Thomas Kinkade Sunrise Chapel
being lugged into position, and various clankings and swearwords.'All right, come on in.'The clown led
Thomas Kinkade Streams of Living Water
overweight. A pair of rubber braces, so that his trousers bounced up and down when he walked, were a further component in the overall picture of a complete and utter twerp.'Yes,' said Colon. 'There is.''Sure?''Positive.''Sorry about that,' said the clown. 'It's stupid, I know, but kind of traditional. Wait a moment.'There were sounds
Thomas Kinkade Spirit of Christmas
'There seems to be a bucket of whitewash over the door,' he said.
'Is there?' said the . He wasn't fat, but a sort of hoop in his trousers was supposed to make him look amusingly of a stepladder the way through the gatehouse. There was no sound but the flop-flop of his boots on the cobbles. Then an idea seemed to occur to him.
'It's a long shot, I know, but I suppose neither of you gentlemen'd like a sniff of my buttonhole?'
'No.'
'No.'
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Lorenzo Lotto Nativity
Lorenzo Lotto NativityLorenzo Lotto Madonna and Child with SaintsCamille Pissarro Place du Theatre FrancaisCamille Pissarro Landscape at Chaponval
out across rolling vistas without getting cattle and inconvenient poor people wandering across the lawns. Under Bloody Stupid's errant pencil it was dug fifty feet deep and had claimed three gardeners already.
The maze was so small that people got lost looking for it.
But the PatricianI didn't make any noise . . .
'Ah, Havelock—' he began.
'You have something to tell me, doctor?'
'It's been . . . mislaid.'
'Yes. And no doubt you are anxiously seeking it. Very well. Good day.'
The Patrician hadn't moved his head the whole time. He hadn't even bothered to ask what It was. He bloody well knows, thought Cruces. How is it you can never tell him anything he doesn't rather liked the gardens, in a quiet kind of way. He had certain views about the mentality of most of mankind, and the gardens made him feel fully justified.Piles of paper were stacked on the lawn around the chair. Clerks renewed them or took them away periodically. They were different clerks. All sorts and types of information flowed into the Palace, but there was only one place where it all came together, very much like strands of gossamer coming together in the centre of a web.A great many rulers, good and bad and quite often dead, know what happened; a rare few actually manage, by dint of much effort, to know what's happening. Lord Vetinari considered both types to lack ambition.'Yes, Dr Cruces,' he said, without looking up.How the hell does he do it? Cruces wondered. I know
out across rolling vistas without getting cattle and inconvenient poor people wandering across the lawns. Under Bloody Stupid's errant pencil it was dug fifty feet deep and had claimed three gardeners already.
The maze was so small that people got lost looking for it.
But the PatricianI didn't make any noise . . .
'Ah, Havelock—' he began.
'You have something to tell me, doctor?'
'It's been . . . mislaid.'
'Yes. And no doubt you are anxiously seeking it. Very well. Good day.'
The Patrician hadn't moved his head the whole time. He hadn't even bothered to ask what It was. He bloody well knows, thought Cruces. How is it you can never tell him anything he doesn't rather liked the gardens, in a quiet kind of way. He had certain views about the mentality of most of mankind, and the gardens made him feel fully justified.Piles of paper were stacked on the lawn around the chair. Clerks renewed them or took them away periodically. They were different clerks. All sorts and types of information flowed into the Palace, but there was only one place where it all came together, very much like strands of gossamer coming together in the centre of a web.A great many rulers, good and bad and quite often dead, know what happened; a rare few actually manage, by dint of much effort, to know what's happening. Lord Vetinari considered both types to lack ambition.'Yes, Dr Cruces,' he said, without looking up.How the hell does he do it? Cruces wondered. I know
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Mark Spain Cordoba
Mark Spain CordobaMark Spain ContemplationMark Spain CastillaMark Spain CarmenMark Spain Burning Desire
Will you look at the size of the horn on that thing?”
“I can see clear enough,” said Granny calmly.
