Henri Rousseau war

Henri Rousseau warHenri Rousseau Two Monkeys in the JungleHenri Rousseau The WaterfallHenri Rousseau The Repast of the Lion
touched only the tip of the proverbial iceberg, it is important to acknowledge their efforts and agency, along with the simple fact that these communities, despite their grinding poverty, have valuable lives, warmth, generosity, and a resourcefulness that stretches far beyond the haphazard and purely individualistic, Darwinian sort spaces. The most recent is the "Dharavi Redevelopment Project" (DRP), which proposes to convert the slums into blocks of residential and commercial high rises. The DRP requires private developers to provide small flats (of about 250 sq. ft. each) to families that can prove they settled in Dharavi before the year 2000. In return for re-housing rportrayed in the film.Indeed, the failure to recognize this fact has already led to a great deal of damage. Government bureaucrats have concocted many ham-handed, top-down plans for "developing" the slums based on the dangerous assumption that these are worthless esidents, the developers obtain construction rights in Dharavi.

Thomas Cole Home in the Woods

Thomas Cole Home in the WoodsPierre Auguste Renoir At The TheatrePierre Auguste Renoir The Large BathersAlexandre Cabanel Phedre
Only to people!" shouted Rincewind. He drew his sword and, with a smooth overarm throw, completely failed to hit the troll. The blade plunged on into the heather at the side of the track.
There was thetrees at the roadside. The troll spun around and made a grab for Rincewind.
Then its sluggish nervous system brought it the message that it was dead. It looked surprised for a moment, and then toppled over and shattered into gravel (trolls being, their bodies reverted instantly to stone at the moment of death).
"Aaargh," thought Rincewind as his horse reared in terror. He hung on desperately as it staggered two-legged across the road and then, screaming, turned and galloped faintest of sounds, like the rattle of old teeth. The sword struck a boulder concealed in the heather - concealed, a watcher might have considered, so artfully that a moment before it had not appeared to be there at all. It sprang up like a leaping salmon and in mid-ricochet plunged deeply into the back of the troll's grey neck.The creature grunted, and with one swipe of a claw gouged a wound in the flank of Twoflower's horse, which screamed and bolted into the

Herbert James Draper Ulysses and the Sirens

Herbert James Draper Ulysses and the SirensHerbert James Draper LamiaHerbert James Draper Lament for IcarusGeorge Inness The Coming Storm
It's certainly had a lot of banging about, Pan," she whispered. "I hope it still works."
Pantalaimon flew down to her wrist, and sat there glowing while Lyra composed her mind. With a part of her, she found it "What will lorek do?"
"He intends to break into the palace and rescue you, in the face of all the difficulties."
She put the alethiometer away, even more anxious than before.
"They won't let him, will they?" she said to Pantalaimon. "There's too many of 'emremarkable that she could sit here in terrible danger and yet sink into the calm she needed to read the alethiometer; and yet it was so much a part of her now that the most complicated questions sorted themselves out into their constituent symbols as naturally as her muscles moved her limbs: she hardly had to think about them.She turned the hands and thought the question: "Where is lorek?"The answer came at once: "A day's journey away, carried there by the balloon after your crash; but hurrying this way.""And Roger?""With lorek."

Marc Chagall La Mariee

Marc Chagall La MarieePaul Gauguin Yellow ChristPaul Gauguin Where Do We Come FromPaul Gauguin The Yellow Christ
that, or one of the children managed to find his way there, open the door and the cages, and return to the front of the main building."
"And what are you doing to investigate?" she said. "No; on second thought, don't tell me. Please understand, Dr. Cooper, I'm guard could help your investigation? I merely mention that as a possibility. Where were the Tartars during the fire drill, by the way? I suppose you have considered that?"
"Yes, we have," said the man wearily. "The guard was fully occupied on patrol, every man. They keep meticulous records."
"I'm sure you're doing your very best," she said. "Well, there we are. A great pity. But enough of that for now. Tell me about the new separator."not criticizing out of malice. We have to be quite extraordinarily careful. It was an atrocious lapse to have allowed both alarms to be on the same circuit. That must be corrected at once. Possibly the Tartar officer in charge of the

