Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Edmund Blair Leighton Stitching the Standard

Edmund Blair Leighton Stitching the StandardFrancois Boucher Nude on a SofaFrank Dicksee La Belle Dame Sans MerciBenjamin Williams Leader The Last Gleam, Wargrave on ThamesGustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger La Fille De Ferme
Ponder Stibbons, luckiest post‑graduate wizard in the history of the University, sauntered happily towards the secret entrance over the wall. His otherwise uncrowded mind was pleasantly awash with thoughts of beer and After a while the Lecturer in Recent Runes said, ‘That was young Stibbons, wasn’t it? Has he gone?’
‘I think so.’
‘He’s bound to say something to someone.’
‘No he won’t,’ said the Dean.maybe a visit to the clicks and maybe a Klatchian extra‑hot curry to round off the evening, and then–It was the second worst moment in his life.They were all there. All the senior staff. Even the Dean. Even old Poons in his wheelchair. All standing there in the shadows, looking at him very sternly. Paranoia exploded its dark fireworks in the dustbin of his mind. They were all waiting just for him.He froze.The Dean spoke.‘Oh. Oh. Oh. Er. Ah. Um. Um,’ he began, and then seemed to catch up with his tongue. ‘Oh. What’s this? Forward this minute, that man!’Ponder hesitated. Then he ran for it.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Andrea Mantegna The Adoration of the Shepherds

Andrea Mantegna The Adoration of the ShepherdsAndrea Mantegna St GeorgeThomas Moran Zion Valley, South UtahThomas Moran The Wilds of Lake SuperiorThomas Moran Sunset on the Moor
course, allowing for fault escarpments and uniclinal structures, and then‑‘
‘And general crustal shifting.’
‘All right, and then‑‘
‘Unless you’re just cutting and filling, of course.’
‘Granted, but‑‘
‘I don’t see’, Rock began, ‘that my face could be called‑‘
‘SHUT UP!’ screamed Soll. ‘Everyone shut up! SHUT UP! The next person who doesn’t shut up will never work in this town again! Understand? Do I make myself CLEAR? Right.’ He coughed, and continued in a more normal voice: ‘Very well. Now, I want it understood that this is a Breathtaking, Block‑busting Romantic film about a woman’s fight to save the‑‘ he consulted his clipboard, and went on valiantly, ‘‑everything she loves against the background of a World Gone Mad, and I don’t want any more trouble from anyone.’
A dwarf even though it was at‑ the same time only one quarter the size; the Unseen University was more baroque and buttressed; the Patrician’s Palace more pillar’d. Carpenters swarmed over a construction that, when it was finished, would make Ankh­Morpork look like a very indifferent copy of itself, except that the buildings in the original city were not, by and large, painted on canvas stretched over timber and didn’t have the dirt carefully sprayed on. Ankh‑Morpork’s buildings had to get dirty all by themselves.tentatively raised his hand.‘ ‘Scuse me?’‘Yes?’ said Soll.‘Why is it all Mr Dibbler’s films are set against the background of a world gone mad?’ said the dwarf.Soll’s eyes narrowed. ‘Because Mr Dibbler’, he growled, ‘is a very observant man.’ Dibbler had been right. The new city was the old city distilled. Narrow alleys were narrower, tall buildings taller. Gargoyles were more fearsome, roofs more pointed. The towering Tower of Art in Unseen University was, here, even taller and more precariously towering