The unicorn lowered its head and charged. Nanny Ogg reached the nearest tree with low branches and leapt upward. ..
Granny Weatherwax folded her arms.
“Come on, Esme!”
“No. I ain’t been 306
I.QR06 ftffQ iftO/EQ
because wishing was soppy, but she felt a tiny regret that she’d never be able to meet them.
Perhaps some were going to die, now, here on this path. Everything thinking clear enough, but I am now.There’s some things I don’t have to run from.”The white shape bulleted down the avenue of trees, a thousand pounds of muscle behind twelve inches of glisten-ing hom. Steam swirled behind it.“Esme!”Circle time was ending. Besides, she knew now why her mind had felt so unravelled, and that was a help. She couldn’t hear the ghostly thoughts of all the other Esme Weatherwaxes anymore.Perhaps some lived in a world ruled by elves. Or haddied long ago. Or were living what they thought were happylives. Granny Weatherwax seldom wished for anything,
Will you look at the size of the horn on that thing?”
“I can see clear enough,” said Granny calmly.
The unicorn lowered its head and charged. Nanny Ogg reached the nearest tree with low branches and leapt upward. ..
Granny Weatherwax folded her arms.
“Come on, Esme!”
“No. I ain’t been 306
I.QR06 ftffQ iftO/EQ
because wishing was soppy, but she felt a tiny regret that she’d never be able to meet them.
Perhaps some were going to die, now, here on this path. Everything thinking clear enough, but I am now.There’s some things I don’t have to run from.”The white shape bulleted down the avenue of trees, a thousand pounds of muscle behind twelve inches of glisten-ing hom. Steam swirled behind it.“Esme!”Circle time was ending. Besides, she knew now why her mind had felt so unravelled, and that was a help. She couldn’t hear the ghostly thoughts of all the other Esme Weatherwaxes anymore.Perhaps some lived in a world ruled by elves. Or haddied long ago. Or were living what they thought were happylives. Granny Weatherwax seldom wished for anything,
Friday, April 24, 2009
Paul Gauguin The Yellow Christ
Paul Gauguin The Yellow ChristPaul Gauguin The Vision After the SermonPaul Gauguin Spirit of the Dead Watching
“That’s settled, then,” she said.“Hold on, I’m not sure—““Yes, Mr. Quamey?”“Oh . . . well...”“Good, Terry Pratchett
make out one or two stones by the flickering light, lying on their side or rolled down the slope of the hill.
The hill itself glowed. Something was wrong with the landscape. It curved where it shouldn’t curve. Distances weren’t right. Magrat remembered a woodcut shoved in as a place marker in one of her old books. It showed the face of an old crone but, if you stared at it, you saw it was also the head of a young woman; a nose became a neck, an eyebrow became a necklace. The images seesawed back and forth. And like everyone else, she’d squinted herself silly trying to see them both at the same time.
The landscape was doing pretty much the same thing. What was a hill was also at the same time a vast snowbound panorama. Lancre and the land of the elves were trying to occupy the same space.
The intrusive country wasn’t having it all its own way.good,” said Nanny, as Shawn reappeared. “They was just saying, our Shawn, how they was swayed by your speech. Really pussiked up.”“Cor!”“They’re ready to follow you into the jaws of hell itself, Iexpect,” said Nanny.Someone put up their hand.“Are you coming too, Mrs. Ogg?”
“That’s settled, then,” she said.“Hold on, I’m not sure—““Yes, Mr. Quamey?”“Oh . . . well...”“Good, Terry Pratchett
make out one or two stones by the flickering light, lying on their side or rolled down the slope of the hill.
The hill itself glowed. Something was wrong with the landscape. It curved where it shouldn’t curve. Distances weren’t right. Magrat remembered a woodcut shoved in as a place marker in one of her old books. It showed the face of an old crone but, if you stared at it, you saw it was also the head of a young woman; a nose became a neck, an eyebrow became a necklace. The images seesawed back and forth. And like everyone else, she’d squinted herself silly trying to see them both at the same time.
