missed something vital. He shut his eyes and tried to recall the last few minutes of conversation. Then it hit him like a sandbag.
'Daddy?'
She looked down demurely. 'Adopted, actually,' she said. 'He found meannoys daddy, he says it's a good job he never sleeps because if he did he'd be kept awake by the tramp, tramp, tramp of young heroes coming down here to carry back a lot of silly girls, he says.''Goes on a lot, does it?' said Rincewind weakly, as they walked along a black-hung corridor.'All the time. I think it's very romantic. Only when you leave, it's very important not to look back.''Why not?'She shrugged. 'I don't know. Perhaps the view isn't very good. Are you a hero, actually?''Um, no. Not as such. Not at all, really. Even less than that, in fact. I just came to look for a friend of mine,' he said wretchedly. 'I suppose you haven't seen him?Little fat man, talks a lot, wears eyeglasses, funny sort
Monday, March 2, 2009
Leroy Neiman 16th at Augusta
Leroy Neiman 16th at AugustaSalvador Dali Manhattan SkylineMartin Johnson Heade Cattleya Orchid and Three Brazilian HummingbirdsCaravaggio The Raising of Lazarus
'You summoned me, master,' said Trymon levelly. At least, that's what his voice said. Deep in his grey eyes was the faintest about the Pyramid of Tsort in the Library, you would have thought there'd be something, wouldn't you?'
The librarian will be disciplined, of course.'
Galder looked sideways at him. 'Nothing drastic,' he said. 'Withold his bananas, perhaps.'
They looked at each other for a moment.glitter that said he had a list of every slight, every patronising twinkle, every gentle reproof, every knowing glance, and for every single one Galder's living brain was going to spend a year in acid.'Oh, yes, so I did. Humour the deficiencies of an old man,' said Galder pleasantly. He held up the book he had been reading.'I don't hold with all this running about,' he said. 'It's all very dramatic, mucking about with magic carpets and the like, but it isn't true magic to my mind. Take seven league boots, now. If men were meant to walk twenty-one miles at a step I am sure God would have given us longer legs . . . Where was I?''I am not sure,' said Trymon coldly.'Ah, yes. Strange that we could find nothing
'You summoned me, master,' said Trymon levelly. At least, that's what his voice said. Deep in his grey eyes was the faintest about the Pyramid of Tsort in the Library, you would have thought there'd be something, wouldn't you?'
The librarian will be disciplined, of course.'
Galder looked sideways at him. 'Nothing drastic,' he said. 'Withold his bananas, perhaps.'
They looked at each other for a moment.glitter that said he had a list of every slight, every patronising twinkle, every gentle reproof, every knowing glance, and for every single one Galder's living brain was going to spend a year in acid.'Oh, yes, so I did. Humour the deficiencies of an old man,' said Galder pleasantly. He held up the book he had been reading.'I don't hold with all this running about,' he said. 'It's all very dramatic, mucking about with magic carpets and the like, but it isn't true magic to my mind. Take seven league boots, now. If men were meant to walk twenty-one miles at a step I am sure God would have given us longer legs . . . Where was I?''I am not sure,' said Trymon coldly.'Ah, yes. Strange that we could find nothing
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Children on the Beach Valencia
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Children on the Beach ValenciaJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Child's SiestaJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Before BathingJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beaching the Boat
If you will follow me to my house I will find you food and a change of clothing," said the troll solemnly. He set off over the rocks without turning to see if they would follow him. After all, where else could they go? It was getting dark, and a chilly damp breeze was blowing over the edge of the world. Already the transient Rimbow had faded think we'll be able to look down and see Great A'tuin the World Turtle?" asked Twoflower, staring at the rolling clouds.
"I hope not," said Rincewind, "I really do. Now let's go, shall we?"
Twoflower followed him reluctantly into the shack. The troll had lit a couple of lamps and was sitting comfortably in a rocking chair. He got to his feet as they entered and poured two cups of a green liquid from a tall pitcher. In the dim light he appeared to phosphoresce, in the manner and the mists above the waterfall were beginning to thin."Come on," said Rincewind, grabbing Twoflower's elbow. But the tourist didn't appear to want to move."Come on," the wizard repeated."When it gets really dark, do you
If you will follow me to my house I will find you food and a change of clothing," said the troll solemnly. He set off over the rocks without turning to see if they would follow him. After all, where else could they go? It was getting dark, and a chilly damp breeze was blowing over the edge of the world. Already the transient Rimbow had faded think we'll be able to look down and see Great A'tuin the World Turtle?" asked Twoflower, staring at the rolling clouds.
"I hope not," said Rincewind, "I really do. Now let's go, shall we?"
Twoflower followed him reluctantly into the shack. The troll had lit a couple of lamps and was sitting comfortably in a rocking chair. He got to his feet as they entered and poured two cups of a green liquid from a tall pitcher. In the dim light he appeared to phosphoresce, in the manner and the mists above the waterfall were beginning to thin."Come on," said Rincewind, grabbing Twoflower's elbow. But the tourist didn't appear to want to move."Come on," the wizard repeated."When it gets really dark, do you
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