Friday, March 27, 2009

Thomas Kinkade The Hour of Prayer

Thomas Kinkade The Hour of PrayerThomas Kinkade The Heart of San FranciscoThomas Kinkade Sweetheart Cottage IIThomas Kinkade Sunrise ChapelThomas Kinkade Streams of Living Water
exhaustion or scream of agony as an enraged parrot mistook a careless thumb for a nut.
The parrots weren’t the success they’d hoped for. It was true that they could remember what they heard and repeat . The dwarfs’ studio had shunned the general practice of putting the dialogue on cards between scenes and had invented sub-titles, which worked fine provided the performers remembered not to step too far forward and knock over the letters.
But if sound was missing, then the screen had to be filled from side to side with a feast for the eyes. The sound of hammering was always Holy Wood’s background noise, but it redoubled now . . .
The cities of the world were being built in Holy Wood. it after a fashion, but there was no way to turn them off and they were in the habit of ad-libbing other sounds they’d heard or, Dibbler suspected, had been taught by mischievous handlemen. Thus, brief snatches of romantic dialogue would be punctuated with cries of ‘Waaaarrrk! Showusyerknickers!’ and Dibbler said he had no intention of making that kind of picture, at least at the moment. Sound! Whoever got sound first would rule Holy Wood, they said. People were flocking to the clicks now, but people were fickle. Colour was different. Colour was just a matter of breeding demons who could paint fast enough. It was sound that meant something new. In the meantime, there were stop-gap measures

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Wassily Kandinsky Flood Improvisation

Wassily Kandinsky Flood ImprovisationVincent van Gogh Autumn LandscapeVincent van Gogh Le Moulin de la GaletteVincent van Gogh Farmhouse in ProvenceVincent van Gogh Wheat Field with Cypresses
hair hung over her eyes in ridiculous ringlets, and she wore a dress which, while clearly made for her size, was designed for someone who was ten years younger and keen on lace edging.
She was quite tree and fanned herself with her straw hat. ‘And it’s too hot,’ she complained. ‘And now I’ve got to do a ridiculous one-reeler for Silverfish, who hasn’t got the faintest idea. And some kid probably with bad breath and hay in his hair and a forehead you could lay a table on.’
‘And trolls,’ said Victor mildly.
‘Oh gods. Not Morry and Galena?’
‘Yes. Only Galena’s calling himself Rock now.’ attractive, although this fact was not immediately apparent. ‘And you know what they say when you complain?’ she demanded. This was not really addressed to Victor. He was just a convenient pair of ears. ‘I can’t imagine,’ said Victor politely. ‘They say, "There’s plenty of other people out there just waiting for a chance to get into moving pictures". That’s what they say.’ She leaned against a gnarled

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Paul Cezanne Apples Peaches Pears and Grapes

Paul Cezanne Apples Peaches Pears and GrapesLaurie Maitland Symphony in Red and Khaki IIWilliam Bouguereau YouthBill Brauer Salsa DancersUnknown Artist Pink Floyd Back Catalogue
Archchancellor reached the last page.
Eventually he said: ‘Ah. I see. Feel sorry for the lad, do you?’
‘I don’t think you quite see what I mean,’ said the Bursar.
‘Fairly obvious to me,’ said the Archchancellor. ‘Lad keeps coming within an ace of passin’.’ He pulled out one of the papers. ‘Anyway, it says here he passed three years ago. Got 91.’
‘Yes, .’
The Archchancellor drummed his fingers on the desk.
‘Can’t have this,’ he said. ‘Can’t have someone goin’ around almost bein’ a wizard and laughin’ at us up his, his – what’s it that people laugh up?’
‘My feelings exactly,’ purred the Bursar. Archchancellor. But he appealed.’ ‘Appealed? Against passin’?’ ‘He said he didn’t think the examiners had. noticed that he got the allotropes of octiron wrong in question six. He said he couldn’t live with his conscience. He said it would haunt him for the rest of his days if he succeeded unfairly over better and more worthy students. You’ll notice he got only 82 and 83 in the next two exams.’ ‘Why’s that?’ ‘We think he was playing safe, Master
‘We should send him up,’ said the Archchancellor firmly.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Piet Mondrian Composition with Red Yellow and Blue