The landscape was doing pretty much the same thing. What was a hill was also at the same time a vast snowbound panorama. Lancre and the land of the elves were trying to occupy the same space.
The intrusive country wasn’t having it all its own way.good,” said Nanny, as Shawn reappeared. “They was just saying, our Shawn, how they was swayed by your speech. Really pussiked up.”“Cor!”“They’re ready to follow you into the jaws of hell itself, Iexpect,” said Nanny.Someone put up their hand.“Are you coming too, Mrs. Ogg?”
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Titian The Fall of Man
Titian The Fall of ManTheodore Chasseriau Apollo and DaphneEmile Munier Cupid Disarmed
chain-mail, Shawn,” she said.
“What, miss?” He glanced at the open door again.
“That’s terrible. You must take it off, Shawn. How can
you hear with all that stuff around your ears?”
Shawn was aware ofDiamanda was smiling at him in a funny way.
He ran.
Somehow, the woods had changed. Ridcully was certain that in his youth they’d been full of bluebells and primroses and—and bluebells and whatnot and so on. Not bloody great briars all over the place. They snagged at the empty space behind him. Buthe daren’t look around.“I can hear fine, miss,” he said, trying to ease himself around so that his back was against a wall.“But you can’t hear truly,” said Diamanda, drifting for-ward. “The iron makes you deaf.”Shawn was not yet used to thinly clad young women approaching him with a dreamy look on their faces. He fer-vently wished he could take the Path of the Retreating Back.205Terry PratehettHe glanced sideways.There was a tall skinny shape outlined in the open cell doorway. It was standing very carefully, as if it wanted to keep as far away from its surroundings as possible.
chain-mail, Shawn,” she said.
“What, miss?” He glanced at the open door again.
“That’s terrible. You must take it off, Shawn. How can
you hear with all that stuff around your ears?”
Shawn was aware ofDiamanda was smiling at him in a funny way.
He ran.
Somehow, the woods had changed. Ridcully was certain that in his youth they’d been full of bluebells and primroses and—and bluebells and whatnot and so on. Not bloody great briars all over the place. They snagged at the empty space behind him. Buthe daren’t look around.“I can hear fine, miss,” he said, trying to ease himself around so that his back was against a wall.“But you can’t hear truly,” said Diamanda, drifting for-ward. “The iron makes you deaf.”Shawn was not yet used to thinly clad young women approaching him with a dreamy look on their faces. He fer-vently wished he could take the Path of the Retreating Back.205Terry PratehettHe glanced sideways.There was a tall skinny shape outlined in the open cell doorway. It was standing very carefully, as if it wanted to keep as far away from its surroundings as possible.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Paul Gauguin The Loss of Virginity
Paul Gauguin The Loss of VirginityPaul Gauguin Tahitian WomanPaul Gauguin JoyousnessThomas Kinkade country living
the king!” hissed Shawn. “And me without my trumpet!”
“Urn,” said Verence. “Post been yet, Shawn?”
“Oh, yes, sire!” said Shawn, almost as flustered as the king. “Got it right here. Don’t you worry about it! I’ll open it all up and have it on your desk right away, sire!”
“Urn...”
“Something the matter, sire?”
“Um ... I think perhaps ...”
Shawn was , and turned a few pages.
“Hey, look at this one! He’s doing it with his feet! I didn’t know you could do it with your feet!” He nudged Ponder Stibbons. “Look, sir!”
Ridcully peered at the king.already tearing at the wrappers.“Here’s that book on etiquette you’ve been waiting for, sire, and the pig stockbook, and ... what’s this one ... ?”Verence made a grab for it. Shawn automatically tried to hang on to it. The wrapping split, and the large bulky book thumped on to the cobbles. Its fluttering pages played their woodcuts to the breeze.They looked down.“Wow!” said Shawn.“My word,” said Ridcully.“Um,” said the king.“Oook?”Shawn picked up the book very, very carefully
“You all right, your majesty?” he said.
