Leonardo da Vinci Madonna with YarnwinderLeonardo da Vinci Madonna LittaLeonardo da Vinci Female HeadLeonardo da Vinci Annunciation
certainly, I’ll have your whelk! How do we do it?
Volume!”
Nanny Ogg and Casanunda walked in silence back to the cave entrance and the flight of steps. Finally, as they stepped out into the night air, the dwarf said, “Wow.”
“It leaks out even up here,” said Nanny. “Very mackko place, this.”
“But I mean, good grief—“
“He’s brighter than 257
Terry Pratchett
all be over, and people’ll look up at the skyline at sunset and there he’ll be.”
Casanunda found himself turning to look at the sunset beyond the mound, half-imagining the huge figure she is. Or more lazy,” said Nanny.“He’s going to wait it out.”“But he was—““They can look like whatever they want, to us,” said Nanny. “We see the shape we’ve given ‘em.” She let the rock drop back, and dusted off her hands.“But why should he want to stop her?”“Well, he’s her husband, after all. He can’t stand her. It’s what you might call an open marriage.”“Wait what out?” said Casanunda, looking around to see if there were anymore elves.“Oh, you know,” said Nanny, waving a hand. “All thisiron and books and clockwork and universities and readingand suchlike. He reckons it’ll all pass, see. And one day it’ll
Friday, April 24, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Andrew Atroshenko What a Wonderful Life
Andrew Atroshenko What a Wonderful LifeAndrew Atroshenko Just for LoveEdward Hopper Two on the AisleEdward Hopper Corn Hill Truro Cape Cod
And now I shall circulate, so that people don’t talk and ruin your reputation,” said Casanunda, bowing and kissing Nanny Ogg’s hand.
Her mouth dropped open. No one had ever kissed her hand before, either, and certainly no one had ever worried about her “You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”
“What?”
“You could at least find out why Magrat isn’t down here.”
l i.e., far enough so’s not to look like you’re intruding on the conversa-tion, but close enough to get a pretty good idea of what is going on.
reputation, least of all Nanny Ogg.As the world’s second greatest lover bustled off to accost a countess. Granny Weatherwax—who had been watching from a discreet distance*—said, in an amiable voice: “You haven’t got the morals of a cat, Gytha Ogg.”“Now, Esme, you know that’s not true.”“All right. You have got the morals of a cat, then.”“That’s better.”Nanny Ogg patted her mass of white curls and won-dered if she had time to go home and put her corsets on.“We must stay on our guard, Gytha.”“Yes, yes.”“Can’t let other considerations turn our heads.”“No, no.”
And now I shall circulate, so that people don’t talk and ruin your reputation,” said Casanunda, bowing and kissing Nanny Ogg’s hand.
Her mouth dropped open. No one had ever kissed her hand before, either, and certainly no one had ever worried about her “You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”
“What?”
“You could at least find out why Magrat isn’t down here.”
l i.e., far enough so’s not to look like you’re intruding on the conversa-tion, but close enough to get a pretty good idea of what is going on.
reputation, least of all Nanny Ogg.As the world’s second greatest lover bustled off to accost a countess. Granny Weatherwax—who had been watching from a discreet distance*—said, in an amiable voice: “You haven’t got the morals of a cat, Gytha Ogg.”“Now, Esme, you know that’s not true.”“All right. You have got the morals of a cat, then.”“That’s better.”Nanny Ogg patted her mass of white curls and won-dered if she had time to go home and put her corsets on.“We must stay on our guard, Gytha.”“Yes, yes.”“Can’t let other considerations turn our heads.”“No, no.”
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Cao Yong GIRL WITH MUSICIAN
Cao Yong GIRL WITH MUSICIANCao Yong GARDEN SPLENDORCao Yong GARDEN BEAUTIES
Terry Pratchett
so menacingly at words like “vitamins” that she’d made an excuse to back out of the kitchen.
At the moment“Sorry?”
“What?”
“What?”