Piet Mondrian Composition with Red Yellow and BluePiet Mondrian Composition 2Steve Thoms PoppiesEdvard Munch Puberty 1894Unknown Artist Heighton After Hours
'Scream.'
He climbed the dune again and, after brushing as much sand as possible off his clothing, stood up and waved his cap Teppic deflated again.
'Tortoises?' he said. 'Are we talking about those, you know, stones on legs?'
'That's right, that's right,' said Xeno. 'Take your eyes off them for a second, and vazoom!'
'Vazoom?' said Teppic. He knew about tortoises. There were tortoises in the Old Kingdom. They could be called a lot of things - vegetarians, patient, thoughtful, even extremely diligent and persistent sex-maniacs at the little crowd. An arrow took it out of his hands. 'Oops!' said the fat man. 'Sorry!' He scurried across the trampled sand to where Teppic was standing and staring at his stinging fingers. 'Just had it in my hand,' he panted. 'Many apologies, didn't realise it was loaded. Whatever will you think of me?' Teppic took a deep breath. 'Xeno's the name,' gasped the fat man, before he could speak. 'Are you hurt? We did put up warning signs, I'm sure. Did you come in over the desert? You must be thirsty. Would you like a drink? Who are you? You haven't seen a tortoise up there, have you? Damned fast things, go like greased thunderbolts, there's no stopping the little buggers.'

Friday, March 20, 2009

Jack Vettriano pincer Movement

Jack Vettriano pincer MovementJack Vettriano Picnic PartyJack Vettriano Only the deepest Red IIJack Vettriano Only the deepest Red IJack Vettriano One Moment in Time
short essay detailing their geographical location, political complexion, capital city or principal seat of government, and a suggested route into the bed- chamber of the head of state of your choice. However, in all the world there is only one Viper House. Good morning to you, boy.'
He turned away and homed in on another cowering pupil. 'He's not a bad sort,' said a voice behind Teppic. 'Anyway, all , with his head on one side and a faint smile on his face.
'Would you like it to stay there?' he said.

The baker was just along the alley, and a handful of the staff had stepped out into the comparative cool of the pre-dawn air for a quick smoke and a break from the desert heat of the ovens. Their chattering spiralled up to Teppic, high in the shadows, gripping a fortuitous window sill while his feet scrabbled for a purchase among the bricks.the stuffs in the library. I'll show you if you like. I'm Chidder. Teppic turned. He was being addressed by a boy of about his own age and height, whose black suit - plain black, for First Years - looked as though it had been nailed on to him in bits. The youth was holding out a hand. Teppic gave it a polite glance. 'Yes?' he said. 'What's your name, kiddo?' Teppic drew himself up. He was getting fed up with this treatment. 'Kiddo? I'll have you know the blood of pharaohs runs in my veins!' The other boy looked at him unabashed

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Thomas Kinkade Rose Gate

Thomas Kinkade Rose GateThomas Kinkade Paris City of LightsThomas Kinkade New HorizonsThomas Kinkade Mountain MemoriesThomas Kinkade Living Waters
Unusual breezes plucked at his clothing. There was a strange muttering in his ear, as though someone was-trying When he was on the rack of adolescence he'd been badly frightened by a Punch and Judy show, and since then had taken pains to avoid any organised entertainment and had kept away from anywhere where crocodiles could conceivably be expected. He'd spent the last hour enjoying a quiet drink in the guardroom.
'I said tie their hands, didn't I?' he snapped.
'Shall we gag them as well, cap'n?'
'But if you'd just listen, we're with the theatre—'
'Yes,' said the captain, shuddering. 'Gag them.' to talk to him but couldn't get the speed right. He stood rigid for a moment, getting his breath, and then fled for the door. 'But we're not witches!''Why do you look like them, then? Tie their hands, lads.''Yes, excuse me, but we're not really witches!'The captain of the guard looked from face to face. His gaze took in the pointy hats, the disordered hair smelling of damp haystacks, the sickly green complexions and the herd of warts. Guard captain for the duke wasn't a job that offered long-term prospects for those who used initiative. Three witches had been called for, and these seemed to fit the bill.The captain never went to the theatre.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Vincent van Gogh Ladies of Arles