Verence squirmed.
the king!” hissed Shawn. “And me without my trumpet!”
“Urn,” said Verence. “Post been yet, Shawn?”
“Oh, yes, sire!” said Shawn, almost as flustered as the king. “Got it right here. Don’t you worry about it! I’ll open it all up and have it on your desk right away, sire!”
“Urn...”
“Something the matter, sire?”
“Um ... I think perhaps ...”
Shawn was , and turned a few pages.
“Hey, look at this one! He’s doing it with his feet! I didn’t know you could do it with your feet!” He nudged Ponder Stibbons. “Look, sir!”
Ridcully peered at the king.already tearing at the wrappers.“Here’s that book on etiquette you’ve been waiting for, sire, and the pig stockbook, and ... what’s this one ... ?”Verence made a grab for it. Shawn automatically tried to hang on to it. The wrapping split, and the large bulky book thumped on to the cobbles. Its fluttering pages played their woodcuts to the breeze.They looked down.“Wow!” said Shawn.“My word,” said Ridcully.“Um,” said the king.“Oook?”Shawn picked up the book very, very carefully
“You all right, your majesty?” he said.
Verence squirmed.
Monday, April 20, 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
what I mean.”
Nanny Ogg looked worried.
“Supposing Magrat’d been here,” said Granny. “She’d see me being daft.”
“Well, she’s safe in the castle,” said Nanny. “Learning how to be queen.”
“At least the thing about queening,” said Granny, “is that no one notices if you’re doing it wrong. It has to be right ‘cos it’s you doing it.”
“S’funny, royalty,” said Nanny. “It’s like magic. You take some girl with a bum like two pigs in a blanket and a head full of air and then she marries a king or a prince or some-one and suddenly she’s this radiant right royal princess. It’s a funny old world.”
“I ain’t going to kowtow to her, mind,” said Granny.
“You never “Her mother was a Keeble, wasn’t she? Fine woman, as I recall.”
“Yeah, but when she died the old man sent her off to Sto Lat to school.”
57
Terry Pratchett
“Don’t hold with schools,” said Granny Weatherwaxkowtow to anyone anyway,” said Nanny Ogg patiently. “You never bowed to the old king. You barely gives young Verence a nod. You never kowtows to anyone ever, anyway.”“That’s right!” said Granny. “That’s part of being a witch, that is.”Nanny relaxed a bit. Granny being an old woman made her uneasy. Granny in her normal state of barely controlled anger was far more her old self.Granny stood up.“Old Toekley’s girl, eh?”“That’s right.”
what I mean.”
Nanny Ogg looked worried.
“Supposing Magrat’d been here,” said Granny. “She’d see me being daft.”
“Well, she’s safe in the castle,” said Nanny. “Learning how to be queen.”
“At least the thing about queening,” said Granny, “is that no one notices if you’re doing it wrong. It has to be right ‘cos it’s you doing it.”
“S’funny, royalty,” said Nanny. “It’s like magic. You take some girl with a bum like two pigs in a blanket and a head full of air and then she marries a king or a prince or some-one and suddenly she’s this radiant right royal princess. It’s a funny old world.”
“I ain’t going to kowtow to her, mind,” said Granny.
“You never “Her mother was a Keeble, wasn’t she? Fine woman, as I recall.”
“Yeah, but when she died the old man sent her off to Sto Lat to school.”
57
Terry Pratchett
“Don’t hold with schools,” said Granny Weatherwaxkowtow to anyone anyway,” said Nanny Ogg patiently. “You never bowed to the old king. You barely gives young Verence a nod. You never kowtows to anyone ever, anyway.”“That’s right!” said Granny. “That’s part of being a witch, that is.”Nanny relaxed a bit. Granny being an old woman made her uneasy. Granny in her normal state of barely controlled anger was far more her old self.Granny stood up.“Old Toekley’s girl, eh?”“That’s right.”
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