Jack Vettriano The Last Great RomanticJack Vettriano The InnocentsJack Vettriano The Great Poet
dwarf. You have to know how to deal with people in this game.'
He came back and sat down beside the Librarian. The ape put a smaller bend in the pipe.
'What're you making?' said Glod.
'Gook‑oook‑OOKpicked up a piece of wood, gripped one end and began to strum.
'Ook?'
'That's right,' said Glod. 'The boy with the guitar.'
‘Eeek.'
The Librarian did a back somersault.
'Oookoook‑ooka‑ooka‑OOOka‑OOK!'
'I can see you're in the swing of it already,' said Glod.!''My cousin Modo is the gardener here,' said Glod. 'He says you're a mean keyboard player.' He stared at the hands, busy in the pipebending. They were big. And of course there were four of them. 'He was certainly partly right,' he added.The ape picked up a length of driftwood and tasted it.‘We thought you might like to play pianoforte with us at the Drum tonight,' said Glod. 'Me and Cliff and Buddy, that is.'The Librarian rolled a brown eye towards him, then
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Raphael The Sistine Madonna
Raphael The Sistine MadonnaWilliam Bouguereau BiblisWilliam Bouguereau Nymphs and Satyr.
up‑market. This was the only available direction.
There had been the Quizzing Device, a three‑ton water‑driven monstrosity based on a recently discovered design by Leonard of any day now. The Librarian, one of the tavern's regulars, had been collecting pennies in readiness.
There was a small stage at one end of the bar. The owner had tried a lunch‑time stripper, but only once. At the sight of a large orang-utan in the front row with a big innocent grin, a big bag of penny pieces and a big banana the poor girl had fled. Yet another entertainment Guild had blacklisted the Drum.
The new owner's name was Hibiscus Dunelm. It wasn't his fault. He really wanted to make the Drum, he said, a fun place. For two pins he'd have put stripy umbrellas Quirm. It had been a bad idea. Captain Carrot of the Watch, who had a mind like a needle under his open smiling face, had surreptitiously substituted a new roll of questions like: Were you nere Vortin's Diamond Warehouse on the Nite of the 15th? and: Who was the Third Man Who did the Blagging At Bearhugger's Distillery Larst wee‑k? and had arrested three customers before they caught on.The owner had promised another machine
up‑market. This was the only available direction.
There had been the Quizzing Device, a three‑ton water‑driven monstrosity based on a recently discovered design by Leonard of any day now. The Librarian, one of the tavern's regulars, had been collecting pennies in readiness.
There was a small stage at one end of the bar. The owner had tried a lunch‑time stripper, but only once. At the sight of a large orang-utan in the front row with a big innocent grin, a big bag of penny pieces and a big banana the poor girl had fled. Yet another entertainment Guild had blacklisted the Drum.
The new owner's name was Hibiscus Dunelm. It wasn't his fault. He really wanted to make the Drum, he said, a fun place. For two pins he'd have put stripy umbrellas Quirm. It had been a bad idea. Captain Carrot of the Watch, who had a mind like a needle under his open smiling face, had surreptitiously substituted a new roll of questions like: Were you nere Vortin's Diamond Warehouse on the Nite of the 15th? and: Who was the Third Man Who did the Blagging At Bearhugger's Distillery Larst wee‑k? and had arrested three customers before they caught on.The owner had promised another machine
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Bernhard Gutmann Study of a Woman in Black
Bernhard Gutmann Study of a Woman in BlackBernhard Gutmann Nude with DraperyPaul Klee The Rose GardenPaul Klee Red BallonPaul Klee Park of Idols
'Don't say anything,' she said. And it might be all right.'
After a while the to himself, had never been quite sure, as it were, where he fitted in.
This was probably not something he was going to write to his parents about. They almost certainly knew.
He slid out of bed. The room was stifling hot with the curtains drawn.