Vincent van Gogh Ladies of ArlesSalvador Dali The Ecumenical CouncilSalvador Dali The Cellist Ricardo PichotSalvador Dali My Wife,NudeSalvador Dali Meditation on the Harp
river was in fact higher than some of the low lying areas and now, with the snow melt swelling the flow, many of the low-rent districts on the Morpork side were flooded, if you can use that word for a liquid you could pick up in a net. – Hwel could see the cressets burning all along the scaffolding as the hired craftsmen and even some of the players themselves refused to let the mere shade of the sky interrupt their labours.
New buildings were rare in Morpork, but this was even a new type of building.
The Dysk.
Vitoller had been aghast at the idea at first, but young Tomjon had kept at himThis sort of thing happened every year and would have caused havoc with the drains and sewage systems, so it is just as well that the city didn't have very many. Its inhabitants merely kept a punt handy in the back yard and, periodically, built another storey on the house.It was reckoned to be very healthy there. Very few germs were able to survive.Hwel looked across a sort of misty sea in which buildings clustered like a sandcastle competition at high tide. Flares and lighted windows made pleasing patterns on the iridescent surface, but there was one glare of light, much closer to hand, which particularly occupied his attention.On a patch of slightly higher ground by the river, bought by Vitoller for a ruinous sum, a new building was rising. It was growing even by night, like a mushroom

Monday, March 16, 2009

Mark Rothko Blue Green and Brown

Mark Rothko Blue Green and BrownAlfred Gockel Stroking the KeysAlfred Gockel Moved By The Music VWassily Kandinsky UpwardWassily Kandinsky In Blue
heard. Granny Weatherwax never made things up.
At the end of it she said, 'Well.'
'My feelings exactly.'
'Fancy that.'
'Quite so.'
'And what did the animals do then?'
'Went away. It had brought them there, it let them go.'
'No one et anyone else?'
'Not where I saw.'
'Funny thing.'
'Right a living idea. Made up of everything that's alive and what they're thinking. And what the people before them thought.'
Magrat reappeared and began to lay the fire with the air of one in a trance.
'I can see you've been thinking about this a lot,' saienough.'Nanny Ogg stared at the setting sun.'I don't reckon a lot of kingdoms do that sort of thing,' she said. 'You saw the theatre. Kings and such are killing one another the whole time. Their kingdoms just make the best of it. How come this one takes offence all of a sudden?''It's been here a long time,' said Granny.'So's everywhere,' said Nanny, and added, with the air of a lifetime student, 'Everywhere's been where it is ever since it was first put there. It's called geography.''That's just about land,' said Granny. 'It's not the same as a kingdom. A kingdom is made up of-all sorts of things. Ideas. Loyalties. Memories, It all sort of exists together. And then all these things create some kind of life. Not a body kind of life, more like d Nanny, speaking very slowly and carefully. 'And this kingdom wants a better king, is that it?'

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Jean Beraud La Rue de la Paix 1907

Jean Beraud La Rue de la Paix 1907Unknown Artist tango dancersUnknown Artist sweet breathUnknown Artist red backgroundUnknown Artist flower carrier
And froze as she heard the screams, and the thunder of horses, and the deadly whisper of arrows and the damp, solid sound.
'You'd have to be a born fool to be a king,' said Granny.
'Sorry?'
Granny turned. 'Didn't see you come in,' she said. 'What was it you said?'
'Sugar in your tea?'
'Three spoons,' said Granny promptly. It was one of the few sorrows of Granny Weatherwax's life that, despite of spears in flesh. Charge after charge echoed across her skull. Sword met shield, or sword, or bone -relentlessly. Years streamed across her mind in the space of a second. There were times when she lay among the dead, or hanging from the branch of a tree; but always there were hands that would pick her up again, and place her on a velvet cushion . . .Granny very carefully lifted the crown off her head – it was an effort, it didn't like it much – and laid it on the table.'So that's being a king for you, is it?' she said softly. 'I wonder why they all want the job?''Do you take sugar?' said Magrat, behind her

