Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Jack Vettriano Girls' Night

Jack Vettriano Girls' NightJack Vettriano Ghosts From The PastJack Vettriano Games of Power
That had hardly begun to fill the space. After a while he'd added: BORN TO, and left a space because he wasn't quite sure what he'd been born to. BORN TO EAT BIG DINNERS wouldn't be appropriate.
After some more bemused thought he'd gone on to: LIVE FATS DIE YO GNU. It wasn't quite right, he could see; he'd turned the sight, and not just because of the natural look of students. Here were some people who, while this damn music was making everyone tap their feet, had stayed in­doors all night ‑ working.
'What are you lot doing in here?' he said. 'You . . . what's your name?'
The student wizard pinned by Ridcully's pointing finger squirmed anxiously.
'Er. Um. Big Mad Drongo,' he said, twisting the brim of his hat in his hands.
'Big. Mad. Drongo,' said Ridcully. 'That's your name, is it? That's what you've got sewn on your vest?'
'Um. No, Archchancellor.'
'It is...?'material over while he was making the holes for the studs and had sort of lost track of which direction he was going.Of course, it didn't matter which direction you went, just so long as you went. That's what music with rocks in it was all about . . .]. . . 'And Recent Runes is in his room playing drums, and the rest of them have all got guitars, and what the Bursar's done to the bottom of his robe is really strange,' said Ridcully. 'And the Librarian's wandering around the place pinchin' stuff and no‑one listens to a word I say.'He stared at the students. It was a worrying

Monday, May 11, 2009

Henri Matisse Woman with a Hat

Henri Matisse Woman with a HatHenri Matisse The WindowHenri Matisse The Green LineHenri Matisse Red FishHenri Matisse Pink Nude
hesitated.
He lowered his hands and pulled out all the rest of the stops, including the twelve knobs with '?' on them and the two with faded labels warning in several languages that they were on no account to be touched, .ever, in any circumstances.
He raised his'Would you believe four beats to the bar, two‑four time, melody led, with the bass beat forward in the melody?'
'What's all dat?' said Lias. 'What's all dem words mean?'
'You're a musician, ain't you?' said Glod. 'What do you think you do?'
'I hits 'em with de hammers,' said Lias, one of nature's drummers.
'But that bit you did . . .' said Imp, 'you know . hands.He raised his feet also, positioning them over some of the more perilous pedals.He shut his eyes.He sat for a moment in contemplative silence, a test pilot ready to slit the edge of the envelope in the starship Melody.He let the plangent memory of the music fill his head and flow down his arms and fill his fingers.His hands dropped.'What did we do? What did we do?' said Imp. Excitement ran its barefoot races up and down his spine.They were sitting in the tiny cramped room behind the bar.Glod took off his helmet and wiped the inside.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Lombard Street

Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Lombard StreetThomas Kinkade Rose GateThomas Kinkade Paris City of Lights
eyes upwards, to the dog that was gripping him.
'Gaspode? Is that you?'
'Yeff,' said Gaspode, his mouth full.
There was hardly any weight to the poodle but, then, there was hardly any weight to Gaspode. He'd darted forward and braced his The gutter creaked again.
It's going to go, he thought. Story of my life . . .
Big Fido struggled around.
'What are you holding me up by?'
'Yer collar,' said Gaspode, through his teeth.legs to take the strain, but there was nothing much to brace them against. He slid down inexorably until his front legs were in the gutter, which began to creak.Gaspode had an amazingly clear view of the street, three storeys down.'Oh, hell!' said Gaspode.Jaws gripped his tail.'Let him go,' said Angua indistinctly.Gaspode tried to shake his head.'Stop ftruggling!' he said, out of the corner of his mouth. 'Brave Dog Faves the Day! Valiant Hound in Wooftop Wefcue! No!'

