Gustav Klimt Hygieia (II)Gustav Klimt Goldfish (detail)Salvador Dali Tiger
bits of fur and odd ends of tentacle, very much like a Greek meal. Another was slightly more successful and had begun to shamble uncertainly away before Esk caught it a crack on one of its five shins.
It flailed desperately as it fell and brought down another two.
By then the others had managed to lurch out of her way and stood watching from a distance.
Esk tribe of the K'turni, who invented it. It has no direct synonym, although the Cumhoolie word "squemt" ('the feeling upon finding that the previous occupant of the privy has used all the paper') begins to approach it in general depth of feeling. The closest translation is as follows:
The nasty little sound of a sword being unsheathed right behind one at just the point took a few steps towards the nearest one. It tried to move away, and fell over. They may have been ugly. They may have been evil. But when it came to poetry in motion, the Things had all the grace and coordination of a deck-chair. Esk glared at them, and took a look at the Disc in its glass pyramid. All the excitement didn't seem to have disturbed it a bit. She'd been able to get out, if this indeed was out and if the Disc could be said to be in. But how was one supposed to get back? Somebody laughed. It was the sort of laugh Basically, it was p'ch'zarni'chiwkov. This epiglottis-throttling word is seldom used on the Disc except by highly-paid stunt linguists and, of course, the tiny
Monday, March 9, 2009
Frida Kahlo Diego and I
Frida Kahlo Diego and IDouglas Hofmann ModelDouglas Hofmann Jessica sorts of places. Sto Lat, Pseudopolis . . . Ankh-Morpork, of course . . . ."
"But the river goes there," said Esk, reasonably. "Barges. The Zoons."
"Ah, yes," said the merchant, "but they charge high prices and they can't carry everything and, anyway, no one ?"
"Well, are they supposed to have little white worm things in them?"
"Fiftysev - what?" The merchant lowered his slate and stared at Esk, "What little worms?"
"Wriggly ones. White," added Esk, helpfully. "All sort of burrowing about in the middle trusts them much." "But they're very honest!" "Huh, yes," he said. "But you know what they say: never trust an honest man." He smiled knowingly. "Who says that?" "They do. You know. People," he said, a certain uneasiness entering his voice. "Oh," said Esk. She thought about it. "They must be very silly," she said primly. "Thank you, anyway." He watched her wander off and got back to his counting. A moment later there was another tug at his coat. "Fiftysevenfiftysevenfiftysevenwell?" he said, trying not to lose his place. "Sorry to bother you again," said Esk, "but those bale things ...." "What about them fiftysevenfiftysevenfiftyseven
"But the river goes there," said Esk, reasonably. "Barges. The Zoons."
"Ah, yes," said the merchant, "but they charge high prices and they can't carry everything and, anyway, no one ?"
"Well, are they supposed to have little white worm things in them?"
"Fiftysev - what?" The merchant lowered his slate and stared at Esk, "What little worms?"
"Wriggly ones. White," added Esk, helpfully. "All sort of burrowing about in the middle trusts them much." "But they're very honest!" "Huh, yes," he said. "But you know what they say: never trust an honest man." He smiled knowingly. "Who says that?" "They do. You know. People," he said, a certain uneasiness entering his voice. "Oh," said Esk. She thought about it. "They must be very silly," she said primly. "Thank you, anyway." He watched her wander off and got back to his counting. A moment later there was another tug at his coat. "Fiftysevenfiftysevenfiftysevenwell?" he said, trying not to lose his place. "Sorry to bother you again," said Esk, "but those bale things ...." "What about them fiftysevenfiftysevenfiftyseven
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Francois Boucher Venus Consoling Love
Francois Boucher Venus Consoling LoveFrancois Boucher The Toilet of VenusGustav Klimt The Virgin
was odd, because he wasn't very tall and there had always been plenty of room before, but he was certain that whatever happened had nothing to do with the blur of movement from the forge's darkest corner.