Friday, March 13, 2009

Edward Hopper Rocks and Sea

Edward Hopper Rocks and SeaEdward Hopper Railroad CrossingEdward Hopper Portrait of Orleans
thicker than any normal staff, mainly because of the carvings that covered it from top to bottom. They were actually quite indistinct, but gave the impression that if you could see them better you would regret it.
Albert brushed He felt properly dressed for the first time in two thousand years. It was a disconcerting feeling and caused him a second's reflection before he kicked aside the rag rug beside the bed and used the staff to draw a circle on the floor.
When the tip of the staff passed it left a line of glowing octarine, the eighth colour of the spectrumhimself down again and examined himself critically in the washstand mirror.Then he said, 'Hat. No hat. Got to have a hat for the wizarding. Damn.'He stamped out of the room and returned after a busy fifteen minutes which included a circular hole cut out of the carpet in Mort's bedroom, the silver paper taken out from behind the mirror in Ysabell's room, a needle and thread from the box under the sink in the kitchen and a few loose sequins scraped up from the bottom of the robe chest. The end result was not as good as he would have liked and tended to slip rakishly over one eye, but it was black and had stars and moons on it and proclaimed its owner to be, without any doubt, a wizard, although possibly a desperate one.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

warmth by volk

warmth by volkUnknown Artist James Wiens Birch Silhouette IPablo Picasso the dog
'Sorry?' said Mort.
'A demon brings blessing and good fortune on the man that helps it,' said the man. 'How may we be of assistance, O evil dogsbreath of the nether pit?'
'Well, I'm not very hungry,' said Mort, 'but if you know where I can get a fast horse, I could be in Sto Lat before sunset.'
The man rice in the folded middle pair of hands of the Offler statue (it would be gone in the morning) and stood back.
'Husband did say that last served a creature who was not there,' she said. 'He was impressed.'
Ten minutes later the man returned and, in solemn silence, placed a small heap of gold coins on the table. They represented enough purchase quite a large part of the city.
'He had a bag of them,' he said.beamed and bowed. 'I know the very place, noxious extrusion of the bowels, if you would be so good as to follow me.'Mort hurried out after him. The ancient ancestor watched them go with a critical expression, its jowls rhythmically chewing.'That was what they call a demon around here?' it said. 'Offler rot this country of dampness, even their demons are third-rate, not a patch on the demons we had in the Old Country.'The wife placed a small bowl of

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Jean Francois Millet The Gleaners

Jean Francois Millet The GleanersJean Fragonard The Swing 1767Salvador Dali meditative rose
Granny may or may not have been interested to learn that one of the ants was Drum Billet, who had finally decided to
chance.
"They say," she said, "that if you can find an ant on Hogswatch Day it will be very mild for the rest of the winter."block and tackle.
"I can't understand half the things Simon says," said Cutangle, "although some of the students get very excited about it.
"I understand what Esk says all right, I just don't believe it," said Granny. "Except the bit about wizards needing a heart."
"She said that witches need a head, too," said Cutangle. "Would you like a scone? A bit damp, I'm afraid."
"She told me that if magic gives people what they want, then not using magic can give them what they need," said Granny, her hand hovering over the plate. "Who says that?" said Cutangle. "Generally people who are wrong," said Granny. "I makes a note in my Almanack, see. I checks. Most things most people believe are wrong." "Like `red sky at night, the city's alight'," said Cutangle. "And you can't teach an old dog new tricks." "I don't think that's what old dogs are for," said Granny. The sugar lump had reached the gantry now, and a couple of ants were attaching it to a microscopic
"So Simon tells me. I don't understand it myself, magic's for using, not storing up.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Edgar Degas At the Races

Edgar Degas At the RacesEdgar Degas After the BathFrida Kahlo The Frame
Well?" he said, "What is the meaning of this outrage?"
"Is he towards the witch.
Without dropping her iridescent stare Granny raised a hand and deflected the flames towards the roof. There was an explosion and a shower of tile fragments.
Her eyes widened.
Cutangle vanished. Where he had been standing a huge important?" said Granny to Esk. "I, madam, am the Archchancellor! And I happen to run this University! And you, madam, are trespassing in very dangerous territory indeed! I warn you that - stop looking at me like that!" Cutangle staggered backwards, his hands raised to ward off Granny's gaze. The wizards behind him scattered, turning over tables in their haste to avoid the stare. Granny's eyes had changed. Esk had never seen them like this before. They were perfectly silver, like little round mirrors, reflecting all they saw. Cutangle was a vanishingly small dot in their depths, his mouth open, his tiny matchstick arms waving in desperation. The Archchancellor backed into a pillar, and the shock made him recover. He shook his head irritably, cupped a hand and sent a stream of white fire streaking