Monday, May 4, 2009

Pop art art on fire

Pop art art on firePop art another lazy afternoonPop art trane in blue
, I know it's a bit cheeky,' said Carrot, 'but I've always been very interested in Guild customs . . . so . . . do you think someone could show me your museum?'
'Sorry? What Colon tried to see a message in Carrot's face. He'd got used to simple Carrot. Complicated Carrot was as unnerving as being savaged by a duck.
'We'll, er, we'll just be going, then, shall we?' he said.
'No point in staying here now it's all settled,' said Carrot, mugging museum?''The clown museum?''Oh, you mean the Hall of Faces. That's not a museum. Of course. Nothing secret about it. Boffo, make a note. We'd be happy to show you around any time, corporal.''Thank you very much, Dr Whiteface.'Any time.''I'm just going off duty,' said Carrot. 'Right now would be nice. Since I happen to be here.''You can't go off duty when— ow!' said Colon.'Sorry, sergeant?''You kicked me!''I accidentally trod on your sandal, sergeant. I'm sorry.'

Pop art chuck berry on pink

Pop art chuck berry on pinkPop art brown in goldPop art billie on black
Whiteface tried to look panicky, but this did not work very well under a mouth painted into a wide grin.
'What? No! I , Dr Whiteface. I can see this must have been a great strain on you.'
The clown was limp with relief.
'Don't mention it. Don't mention it. Happy to help. I know you have your job to do.'
He ushered them down the stairs and into the courtyard, bubbling with small talk now. The rest of the Watch clanked to attention.
'Actually . . .' said Carrot, just as he was being ushered out of the gate, 'there is one thing you could do.'
'Of course, of course.'mean – if an Assassin broke into our Guild, I mean, not on proper business, and stole something, well, we'd definitely consider we were within our rights to, well—''Pour jelly into his shirt?' said Angua.'Hit him around the head with a bladder on a stick?' said Colon.'Possibly.''Each Guild to their own, of course,' said Carrot. 'I suggest we might as well be going, sergeant. Nothing more for us to do here. Sorry to have troubled you

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

William Bouguereau Rest

William Bouguereau RestWilliam Bouguereau The Rapture of PsycheWilliam Bouguereau Cupid and Psyche as ChildrenWilliam Bouguereau Charity
'My cartoons,The Patrician played with it for a while.
'What's the glue made of?'
'Boiled slugs.'
The Patrician pulled the paper off one hand. It stuck to the other hand.
'Is that what you came to see me about?' said Leonard.
'No. I came to talk to you,' said Lord Vetinari, 'about the gonne.'
'Oh, dear. I'm very sorry.'
'I am afraid it has . . . escaped.'' said Leonard.'This is a good one of the little boy with his kite stuck in a tree,' said Lord Vetinari.'Thank you. May I make you some tea? I'm afraid I don't see many people these days, apart from the man who oils the hinges.''I've come to . . .'The Patrician stopped and prodded at one of the drawings.'There's a piece of yellow paper stuck to this one,' he said, suspiciously. He pulled at it. It came away from the drawing with a faint sucking noise, and then stuck to his fingers. On the note, in Leonard's crabby backward script, were the words: 'krow ot smees sihT: omeM'.'Oh, I'm rather pleased with that,' said Leonard. 'I call it my "Handy-note-scribbling-piece-of-paper-with-glue-that-comes-unstuck-when-you-want".'

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Rene Magritte The Big Family

Rene Magritte The Big FamilyRene Magritte PrimevereRene Magritte Personal ValuesRene Magritte Dangerous Liaisons
monochrome them into contact with animals. They wore scent or aftershave a lot and tended to be very fastidious about their food. And kept diaries with the phases of the moon carefully marked in red ink.
It was no life, being a werewolf in the country. Abackground against which the sounds and, yes, the smells seared like brilliant lines of . . . coloured fire and clouds of . . . well, of coloured smoke.That was the point. That was where it all broke down. There were no proper words afterwards for what she heard and smelled. If you could see an eighth distinct colour just for a while, and then describe it back in the seven-coloured world, it'd have to be . . . 'something like a sort of greenish-purple'. Experience did not cross over well between species.Sometimes, although not very often, Angua thought she was very lucky to get to see both worlds. And there was always twenty minutes after a Change when all the senses were heightened, so that the world glowed in every sensory spectrum like a rainbow. It was nearly worth it just for that.There were varieties of werewolf. Some people merely had to shave every hour and wear a hat to cover the ears. They could pass for nearly normal.But she could recognize them, nevertheless. Werewolves could spot another werewolf across a crowded street. There was something about the eyes. And, of course, if you had time, there were all sorts of other clues. Werewolves tended to live alone and take jobs that didn't bring