Behind him, he heard Angua roll over into the hollow left bedsprings went glink.And shortly after that, for Corporal Carrot, the Disc-world moved. And didn't even bother to stop to cancel the bread and newspapers. Corporal Carrot awoke around four a.m., that secret hour known only to the night people, such as criminals, policemen and other misfits. He lay on his half of the narrow bed and stared at the wall.It had definitely been an interesting night.Although he was indeed simple, he wasn't stupid, and he'd always been aware of what might be called the mechanics. He'd been acquainted with several young ladies, and had taken them on many invigorating walks to see fascinating ironwork and interesting civic buildings until they'd unaccountably lost interest. He'd patrolled the Whore Pits often enough, although Mrs Palm and the Guild of Seamstresses were trying to persuade the Patrician to rename the area The Street of Negotiable Affection. But he'd never seen them in relation
'Don't say anything,' she said. And it might be all right.'
After a while the to himself, had never been quite sure, as it were, where he fitted in.
This was probably not something he was going to write to his parents about. They almost certainly knew.
He slid out of bed. The room was stifling hot with the curtains drawn.
Behind him, he heard Angua roll over into the hollow left bedsprings went glink.And shortly after that, for Corporal Carrot, the Disc-world moved. And didn't even bother to stop to cancel the bread and newspapers. Corporal Carrot awoke around four a.m., that secret hour known only to the night people, such as criminals, policemen and other misfits. He lay on his half of the narrow bed and stared at the wall.It had definitely been an interesting night.Although he was indeed simple, he wasn't stupid, and he'd always been aware of what might be called the mechanics. He'd been acquainted with several young ladies, and had taken them on many invigorating walks to see fascinating ironwork and interesting civic buildings until they'd unaccountably lost interest. He'd patrolled the Whore Pits often enough, although Mrs Palm and the Guild of Seamstresses were trying to persuade the Patrician to rename the area The Street of Negotiable Affection. But he'd never seen them in relation
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Salvador Dali Galatea of the Spheres
Salvador Dali Galatea of the SpheresSalvador Dali GalarinaSalvador Dali Figure at a Window ISalvador Dali Corpus Hypercubus
sergeant and everyone,' said Cuddy.
'No . . . not even them. If d make everyone very . . . jumpy.'
'Just as you say, Corporal Carrot.'
'We're dealing with a sick mind here, men.'
Underground
Vimes dried himself off. Willikins had also laid out a dressing gown with brocade on the sleeves. He put it on, and wandered into his dressing room.
That was another new thing. The rich even had rooms for dressing in, and clothes light dawned on Cuddy.'Ah,' he said. 'You suspect Corporal Nobbs, sir?''This is worse. Come on, let's get back up.' He looked back towards the big pillar-barred cavern. 'Any idea where we are, Cuddy?''Could be under the Palace, sir.''That's what I reckoned. Of course, the tunnels go everywhere . . .'Carrot's worried train of thought faltered away on some distant track.There was water in the sewers, even in this drought. Springs flowed into them, or water filtered down from far above. Everywhere was the drip and splash of water. And cool, cool air.It would almost be pleasant were it not for the sad, hunched corpse of someone that looked for all the world like Beano the clown.
sergeant and everyone,' said Cuddy.
'No . . . not even them. If d make everyone very . . . jumpy.'
'Just as you say, Corporal Carrot.'
'We're dealing with a sick mind here, men.'
Underground
Vimes dried himself off. Willikins had also laid out a dressing gown with brocade on the sleeves. He put it on, and wandered into his dressing room.
That was another new thing. The rich even had rooms for dressing in, and clothes light dawned on Cuddy.'Ah,' he said. 'You suspect Corporal Nobbs, sir?''This is worse. Come on, let's get back up.' He looked back towards the big pillar-barred cavern. 'Any idea where we are, Cuddy?''Could be under the Palace, sir.''That's what I reckoned. Of course, the tunnels go everywhere . . .'Carrot's worried train of thought faltered away on some distant track.There was water in the sewers, even in this drought. Springs flowed into them, or water filtered down from far above. Everywhere was the drip and splash of water. And cool, cool air.It would almost be pleasant were it not for the sad, hunched corpse of someone that looked for all the world like Beano the clown.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Pierre-Auguste Cot La Tempete
Pierre-Auguste Cot La TempeteRaphael Saint George and the DragonGeorge Frederick Watts Sir GalahadGeorge Frederick Watts Love And Life
gate slammed shut.