Somehow the events set the seal on the day. It became a broken crockery day, a day of people getting under each The two youngest boys looked up from where they were halfheartedly fighting under the table.
"She went out to the orchard," said Gulta. "Again."
"Go and fetch her in, then, and be off." other's feet and being peevish. Esk's mother dropped a jug that had belonged to her grandmother and a whole box of apples in the loft turned out to be moldy. In the forge the furnace went sullen and refused to draw. Jaims, the oldest son, slipped on the packed ice in the road and hurt his arm. The white cat, or possibly one of its descendants, since the cats led a private and their own in the hayloft next to the forge, went and climbed up the chimney in the scullery and refused to come down. Even the sky pressed in like an old mattress, and the air felt stuffy, despite the snow. Frayed nerves and boredom and bad temper made the air hum like thunderstorm weather. "Right! That's it. That's just about enough!" shouted Esk's mother. "Cern, you and Gulta and Esk can go and see how Granny is and -where's Esk?"
was odd, because he wasn't very tall and there had always been plenty of room before, but he was certain that whatever happened had nothing to do with the blur of movement from the forge's darkest corner.
Somehow the events set the seal on the day. It became a broken crockery day, a day of people getting under each The two youngest boys looked up from where they were halfheartedly fighting under the table.
"She went out to the orchard," said Gulta. "Again."
"Go and fetch her in, then, and be off." other's feet and being peevish. Esk's mother dropped a jug that had belonged to her grandmother and a whole box of apples in the loft turned out to be moldy. In the forge the furnace went sullen and refused to draw. Jaims, the oldest son, slipped on the packed ice in the road and hurt his arm. The white cat, or possibly one of its descendants, since the cats led a private and their own in the hayloft next to the forge, went and climbed up the chimney in the scullery and refused to come down. Even the sky pressed in like an old mattress, and the air felt stuffy, despite the snow. Frayed nerves and boredom and bad temper made the air hum like thunderstorm weather. "Right! That's it. That's just about enough!" shouted Esk's mother. "Cern, you and Gulta and Esk can go and see how Granny is and -where's Esk?"
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Leonardo da Vinci Head of Christ
Leonardo da Vinci Head of ChristJohn Singer Sargent A Dinner Table at NightLord Frederick Leighton Leighton Winding the SkeinWilliam Bouguereau Love Takes Flight
Spell stirred in his mind. He felt it trickle into his brain like iced water and brace itself. A cold tingle coursed down his arm.
His arm raised of its own volition, and he felt his own mouth opening and shutting and his own tongue moving as a voice that wasn't his, a voice that sounded old and dry, said syllables that puffed into the air like steam clouds.
Octarine fire the cobbles.
'Magic,' he mumbled excitedly, drunk with power. 'I did magic . . .'
'That's right,' said Twoflower soothingly.
'Would you like me to do a spell?' said Rincewind. He pointed a finger at a passing dog and said 'Wheeee!' It gave him a hurt look.
'Making your feet run a lot faster'd be favourite,' said Bethan grimly.flashed from under his fingernails. It wrapped itself around the horrified man until he was lost in a cold, spitting cloud that rose above the street, hung there for a long moment, and then exploded into nothingness.There wasn't even a wisp of greasy smoke.Rincewind stared at his hand in horror.Twoflower and Bethan each grabbed him by an arm and hustled him through the shocked crowd until they reached the open street. There was a painful moment as they each chose to run down a different alley, but they hurried on with Rincewind's feet barely touching
Spell stirred in his mind. He felt it trickle into his brain like iced water and brace itself. A cold tingle coursed down his arm.
His arm raised of its own volition, and he felt his own mouth opening and shutting and his own tongue moving as a voice that wasn't his, a voice that sounded old and dry, said syllables that puffed into the air like steam clouds.
Octarine fire the cobbles.
'Magic,' he mumbled excitedly, drunk with power. 'I did magic . . .'