Edward Hopper Cape Cod Morning

Edward Hopper Cape Cod MorningAmedeo Modigliani the Reclining NudeAlphonse Maria Mucha SummerAlphonse Maria Mucha Spring
Well, thought Lyra, there's an idea.
During the first part of the afternoon, Lyra and four other girls were tested for Dust. The doctors didn't say that was what measurements," the doctor explained. It was hard to tell the difference between these people: all the men looked similar in their white coats and with their clipboards and pencils, and the women resembled one another too, the uniforms and their strange bland calm manner making them all look like sisters.
"I was measured yesterday," Lyra said.
"Ah, we're making different measurements today. Stand on the they were doing, but it was easy to guess. They were taken one by one to a laboratory, and of course this made them all very frightened; how cruel it would be, Lyra thought, if she perished without striking a blow at them! But they were not going to do that operation just yet, it seemed."We want to make some

Edgar Degas Cafe Concert Singer

Edgar Degas Cafe Concert SingerEdgar Degas A Carriage at the RacesFrida Kahlo What the Water Gave Me
? What are they armed with?"
Lyra dutifully asked, and reported the answer:
"There's sixty men with rifles, and they got a couple of larger guns, sort of cannons. They got fire throwers too. And... Their daemons are all wolves, that's what it says."
That caused a stir among the older gyptians, those who'd campaigned before.
"The Sibirsk sledge, Lyra slipped away and spoke to the bear.
"lorek, have you traveled this way before?"
"Once," he said in that deep flat voice.
"There's a village near, en't there?"
"Over the ridge," he said, looking up through the sparse trees.regiments have wolf daemons," said one.John Faa said, "I never met fiercer. We shall have to fight like tigers. And consult the bear; he's a shrewd warrior, that one."Lyra was impatient, and said, "But Lord Faa, this ghost-I think it's the ghost of one of the kids!""Well, even if it is, Lyra, I don't know what anyone could do about it. Sixty Sibirsk riflemen, and fire throwers...Mr. Scoresby, step over here if you would, for a moment."While the aeronaut came to the

George Inness Coast Scene

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Knowing what kind of person you are. Take old Belisaria. She's a seagull, and that means I'm a kind of seagull too. I'm not grand and splendid nor beautiful, but I'm a tough old thing and I can survive anywhere and always find a bit of food she would ever grow up.

One morning there was a different smell in the air, and the ship was moving oddly, with a brisker rocking from side to side instead of the plunging and soaring. Lyra was on deck a minute after she woke up, gazing greedily at the land: such a strange sightand company. That's worth knowing, that is. And when your daemon settles, you'll know the sort of person you are.""But suppose your daemon settles in a shape you don't like?""Well, then, you're discontented, en't you? There's plenty of folk as'd like to have a lion as a daemon and they end up with a poodle. And till they learn to be satisfied with what they are, they're going to be fretful about it. Waste of feeling, that is."But it didn't seem to Lyra that

Leroy Neiman Chicago Key Club Bar

Leroy Neiman Chicago Key Club BarLeroy Neiman Chicago Board of TradeLeroy Neiman Casino
, first they never knew that I knew some kids what had been took. My friend Roger the kitchen boy from Billy Costa, and a girl out the covered market in Oxford. And another thing...My uncle, right, Lord Asriel. 1 heard them talking about his journeys to the North, and I don't reckon he's got anything to do with the "You better tell us what you did hear your uncle say that evening," said John Faa. "Don't leave anything out, mind. Tell us everything."
Lyra did, more slowly than she'd told the Costas but more honestly, too. She was afraid Gobblers. Because I spied on the Master and the Scholars of Jordan, right, I hid in the Retiring Room where no one's supposed to go except them, and I heard him tell them all about his expedition up north, and the Dust he saw, and he brought back the head of Stanislaus Grumman, what the Tartars had made a hole in. And now the Gobblers've got him locked up somewhere. The armored bears are guarding him. And I want to rescue him."She looked fierce and stubborn as she sat there, small against the high carved back of the chair. The two old men couldn't help smiling, but whereas Farder Coram's smile was a hesitant, rich, complicated expression that trembled across his face like sunlight chasing shadows on a windy March day, John Faa's smile was slow, warm, plain, and kindly.