Sergeant Colon turned to Nobby.
'Did exhibit A have a nose, Nobby?'
'Yes, Fred.'to you?' said Colon.
'No. It had a couple of holes in it.'
'Well, I don't know about noses,' said Colon, 'but either Brother Boffo is dead wrong or there's something fishy going on.'
'Like what?'
'Well, Nobby, you're what I might call a career soldier, right?'
' 'S'right, Fred.'
'How many dishonourable discharges have you had?'
'Lots,' said Nobby, proudly. 'But I always puts a poultice on 'em.'
'You've been on a lot of battlefields, ain't you?'
'Dozens.''Then what was that about?''Search me.' Nobby scratched a promising boil. 'P'raps he meant a false nose. You know. Those red ones on elastic? The ones,' said Nobby, grimacing, 'they think are funny. He didn't have one.'Colon rapped on the door, taking care to stand out of the way of any jolly amusing booby traps.The hatch slid aside.'Yes?' hissed Boffo.'Did you mean his false nose?' said Colon.'His real one! Now bugger off!'The hatch snapped back.'Mental,' said Nobby, firmly.'Beano had a real nose. Did it look wrong
Sergeant Colon nodded.
gate slammed shut.
Sergeant Colon turned to Nobby.
'Did exhibit A have a nose, Nobby?'
'Yes, Fred.'to you?' said Colon.
'No. It had a couple of holes in it.'
'Well, I don't know about noses,' said Colon, 'but either Brother Boffo is dead wrong or there's something fishy going on.'
'Like what?'
'Well, Nobby, you're what I might call a career soldier, right?'
' 'S'right, Fred.'
'How many dishonourable discharges have you had?'
'Lots,' said Nobby, proudly. 'But I always puts a poultice on 'em.'
'You've been on a lot of battlefields, ain't you?'
'Dozens.''Then what was that about?''Search me.' Nobby scratched a promising boil. 'P'raps he meant a false nose. You know. Those red ones on elastic? The ones,' said Nobby, grimacing, 'they think are funny. He didn't have one.'Colon rapped on the door, taking care to stand out of the way of any jolly amusing booby traps.The hatch slid aside.'Yes?' hissed Boffo.'Did you mean his false nose?' said Colon.'His real one! Now bugger off!'The hatch snapped back.'Mental,' said Nobby, firmly.'Beano had a real nose. Did it look wrong
Sergeant Colon nodded.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Caravaggio The Lute Player
Caravaggio The Lute PlayerCaravaggio The Inspiration of Saint MatthewCaravaggio The Fortune Teller
man who said "No More Kings".'
People were staring. Vimes' face went from the red of anger to the red of embarrassment. There was little difference in the shading, however.
'Oh . . . he was Commander of the City Guard in those days,' he mumbled. 'They called him Old Stoneface.'
'Never heard of him,Carrot. A fat old man. Surrounded by lots of children.'
'Oh yes,' said Vimes, carefully. 'He was very fond of children.'
Carrot waved at a couple of dwarfs.
'I didn't know this,' he said. 'I thought there was just some wicked rebellion or something.'
Vimes shrugged. 'It's in the history books, if you know where to look.'
And that was the end of the kings of Ankh-Morpork.'
'Oh, there was a surviving son, I think. And a few mad relatives. They we' said Carrot.'He, er, doesn't appear much in the history books,' said Vimes. 'Sometimes there has to be a civil war, and sometimes, afterwards, it's best to pretend something didn't happen. Sometimes people have to do a job, and then they have to be forgotten. He wielded the axe, you know. No-one else'd do it. It was a king's neck, after all. Kings are,' he spat the word, 'special. Even after they'd seen the . . . private rooms, and cleaned up the . . . bits. Even then. No-one'd clean up the world. But he took the axe and cursed them all and did it.''What king was it?' said Carrot.'Lorenzo the Kind,' said Vimes, distantly.'I've seen his picture in the palace museum,' said
man who said "No More Kings".'