Finally Magrat got up and waited while Spriggins, purple in the face with the effort, moved her chair down toward Verence. She could have done it herself, but it wasn’t what queens did. she was making do with an apple. The cook knew about apples. They were big roasted floury things scooped out and filled with raisins and cream. So Magrat had resorted to stealing a raw one from the apple loft. She was also plotting to find out where the carrots were kept.Verence was distantly visible behind the silver candle-sticks and a pile of account books.Occasionally they looked up and smiled at each other. At least, it looked like a smile but it was a little hard to be sure at this distance.Apparently he’d just said something.Magrat cupped her hands around her mouth.“Pardon?”“We need a—“
Terry Pratchett
so menacingly at words like “vitamins” that she’d made an excuse to back out of the kitchen.
At the moment“Sorry?”
“What?”
“What?”
Finally Magrat got up and waited while Spriggins, purple in the face with the effort, moved her chair down toward Verence. She could have done it herself, but it wasn’t what queens did. she was making do with an apple. The cook knew about apples. They were big roasted floury things scooped out and filled with raisins and cream. So Magrat had resorted to stealing a raw one from the apple loft. She was also plotting to find out where the carrots were kept.Verence was distantly visible behind the silver candle-sticks and a pile of account books.Occasionally they looked up and smiled at each other. At least, it looked like a smile but it was a little hard to be sure at this distance.Apparently he’d just said something.Magrat cupped her hands around her mouth.“Pardon?”“We need a—“
Monday, April 20, 2009
Pablo Picasso BULLFIGHT DEATH OF THE TOREADOR La corrida
Pablo Picasso BULLFIGHT DEATH OF THE TOREADOR La corridaAlbert Bierstadt Quiet PondAlbert Bierstadt A Quiet lakeFabian Perez Waiting for the romance to come
Yes’m. But you’re going to be queen. So me mam told me
I was to be respectful,” said Millie, still curtsying nervously
“Oh. Well. All right, then. Where are my clothes?”
“Got ‘em here, your pre-majesty.”
“They’re not mine. And please stop going up and down all the time. I feel a bit sick.”
“The king ordered ‘em from Sto Helit special, m’m.”
“Did he, eh? How long ago?”
“Dunno, m’m.”
He knew I was Outside, on the battlements, the guard changed. In fact
43
Terry Pratchett
he changed into his gardening apron and went off to hoe the beans. Inside, there was considerable sartorial discussioncoming home, thought Magrat. How?What’s going on here?There was a good deal more lace than Magrat was used to, but that was, as it were, the icing on the cake. Magrat normally wore a simple dress with not much underneath it except Magrat. Ladies of quality couldn’t get away with that kind of thing. Millie had been provided with a sort of techni-cal diagram, but it wasn’t much help.They studied it for some time.“This is a standard queen outfit, then?”“Couldn’t say, m’m. I think his majesty just sent ‘em a lot of money and said to send you everything.” / They spread out the bits on the floor.“Is this the pantoffle?”
Yes’m. But you’re going to be queen. So me mam told me
I was to be respectful,” said Millie, still curtsying nervously
“Oh. Well. All right, then. Where are my clothes?”
“Got ‘em here, your pre-majesty.”
“They’re not mine. And please stop going up and down all the time. I feel a bit sick.”
“The king ordered ‘em from Sto Helit special, m’m.”
“Did he, eh? How long ago?”
“Dunno, m’m.”
He knew I was Outside, on the battlements, the guard changed. In fact
43
Terry Pratchett
he changed into his gardening apron and went off to hoe the beans. Inside, there was considerable sartorial discussioncoming home, thought Magrat. How?What’s going on here?There was a good deal more lace than Magrat was used to, but that was, as it were, the icing on the cake. Magrat normally wore a simple dress with not much underneath it except Magrat. Ladies of quality couldn’t get away with that kind of thing. Millie had been provided with a sort of techni-cal diagram, but it wasn’t much help.They studied it for some time.“This is a standard queen outfit, then?”“Couldn’t say, m’m. I think his majesty just sent ‘em a lot of money and said to send you everything.” / They spread out the bits on the floor.“Is this the pantoffle?”
Friday, April 17, 2009
Edward Hopper Morning in a City
Edward Hopper Morning in a CityEdward Hopper High NoonEdward Hopper Four Lane Road
were sitting in the Cenobiarch's garden. Far overhead an eagle circled, looking for anything that wasn't a tortoise.