Vincent van Gogh Field with Poppies

Vincent van Gogh Field with PoppiesHenri Matisse Blue Nude IIRobert Duval Emotional Dance
buy some patent-leather shoes, and then it was time to go back to the flat and check the flowers and get dressed.
"Not the and instantly became a polecat, arching his back against her little white ankle socks. Encouraged by this, Lyra said:
"But it won't be in the way. And it's the only thing I really like wearing. I think it really suits-"
She didn't finish the sentence, because Mrs. Coulter's daemon sprang off the sofa shoulder bag, dear," said Mrs. Coulter as Lyra came out of her bedroom, glowing with a sense of her own prettiness.Lyra had taken to wearing a little white leather shoulder bag everywhere, so as to keep the alethiometer close at hand. Mrs. Coulter, loosening the cramped way some roses had been bunched into a vase, saw that Lyra wasn't moving and glanced pointedly at the door."Oh, please, Mrs. Coulter, I do love this bag!""Not indoors, Lyra. It looks absurd to be carrying a shoulder bag in your it off at once, and come and help check these glasses...."It wasn't so much her snappish tone as the words "in your own " that made Lyra resist stubbornly. Pantalaimon flew to the floor

Tom Thomson the jack pine

Tom Thomson the jack pineTom Thomson Jack PineRodney White Nothing to Dream
Street and along to Hangman's Wharf, and down King George's Steps to a little green door in the side of a tall iron stove. Tony ate the rest of his pie and drank the sweet hot liquor without taking much notice of his surroundings, and the surroundings took little notice of him: he was too small to be a threat, and too stolid to promise much satisfaction as a victim.warehouse. She knocks, the door is opened, they go in, the door is closed. Tony will never come out-at least, by that entrance; and he'll never see his mother again. She, poor drunken thing, will think he's run away, and when she remembers him, she'll think it was her fault, and sob her sorry heart out. * * * Little Tony Makarios wasn't the only child to be caught by the lady with the golden monkey. He found a dozen others in the cellar of the warehouse, boys and girls, none older than twelve or so; though since all of them had histories like his, none could be sure of their age. What Tony didn't notice, of course, was the factor that they all had in common. None of the children in that warm and steamy cellar had reached the age of puberty.The kind lady saw him settled on a bench against the wall, and provided by a silent serving woman with a mug of chocolatl from the saucepan on the

Thomas Kinkade The Hour of Prayer

Thomas Kinkade The Hour of PrayerThomas Kinkade The Heart of San FranciscoThomas Kinkade Sweetheart Cottage II
to keep her in. Grumman sat steady and quiet; his daemon, wind-torn, clung firmly with her talons deep in the basket rim and her feathers blown erect.
"I'm going to take us down, Dr. Grumman," Lee shouted above the wind. "You should stand and be ready to jump clear. Hold only a minute before.
The basket was tossing and lurching so violently it was hard to tell if they were going down, and the gusts were so sudden and wayward that they might easily have been blown high into the sky without knowing; but after a minute or so Lee felt a sudden snag and the ring and swing yourself up when I call."Grumman obeyed. Lee gazed down, ahead, down, ahead, checking each dim glimpse against the next, and blinking the rain out of his eyes; for a sudden squall had brought heavy drops at them like handfuls of gravel, and the drumming they made on the gasbag added to the wind's howl and the lash of the leaves below until Lee could hardly even hear the thunder."Here we go!" he shouted. "You cooked up a fine storm, Mr. Shaman."He pulled at the gas-valve line and lashed it around a cleat to keep it open. As the gas streamed out of the top, invisible far above, the lower curve of the gasbag withdrew into itself, and a fold, and then another, appeared where there had been a bulging sphere

