Vincent van Gogh On the Outskirts of ParisVincent van Gogh Ladies of ArlesSalvador Dali The Ecumenical CouncilSalvador Dali The Cellist Ricardo PichotSalvador Dali My Wife,Nude
make itself heard for a long time rang out in the silence.
Supposing there was somewhere where reality was a little thinner than usual? And supposing you did a fog around the picture throwing box, blurring its outline.
He snatched at the spinning handle. It resisted for a moment, and then broke. He gently pushed Bezam off his chair, picked it up and hit the throwing box with it. The chair exploded into splinters. He opened the cage at the back and took out the salamanders, and still the film danced on the distant screen.
The building shook again.something there that weakened reality even more. Books wouldn’t do it. Even ordinary theatre wouldn’t do it, because in your heart you knew it was just people in funny clothes on a stage. But Holy Wood went straight from the eye into the brain. In your heart you thought it was real. The clicks would do it.That was what was under Holy Wood Hill. The people of the old city had used the hole in reality for entertainment. And then the Things had found them.And now people were doing it again. It was like learning to juggle lighted torches in a firework factory. And the Things had been waiting . . .But why was it still happening? He’d stopped Ginger.The film clicked on. There seemed to be
2009年3月31日星期二
2009年3月29日星期日
Andy Warhol One Blue Pussy
Andy Warhol One Blue PussyAndy Warhol MarilynAndy Warhol Flowers Red 1964Andy Warhol Fiesta PigAndy Warhol dollar sign black and yellow on red
Gaspode and Laddie led the way through the alleys and up a rickety outside staircase. Maybe they smelled out Ginger’s room. Victor wasn’t going to argue with mysterious animal senses.
Victor went up the back stairs as quietly as possible. He was dimly aware that where people stayed was often infested by the - and his own stared at him from every angle.
There was a large mirror at one end of the poky room, and a couple of half-burned candles in front of him.
Victor deposited the girl carefully on the narrow bed and then stared around him, very carefully. His sixth, seventh and eighth senses were screaming at him. He was in a place of magic.
‘It’s like a sort of temple,’ he said. ‘A temple to . . . herself.’ Common or Greatly Suspicious Landlady, and he felt that he had enough problems as it was. He used Ginger’s feet to push open the door. It was a small room, low-ceilinged and furnished with the sad, washed-out furniture found in rented rooms across the multiverse. At least, that’s how it had started out. What it was furnished with now was Ginger. She had saved every poster. Even those from early clicks, when she was just in very small print as A Girl. They were thumb-tacked to the walls. Ginger’s face
Gaspode and Laddie led the way through the alleys and up a rickety outside staircase. Maybe they smelled out Ginger’s room. Victor wasn’t going to argue with mysterious animal senses.
Victor went up the back stairs as quietly as possible. He was dimly aware that where people stayed was often infested by the - and his own stared at him from every angle.
There was a large mirror at one end of the poky room, and a couple of half-burned candles in front of him.
Victor deposited the girl carefully on the narrow bed and then stared around him, very carefully. His sixth, seventh and eighth senses were screaming at him. He was in a place of magic.
‘It’s like a sort of temple,’ he said. ‘A temple to . . . herself.’ Common or Greatly Suspicious Landlady, and he felt that he had enough problems as it was. He used Ginger’s feet to push open the door. It was a small room, low-ceilinged and furnished with the sad, washed-out furniture found in rented rooms across the multiverse. At least, that’s how it had started out. What it was furnished with now was Ginger. She had saved every poster. Even those from early clicks, when she was just in very small print as A Girl. They were thumb-tacked to the walls. Ginger’s face
2009年3月27日星期五
Claude Monet The Road Bridge at Argenteuil
Claude Monet The Road Bridge at ArgenteuilClaude Monet The Bridge at ArgenteuilClaude Monet Spring 1880Claude Monet Snow at ArgenteuilClaude Monet Houses of Parliament London
you ought to be now is here.’ He looked at them again, and then industriously scratched an ear.
‘What the hell,’ he said. ‘The trouble is, I can explain it in Dog but you only listen in Human.’
‘It sounds a bit mystical to me,’ said Ginger.
‘You said something about my eyes,’ said Victor.
‘Yeah, ‘You should know.’
‘There you are, then,’ said Gaspode. ‘And you look at Dibbler next time you see him. Really look, I mean.’