"I like the idea of democracy. You have to have someone everyone distrusts," said Brutha. "That way, everyone's happy. Think about it. Simony?"
"Yes?"
"I'm making you head of the Quisition."
"What?"
"I want it stopped. And I want it stopped the hard way."
"You want me to kill all the inquisitors? Right!"
"No. That's the easy way. I want as few deaths as possible. Those who enjoyed it, perhaps. But only those. Now . . . where's Urn?"keep here."
"Plenty of room when we burn the Septateuch," said Simony.
"No burning of anything. You have to take a step at a time," said Brutha. He looked out at the shimmering line of the desert. Funny. He'd been as happy as he'd ever been in the desert.
"And then . . ." he began.
"Yes?"
Brutha lowered his eyes, to the farmlands and villages around the CitadelThe Moving Turtle was still on the beach, wheels buried in the sand blown about by the storm. Urn had been too embarrassed to try to unearth it."The last I saw, he was tinkering with the door mechanism," said Didactylos. "Never happier than when he's tinkering with things.""Yes. We shall have to find things to keep him occupied. Irrigation. Architecture. That sort of thing.""And what are you going to do?" said Simony."I've got to copy out the Library," said Brutha."But you can't read and write," said Didactylos."No. But I can see and draw. Two copies. One to
were sitting in the Cenobiarch's garden. Far overhead an eagle circled, looking for anything that wasn't a tortoise.
"I like the idea of democracy. You have to have someone everyone distrusts," said Brutha. "That way, everyone's happy. Think about it. Simony?"
"Yes?"
"I'm making you head of the Quisition."
"What?"
"I want it stopped. And I want it stopped the hard way."
"You want me to kill all the inquisitors? Right!"
"No. That's the easy way. I want as few deaths as possible. Those who enjoyed it, perhaps. But only those. Now . . . where's Urn?"keep here."
"Plenty of room when we burn the Septateuch," said Simony.
"No burning of anything. You have to take a step at a time," said Brutha. He looked out at the shimmering line of the desert. Funny. He'd been as happy as he'd ever been in the desert.
"And then . . ." he began.
"Yes?"
Brutha lowered his eyes, to the farmlands and villages around the CitadelThe Moving Turtle was still on the beach, wheels buried in the sand blown about by the storm. Urn had been too embarrassed to try to unearth it."The last I saw, he was tinkering with the door mechanism," said Didactylos. "Never happier than when he's tinkering with things.""Yes. We shall have to find things to keep him occupied. Irrigation. Architecture. That sort of thing.""And what are you going to do?" said Simony."I've got to copy out the Library," said Brutha."But you can't read and write," said Didactylos."No. But I can see and draw. Two copies. One to
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Tamara de Lempicka Two Friends
Tamara de Lempicka Two FriendsTamara de Lempicka The Green TurbanTamara de Lempicka Summer
echoes of his own soul. And out of the distant echoes he would forge a Book of Vorbis, and Brutha suspected he knew what the commandments would be. There would be talk of holy wars and blood and crusades and blood and piety and blood., and Om spoke to one of them.
It had never occurred to Brutha like that before.
Om had spoken to him. Admittedly, he hadn't said the things that the Great Prophets said he said. Perhaps he'd never said things like that . . .
He worked his way along to the end of the row. Then he tidied up the bean vines.Brutha got up, feeling like a fool. But the thoughts wouldn't go away.He was a bishop, but he didn't know what bishops did. He'd only seen them in the distance, drifting along like earthbound clouds. There was only one thing he felt he knew how to do.Some spotty boy was hoeing the vegetable garden. He looked at Brutha in amazement when he took the hoe, and was stupid enough to try to hang on to it for a moment."I am a bishop, you know," said Brutha. "Anyway, you aren't doing it right. Go and do something else."Brutha jabbed viciously at the weeds around the seedlings. Only away a few weeks and already there was a haze of green on the soil.You're a bishop. For being good. And here's the iron turtle. In case you're bad. Because . . .. . . there were two people in the desert
echoes of his own soul. And out of the distant echoes he would forge a Book of Vorbis, and Brutha suspected he knew what the commandments would be. There would be talk of holy wars and blood and crusades and blood and piety and blood., and Om spoke to one of them.
It had never occurred to Brutha like that before.