People were staring. Vimes' face went from the red of anger to the red of embarrassment. There was little difference in the shading, however.
'Oh . . . he was Commander of the City Guard in those days,' he mumbled. 'They called him Old Stoneface.'
'Never heard of him,Carrot. A fat old man. Surrounded by lots of children.'
'Oh yes,' said Vimes, carefully. 'He was very fond of children.'
Carrot waved at a couple of dwarfs.
'I didn't know this,' he said. 'I thought there was just some wicked rebellion or something.'
Vimes shrugged. 'It's in the history books, if you know where to look.'
And that was the end of the kings of Ankh-Morpork.'
'Oh, there was a surviving son, I think. And a few mad relatives. They we' said Carrot.'He, er, doesn't appear much in the history books,' said Vimes. 'Sometimes there has to be a civil war, and sometimes, afterwards, it's best to pretend something didn't happen. Sometimes people have to do a job, and then they have to be forgotten. He wielded the axe, you know. No-one else'd do it. It was a king's neck, after all. Kings are,' he spat the word, 'special. Even after they'd seen the . . . private rooms, and cleaned up the . . . bits. Even then. No-one'd clean up the world. But he took the axe and cursed them all and did it.''What king was it?' said Carrot.'Lorenzo the Kind,' said Vimes, distantly.'I've seen his picture in the palace museum,' said
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Cao Yong MY BALCONY
Cao Yong MY BALCONYCao Yong LILY PONDCao Yong KOI PONDCao Yong GIRL WITH MUSICIANCao Yong GARDEN SPLENDOR
She never told me about it,” said Granny, with her usual ability to read Nanny’s expression through the back of her own head.
She leaned closer to Jason, almost hanging from the
plunging beast. “The price for being able to shoe anything,
anything that anyone brings you ... is having to shoe any-
thing anyone brings you. The price for being the best is
always . . . having to be the best. And you pays it, same as
me.”
The unicorn kicked several inches of timber out of the
door just get that forge hot.”
“But if I nail iron to it I’ll—“
“Did I say anything about iron?”
The hom took a stone out of the wall a foot from Jason’s head. He gave in.frame.“But iron—“ said Jason. “And nails—““Yes?”“Iron’11 kill it,” said Jason. “If I nail iron to ‘n, I’ll kill ‘n. Killing’s not part of it. I’ve never killed anything. I was up all night with that ant, it never felt a thing. I won’t hurt a liv-ing thing that never done me no harm.”509Terry Pratchett“Did you get that stuff from my dresser, Gytha?”“Yes, Esme.”“Bring it in here, then. And you, Jason, you
She never told me about it,” said Granny, with her usual ability to read Nanny’s expression through the back of her own head.
She leaned closer to Jason, almost hanging from the
plunging beast. “The price for being able to shoe anything,
anything that anyone brings you ... is having to shoe any-
thing anyone brings you. The price for being the best is
always . . . having to be the best. And you pays it, same as
me.”
The unicorn kicked several inches of timber out of the
door just get that forge hot.”
“But if I nail iron to it I’ll—“
“Did I say anything about iron?”
The hom took a stone out of the wall a foot from Jason’s head. He gave in.frame.“But iron—“ said Jason. “And nails—““Yes?”“Iron’11 kill it,” said Jason. “If I nail iron to ‘n, I’ll kill ‘n. Killing’s not part of it. I’ve never killed anything. I was up all night with that ant, it never felt a thing. I won’t hurt a liv-ing thing that never done me no harm.”509Terry Pratchett“Did you get that stuff from my dresser, Gytha?”“Yes, Esme.”“Bring it in here, then. And you, Jason, you
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