Paul Cezanne Flowers in a Blue Vase

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Serafina's knife swept across it. Will felt himself grow dizzy, and Lyra was restraining Pantalaimon, hare-formed himself in sympathy, who was bucking and snapping in her arms. The real hare fell still, eyes bulging, breast heaving, glanced at Will and saw that he knew what it ready. He held out his hand, and as Serafina daubed the steaming mixture on the bleeding stumps of his fingers he looked away and breathed in sharply several times, but he didn't flinch.
Once his open flesh was thoroughly soaked, the witch pressed some of the sodden herbs onto the wounds and tied them tight around with a strip of silk. And that was it; the spell was done., entrails glistening.But Serafina took some more of the decoction and trickled it into the gaping wound, and then closed up the wound with her fingers, smoothing the wet fur over it until there was no wound at all.The witch holding the animal relaxed her grip and let it gently to the ground, where it shook itself, turned to lick its flank, flicked its ears, and nibbled a blade of grass as if it were completely alone. Suddenly it seemed to become aware of the circle of witches around it, and like an arrow it shot away, whole again, bounding swiftly off into the dark.Lyra, soothing Pantalaimon

Amedeo Modigliani Reclining Nude

Amedeo Modigliani Reclining NudePierre Auguste Renoir Dance at Bougival IThomas Kinkade Mountain Paradise
encourage artists to embrace a natural process," he says.
With the exception of Milli Vanilli's, pop listeners have always been fairly indulgent about performers' ethics. It's hits that are getting used to hearing things dead on pitch, and it's changed their expectations."
Despite Randy Jackson's stock American Idol critique--"A little pitchy, dawg"--many beloved songs are actually off-pitch or out of tune. There's Ringo Starr on "With a Little Help from My Friends," of course, and just about every blues song slides into notes as opposed to hitting them dead on. Even Norah Jonesmatter, and the average person listening to just one pop song on the radio will have a hard time hearing Auto-Tune's impact; it's effectively deceptive. But when track after track has perfect pitch, the songs are harder to differentiate from one another--which explains why pop is in a pretty serious lull at the moment. It also changes the way we hear unaffected voices. "The other day, someone was talking about how Aretha Franklin at the Inauguration was a bit pitchy," says Anderson. "I said, 'Of course! She was singing!' And that was a talking. People

Herbert James Draper Ulysses and the Sirens

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all right," said Will quietly. "We aren't going to hurt you. Did the man with the knife do this?"
"Mmm," the old man grunted.
"Let's undo the rope. He hasn't tied it very well…" It was clumsily and hastily knotted, and it fell away quickly once Will had . "What's the bearer? What's that mean?"
"I hold the subtle knife on behalf of the Guild. Where has he gone?"
"He's downstairs," said Will. "We came up past him. He didn't see us. He was waving it about in the air."
"Trying to cut through. He won't succeed. When he—"seen how to work it. They helped the old man to get up and took him over to the shade of the parapet."Who are you?" Will said. "We didn't think there were two people here. We thought there was only one.""Giacomo Paradisi," the old man muttered through broken teeth. "I am the bearer. No one else. That young man stole it from me. There are always fools who take risks like that for the sake of the knife. But this one is desperate. He is going to kill me.""No, he en't," Lyra said