John Constable The White Horse

John Constable The White HorseJohn Constable The Hay WainJohn Constable Salisbury Cathedral
The occasional crackle or puff of steam signaled its passage through the earth. Apart from that there was silence, the loud hissing silence that comes after an ear-splattering noise, and after the actinic glare the room seemed pitch dark.
Eventually Granny crawled out from behind the table and crept as closely as she dared to the hole, which was still surrounded by a crust of lava. She jerked back as another cloud of superheated steam mushroomed up.
"They say there's dwarf mines under the Ramtops," she said inconsequentially. "My, but them little buggers is in for a surprise."
She "You've got to go where they can. Wizard school."
"But you said -"
Granny paused in the act of filling a jug from the water bucketprodded the little puddle of cooling iron where the kettle had been, and added, "Shame about the fireback. It had owls on it, you know." She patted her singed hair gingerly with a shaking hand. "I think this calls for a nice cup of, a nice cup of cold water." Esk sat looking in wonder at her hand. "That was real magic." she said at last, "And I did it." "One type of real magic," corrected Granny. "Don't forget that. And you don't want to do that all the time, neither. If it's in you, you've got to learn to control it." "Can you teach me?" "Me? No!" "How can I learn if no one will teach me?"

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Vincent van Gogh Fishing in Spring

Vincent van Gogh Fishing in SpringUnknown Artist Ranson Apple Tree with Red FruitUnknown Artist Spring is in the Air
how?"
Granny Weatherwax paused at the bottom of the stairs.
"Reluctantly."
Later, night fell gently as the last of the world's slow light flowed out of the valley, and a pale, rain-washed moon shone down in a night studded with stars. And in a shadowy orchard behind the forge there was the occasional impressive, especially when a storm had cleared the air. The valley occupied by Bad Ass overlooked a panorama of lesser mountains and foothills, coloured purple and orange in the early morning light that flowed gently over them (because light travels at a dilatory pace in the Disc's vast magical field) and far off the great plains were still a puddle of shadows. Even further off the sea gave an occasional distant sparkle.
In fact, from here you could see right to the edge of the world.clink of a spade or a muffled curse. In the cradle upstairs the world's first female wizard dreamed of nothing much. The white cat lay half-asleep on its private ledge near the furnace. The only sound in the warm dark forge was the crackle of the coals as they settled down under the ash. The staff stood in the corner, where it wanted to be, wrapped in shadows that were slightly blacker than shadows normally are. Time passed, which, basically, is its job. There was a faint tinkle, and a swish of air. After a while the cat sat up and watched with interest. Dawn came. Up here in the Ramtops dawn was always

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Andy Warhol Marilyn

Andy Warhol MarilynAndy Warhol Flowers Red 1964Andy Warhol Fiesta PigAndy Warhol dollar sign black and yellow on red
star people have closed all the inns. They said it's wrong to be eating and drinking when —'
'I know, I know,' said Cohen. 'I think I'm beginning to get the hang of it. Don't they approve of anything?'
Lackjaw was lost in thought for a moment. 'Setting fire to things,' he said at last. 'They're quite good at that. Books and stuff. They have these great big bonfires.'
the bonfire. It was in paper bounced in the hot air and floated away over the rooftops.
'What are you doing?' he said.Cohen was shocked.'Bonfires of books?''Yes. Horrible, isn't it?''Right,' said Cohen. He thought it was appalling. Someone who spent his life living rough under the sky knew the value of a good thick book, which ought to outlast at least a season ofif you were careful how you tore the pages out. Many ahad been saved on a snowy night by a handful of sodden kindling and a really dry book. If you felt like a smoke and couldn't find a pipe, a book was your man every time.Cohen realised people wrote things in books. It had always seemed to him to be a frivolous waste of paper.I'm afraid if your friends met them they might be in trouble,' said Lackjaw sadly as they walked up the street.They turned the corner and saw the middle of the street. A couple of star people were feeding it with books from a nearby house, which had its door smashed in and had been daubed with stars.News of Cohen hadn't spread too far yet. The book burners took no notice as he wandered up and leaned against the wall. Curly flakes of burnt