'That's right,' said Twoflower soothingly.
'Would you like me to do a spell?' said Rincewind. He pointed a finger at a passing dog and said 'Wheeee!' It gave him a hurt look.
'Making your feet run a lot faster'd be favourite,' said Bethan grimly.flashed from under his fingernails. It wrapped itself around the horrified man until he was lost in a cold, spitting cloud that rose above the street, hung there for a long moment, and then exploded into nothingness.There wasn't even a wisp of greasy smoke.Rincewind stared at his hand in horror.Twoflower and Bethan each grabbed him by an arm and hustled him through the shocked crowd until they reached the open street. There was a painful moment as they each chose to run down a different alley, but they hurried on with Rincewind's feet barely touching
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Juan Gris Teacups
Juan Gris TeacupsJuan Gris Portrait of Josette GrisJuan Gris Pears and Grapes on a TableJuan Gris Guitar with Clarinet
'Keeping them up is easy,' said the druid, holding up a thumb and squinting down the length of his arm at a distant mountain, The hard part is landing.'
'You wouldn't think so, would you?' said Twoflower.
'Persuasion is what keeps the whole universe together,' said Belafon. 'It's no good saying it's all done by magic.'
Rincewind happened to glance down through the thinning cloud to a snowy landscape a considerable distance below. He knew he was in the presence of a madman, but he was used to that; if listening to this madman meant he stayed up here, he was all ears.
Belafon sat The druids of the Disc prided themselves on their forward-looking approach to the discovery of the mysteries of the Universe. Of course, like druids everywhere they believed in the essential unity of all life, the healing ower of plants, the natural rhythm of the seasons and the burning alive of anyone who didn't approach all this in the right frame of mind, but they had also thought long down with his feet dangling over the edge of the rock.'Look, don't worry,' he said. 'If you keep thinking the rock shouldn't be flying it might hear you and become persuaded and you will turn out to be right, okay? It's obvious you aren't up to date with modern thinking.''So it would seem,' said Rincewind weakly. He was trying not to think about rocks on the ground. He was trying to think about rocks swooping like swallows, bounding across landscapes in the sheer joy of levity, zooming skywards in a—He was horribly aware he wasn't very good at it.
'Keeping them up is easy,' said the druid, holding up a thumb and squinting down the length of his arm at a distant mountain, The hard part is landing.'
'You wouldn't think so, would you?' said Twoflower.
'Persuasion is what keeps the whole universe together,' said Belafon. 'It's no good saying it's all done by magic.'
Rincewind happened to glance down through the thinning cloud to a snowy landscape a considerable distance below. He knew he was in the presence of a madman, but he was used to that; if listening to this madman meant he stayed up here, he was all ears.
Belafon sat The druids of the Disc prided themselves on their forward-looking approach to the discovery of the mysteries of the Universe. Of course, like druids everywhere they believed in the essential unity of all life, the healing ower of plants, the natural rhythm of the seasons and the burning alive of anyone who didn't approach all this in the right frame of mind, but they had also thought long down with his feet dangling over the edge of the rock.'Look, don't worry,' he said. 'If you keep thinking the rock shouldn't be flying it might hear you and become persuaded and you will turn out to be right, okay? It's obvious you aren't up to date with modern thinking.''So it would seem,' said Rincewind weakly. He was trying not to think about rocks on the ground. He was trying to think about rocks swooping like swallows, bounding across landscapes in the sheer joy of levity, zooming skywards in a—He was horribly aware he wasn't very good at it.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Henri Matisse Interior with Phonograph
Henri Matisse Interior with PhonographHenri Matisse Decorative Figure on an Ornamental BackgroundHenri Matisse Blue Still LifeGeorges Seurat The Island of La Grande Jatte
we're the sacrifices," said Rincewind.
"Yes."
"I thought Fate didn't go in for that sort of bargaining. I thought Fate was implacable," said Rincewind.