Leroy Neiman Willie Mays

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ran up to the children and pulled the first one back. It was a boy of about his own age, a boy in a striped T-shirt. As he turned Lyra saw the wild white rims around his pupils, and then the other children realized what was happening and stopped to look. Angelica and her little brother were there too, stones in hand, and all the children's eyes his breast and he cradled her close and stood to face the children, and Lyra thought for a crazy second that his daemon had appeared at last.
"What are you hurting this cat for?" he demanded, and they couldn't answer. They stood trembling at Will's anger, breathing heavily, clutching their sticks and their stones, and they couldn't speak.
But then Angelica's voice came clearly: "You ain' from here! You ain' from Ci'gazzeglittered fiercely in the moonlight.They fell silent. Only the high wailing continued, and then both Will and Lyra saw what it was: a tabby cat, cowering against the wall of the tower, its ear torn and its tail bent. It was the cat Will had seen in Sunderland Avenue, the one like Moxie, the one that had led him to the window.As soon as he saw her, he flung aside the boy he was holding. The boy fell to the ground and was up in a moment, furious, but the others held him back. Will was already kneeling by the cat.And then she was in his arms. She fled to

Lord Frederick Leighton The Garden of the Hesperides

Lord Frederick Leighton The Garden of the HesperidesLord Frederick Leighton The Fisherman and the SyrenLord Frederick Leighton Solitude
He was tired to his very bones. He had hitchhiked, and ridden on two buses, and walked, and reached Oxford at six in the evening, too late to do what he needed to do. He'd eaten at a Burger King and gone to a cinema to hide (though what the film was, he forgot even as he was watching it), and now he was walking along an endless road through the this road, and there was still no sign of open country.
He came to a large traffic circle where the road going north crossed the Oxford ring road going east and west. At this time of night there was very little traffic, and the road where he stood was quiet, with comfortable houses set back behind a wide expanse of grass on either side. Planted along the grass at the road's edge were two lines of hornbeam suburbs, heading north.No one had noticed him so far. But he was aware that he'd better find somewhere to sleep before long, because the later it got, the more noticeable he'd be. The trouble was that there was nowhere to hide in the gardens of the comfortable houses along

Amedeo Modigliani the Reclining Nude

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what his father had told you. But there was something else."
"I remember. He meant the Kingdom was over, the Kingdom of Heaven, it was all finished. We shouldn't live as if it mattered more than this life in this world, because where we are is always the most important place."
"He said we had tocheerful and kind and curious and patient, and we've got to study and think and work hard, all of us, in all our different worlds, and then we'll build..."
Her hands were resting on his glossy fur. Somewhere in the garden a nightingale was singing, and a little breeze touched her hair and stirred the leaves overhead. All the different bells of the city chimed, once each, this one high, that one low build something...""That's why we needed our full life, Pan. We would have gone with Will and Kirjava, wouldn't we?""Yes. Of course! And they would have come with us. But...”"But then we wouldn't have been able to build it. No one could if they put themselves first. We have to be all those difficult things like

Unknown Artist Ranson Apple Tree with Red Fruit

Unknown Artist Ranson Apple Tree with Red FruitUnknown Artist Spring is in the AirSalvador Dali The Great Masturbator
Ibe shaped like frogs or water beetles or slugs; they peeled off the bark of a long-fallen tree at the edge of a string-wood grove, pretending to have seen the two daemons creeping underneath it in the form of earwigs; Lyra made a great fuss of an ant she claimed to have trodden on, sympathizing with its bruises, saying its face was just like Pan's, asking in mock sorrow why it was refusing to speak to her.
But when she thought they were genuinely out of earshot, she said earnestly to Will, leaning close to speak quietly:your father again..."
"And we had to let them all out."
"Yes, we did. I'm so glad we did. Pan will be glad one day, too, when I die. We won't be split up. It was a good thing we did."
As the sun rose higher in the sky and the air became warmer, they began to look for shade. Toward noon they found themselves on the slope rising toward the summit of a ridge, and when they'd reached it, Lyra flopped down on the grass and said, "Well! If "We had to leave them, didn't we? We didn't have a choice really?""Yes, we had to. It was worse for you than for me, but we didn't have any choice at all. Because you made a promise to Roger, and you had to keep it.""And you had to speak to