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Albert Moore Midsummer

Albert Moore MidsummerAlbert Moore IdyllAlbert Moore GardenAlbert Moore Apples
status of a fine art and cultivated a mind that was as bleak and pitiless and logical as the slopes of Hell.
And what was so strange was that each of the wizards, who had in the course of their work encountered many a fire-Trymon, not looking up.
'Burnt? But it was a priceless magical artifact, a genuine—'
'Just a piece of junk, I'm afraid,' said Trymon, treating him to a fleeting spitting, bat-winged, tiger-taloned entity in the privacy of a magical octogram, had never before had quite the same uncomfortable feeling as they had when, ten minutes late, Trymon strode into the room.'Sorry I'm late, gentlemen,' he lied, rubbing his hands briskly. 'So many things to do, so much to organise, I'm ure you know how it is.'The wizards looked sidelong at one another as Trymon sat down at the head of the table and shuffled busily through some papers.What happened to old Galder's chair, the one with the lion arms and the chicken feet?' said Jiglad Wert. It had gone, along with most of the other familiar furniture, and in its place were a number of low leather chairs that appeared to be incredibly comfortable until you'd sat in them for five minutes.'That? Oh, I had it burnt,' said

Monday, March 2, 2009

Peter Paul Rubens Hippopotamus and Crocodile Hunt

Peter Paul Rubens Hippopotamus and Crocodile HuntJohn William Godward Summer FlowersJohn William Godward Absence Makes the Heart Grow FonderJohn William Waterhouse In the Peristyle
personal spells of protection. Promotion was slow in a profession that traditionally bestowed long life, and it was accepted that younger wizards would frequently seek advancement via dead men's curly shoes, having previosly emptied them of their occupants. Besides, there was something disquieting about young Trymon. He didn't smoke, only drank boiled water, and Galder had the nasty suspicion that he was clever. He didn't smile often grimly, would have had the decency to put an exclamation mark on the end of a statement like that.
There was the faintest of pure sounds, high and sharp, like the breaking of a mouse's heart.
'What was that?' he said.
Trymon cocked his head.
'C sharp, I think,' he said.enough, and he liked figures and the sort of organisation charts that show lots of squares with arrows pointing :o other squares. In short, he was the sort of man who could use the word 'personnel' and mean it.The whole of the visible Disc was now covered with a shmmering white skin that fitted it perfectly.Galder looked down at his own hands and saw them covered with a pale network of shining threads that ollowed every movement.He recognised this kind of spell. He'd used them himself. But his had been smaller – much smaller.'It's a Change spell,' said Trymon. The whole world is being changed.'Some people, thought Galder

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Thomas Kinkade Conquering the Storms

Thomas Kinkade Conquering the StormsThomas Kinkade bloomsbury cafeEdward Hopper The Martha McKeen of WellfleetEdward Hopper Rocks and Sea
borne in mind by anyone outside the sum totality of the multiverse was that although the wizard and the tourist had indeed only recently appeared in an aircraft in mid-air, they had also at one and the same time been riding on that aeroplane in the normal course of things. That is to say: "while it was true that they had just appeared in this particular set of dimensions, it was also true that they had been living in them all along. It is at this point that normal language gives up, and goes and has a drink. saved itself by instantaneously unravelling its spacetime continuum back to a point where the surplus atoms could safely be accommodated and then rapidly rewinding back to that circle of firelight which for want of a better term its inhabitants were wont to call The Present. This had of course changed history - there had been a few less
The point is that several quintillion atoms had just materialized (however, they had not. See below) in a universe where they should not strictly have been. The usual upshot of this sort of thing is a vast explosion but, since universes are fairly resilient things, this particular universe