"Normally, yes. But you two have been thorns in his side for some time. He specified that the sacrifices should be you. He allowed you to escape from the pirates. He allowed you to drift into the Circumfence. Fate can be one mean god at times."
There was a you," said the Lady. "But all I can do is give you one chance. Just one, small chance. The rest is up to you."
She vanished.
"Gosh," said Twoflower, after a while. "That's the first time I've ever seen a goddess."
The door swung open. Garhartra entered, holding a wand in front of him. Behind him were two guards, armed more conventionally with swords.pause. The frog sighed and wandered off under the table."But you can help us?" prompted Twoflower."You amuse me," said the Lady. "I have a sentimental streak. You'd know that, if you were gamblers. So for a little while I rode in a frog's mind and you kindly rescued me, for, as we all know, no-one likes to see pathetic and helpless creatures swept to their death.""Thank you," said Rincewind."The whole mind of Fate is bent against
we're the sacrifices," said Rincewind.
"Yes."
"I thought Fate didn't go in for that sort of bargaining. I thought Fate was implacable," said Rincewind.
"Normally, yes. But you two have been thorns in his side for some time. He specified that the sacrifices should be you. He allowed you to escape from the pirates. He allowed you to drift into the Circumfence. Fate can be one mean god at times."
There was a you," said the Lady. "But all I can do is give you one chance. Just one, small chance. The rest is up to you."
She vanished.
"Gosh," said Twoflower, after a while. "That's the first time I've ever seen a goddess."
The door swung open. Garhartra entered, holding a wand in front of him. Behind him were two guards, armed more conventionally with swords.pause. The frog sighed and wandered off under the table."But you can help us?" prompted Twoflower."You amuse me," said the Lady. "I have a sentimental streak. You'd know that, if you were gamblers. So for a little while I rode in a frog's mind and you kindly rescued me, for, as we all know, no-one likes to see pathetic and helpless creatures swept to their death.""Thank you," said Rincewind."The whole mind of Fate is bent against
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Andy Warhol Page from Lips Book
Andy Warhol Page from Lips BookAndy Warhol One Blue PussyAndy Warhol MarilynAndy Warhol Flowers Red 1964
Sometimes there was a brighter glow from a distant light-well.
What was odd, thought Twoflower as he strolled down a wide flight of stairs and kicked up billowing clouds of silver dust motes, was that the tunnels here were much wider. And better constructed, too. There were statues in niches horse face above him.
"What is your name, dragon?" said Twoflower.
I don't know.
"I think I shall call you Ninereeds."
That is my name, then.
They waded through the all-encroaching dust in a series set in the walls, and here and there faded but interesting tapestries had been hung. They mainly showed dragons - dragons by the hundreds in flight or hanging from their perch rings, dragons with men on their backs hunting down deer and, sometimes other men. Twoflower touched one tapestry gingerly. The fabric crumbled instantly in the hot dry air, leaving only a dangling mesh where some threads had been plaited with fine gold wire."I wonder why they left all this?" he said.I don't know said a polite voice in his head.He turned and looked up into the scaley
Sometimes there was a brighter glow from a distant light-well.
What was odd, thought Twoflower as he strolled down a wide flight of stairs and kicked up billowing clouds of silver dust motes, was that the tunnels here were much wider. And better constructed, too. There were statues in niches horse face above him.
"What is your name, dragon?" said Twoflower.
I don't know.
"I think I shall call you Ninereeds."
That is my name, then.
They waded through the all-encroaching dust in a series set in the walls, and here and there faded but interesting tapestries had been hung. They mainly showed dragons - dragons by the hundreds in flight or hanging from their perch rings, dragons with men on their backs hunting down deer and, sometimes other men. Twoflower touched one tapestry gingerly. The fabric crumbled instantly in the hot dry air, leaving only a dangling mesh where some threads had been plaited with fine gold wire."I wonder why they left all this?" he said.I don't know said a polite voice in his head.He turned and looked up into the scaley
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