Om had spoken to him. Admittedly, he hadn't said the things that the Great Prophets said he said. Perhaps he'd never said things like that . . .
He worked his way along to the end of the row. Then he tidied up the bean vines.Brutha got up, feeling like a fool. But the thoughts wouldn't go away.He was a bishop, but he didn't know what bishops did. He'd only seen them in the distance, drifting along like earthbound clouds. There was only one thing he felt he knew how to do.Some spotty boy was hoeing the vegetable garden. He looked at Brutha in amazement when he took the hoe, and was stupid enough to try to hang on to it for a moment."I am a bishop, you know," said Brutha. "Anyway, you aren't doing it right. Go and do something else."Brutha jabbed viciously at the weeds around the seedlings. Only away a few weeks and already there was a haze of green on the soil.You're a bishop. For being good. And here's the iron turtle. In case you're bad. Because . . .. . . there were two people in the desert
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Paul Cezanne Still Life with Flowers and Fruit
Paul Cezanne Still Life with Flowers and FruitPaul Cezanne Still Life with Apples and OrangesPaul Cezanne Still Life with a Skull
Um. He hasn't got much of a sense of humor, either."
"You're Omnian, by the sound of it." Yes."
"Here to talk about the treaty?"
"I do the listening."
"And what do you want to know about gods?"
Brutha appeared to be listening.
Eventually he said: "How they start. How they grow. And what happens to them afterwards."
Didactylos put the tortoise into Brutha's hands.
"Costs money, that kind of thinking," he said.
"Let me know when we've used more than fifty-two obols' worth," said Brutha. Didactylos grinned.
"Looks like you can think for yourself," he said. "Got a good memory?"
"No. Not exactly a good one."
"Right? Right. Come on into the Library. It's got an earthed copper roof, you know. Gods really hate that sort of thing."
Didactylos of illusory words. Spotters' guides to invisible things. Wild thesauri in the Lost Reading Room. A library so big that it distorts reality and has opened gateways to all other lireached down beside him and picked up a rusty iron lantern.Brutha looked up at the big white building."That's the Library?" he said."Yes," said Didactylos. "That's why it's got LIBRVM carved over the door in such big letters. But a scribe like you'd know that, of course." The Library of Ephebe was-before it burned down-the second biggest on the Disc.Not as big as the library in Unseen University, of course, but that library had one or two advantages on account of its magical nature. No other library anywhere, for example, has a whole gallery of unwritten books-books that would have been written if the author hadn't been eaten by an alligator around chapter 1, and so on. Atlases of imaginary places. Dictionaries braries, everywhere and everywhen . . .
And so unlike the Library at Ephebe, with its four or five hundred
Um. He hasn't got much of a sense of humor, either."
"You're Omnian, by the sound of it." Yes."
"Here to talk about the treaty?"
"I do the listening."
"And what do you want to know about gods?"
Brutha appeared to be listening.
Eventually he said: "How they start. How they grow. And what happens to them afterwards."
Didactylos put the tortoise into Brutha's hands.
"Costs money, that kind of thinking," he said.
"Let me know when we've used more than fifty-two obols' worth," said Brutha. Didactylos grinned.
"Looks like you can think for yourself," he said. "Got a good memory?"
"No. Not exactly a good one."
"Right? Right. Come on into the Library. It's got an earthed copper roof, you know. Gods really hate that sort of thing."
Didactylos of illusory words. Spotters' guides to invisible things. Wild thesauri in the Lost Reading Room. A library so big that it distorts reality and has opened gateways to all other lireached down beside him and picked up a rusty iron lantern.Brutha looked up at the big white building."That's the Library?" he said."Yes," said Didactylos. "That's why it's got LIBRVM carved over the door in such big letters. But a scribe like you'd know that, of course." The Library of Ephebe was-before it burned down-the second biggest on the Disc.Not as big as the library in Unseen University, of course, but that library had one or two advantages on account of its magical nature. No other library anywhere, for example, has a whole gallery of unwritten books-books that would have been written if the author hadn't been eaten by an alligator around chapter 1, and so on. Atlases of imaginary places. Dictionaries braries, everywhere and everywhen . . .
And so unlike the Library at Ephebe, with its four or five hundred
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