Victor rubbed his eyes, which were beginning to water. ‘It’s as though Holy Wood has called us here, is doing something to us and has, has-’ well. Have you looked at your own eyes?’ Gaspode nodded at Ginger. ‘You too, miss.’ ‘Don’t be daft,’ said Victor. ‘How can we look at our own eyes?’ Gaspode shrugged. ‘You could look at each other’s,’ he suggested. They automatically turned to face each other. There was a long drawn-out moment. Gaspode employed it to urinate noisily against a tent peg. Eventually Victor said, ‘Wow.’ Ginger said, ‘Mine, too?’ ‘Yes. Doesn’t it hurt?’
you ought to be now is here.’ He looked at them again, and then industriously scratched an ear.
‘What the hell,’ he said. ‘The trouble is, I can explain it in Dog but you only listen in Human.’
‘It sounds a bit mystical to me,’ said Ginger.
‘You said something about my eyes,’ said Victor.
‘Yeah, ‘You should know.’
‘There you are, then,’ said Gaspode. ‘And you look at Dibbler next time you see him. Really look, I mean.’
Victor rubbed his eyes, which were beginning to water. ‘It’s as though Holy Wood has called us here, is doing something to us and has, has-’ well. Have you looked at your own eyes?’ Gaspode nodded at Ginger. ‘You too, miss.’ ‘Don’t be daft,’ said Victor. ‘How can we look at our own eyes?’ Gaspode shrugged. ‘You could look at each other’s,’ he suggested. They automatically turned to face each other. There was a long drawn-out moment. Gaspode employed it to urinate noisily against a tent peg. Eventually Victor said, ‘Wow.’ Ginger said, ‘Mine, too?’ ‘Yes. Doesn’t it hurt?’
2009年3月25日星期三
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres Mme Moitessier
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres Mme MoitessierJean Auguste Dominique Ingres La Grande baigneuseGuido Reni Archangel MichaelGuido Reni The Archangel MichaelGuido Reni Salome with the head of St John the Baptist
carpentry was out. It sounded too much like hard work. He’d tried it once, and wood and him had soon reached dispirited way of sagging while remaining upright that they might have been specially-evolved descendants of the original prehistoric queuers.
At the gate was a large, heavy-set man, who was eyeing the queue with the smug look of minor power-wielders everywhere.
‘Excuse me–’ Victor began. an agreement – he wouldn’t touch it, and it wouldn’t split. Waiting for ever and ever had its attractions, but you needed money to do it with. His fingers closed around a small, unexpected rectangle. He pulled it out and looked at it. Silverfish’s card. No. 1 Holy Wood turned out to be a couple of shacks inside a high fence. There was a queue at the gate. It was made up of trolls, dwarfs and humans. They looked as though they had been there for some time; in fact, some of them had such a naturally
carpentry was out. It sounded too much like hard work. He’d tried it once, and wood and him had soon reached dispirited way of sagging while remaining upright that they might have been specially-evolved descendants of the original prehistoric queuers.
At the gate was a large, heavy-set man, who was eyeing the queue with the smug look of minor power-wielders everywhere.
‘Excuse me–’ Victor began. an agreement – he wouldn’t touch it, and it wouldn’t split. Waiting for ever and ever had its attractions, but you needed money to do it with. His fingers closed around a small, unexpected rectangle. He pulled it out and looked at it. Silverfish’s card. No. 1 Holy Wood turned out to be a couple of shacks inside a high fence. There was a queue at the gate. It was made up of trolls, dwarfs and humans. They looked as though they had been there for some time; in fact, some of them had such a naturally
2009年3月24日星期二
Rembrandt rembrandt nightwatch painting
Rembrandt rembrandt nightwatch paintingRaphael The Sistine MadonnaWilliam Bouguereau BiblisWilliam Bouguereau Nymphs and Satyr.
Diego Rivera Detroit Industry
yes, all right,' said Teppicymon. 'No need to get carried away. He was a man, just like all of us.'
'"AndKhuftthecamelherderlookeduponthevalley. . ."' Dil began.
'After seven thousand yeares, he wyll be wantyng to look upon yt again,' said Ashk-ur-men-tep bluntly.
'Even so,' said the king. 'It does seem a bit . .
'The Teppicymon tottered forward and grabbed the door of the pyramid. It moved quite easily. Then he examined the stone beneath it. Derelict and half-covered though it was, someone had taken care to keep a pathway clear to the pyramid. And the stone was quite worn away, as by the passage of many feet.
This was not, by the nature of things, the normal state of affairs for a pyramid. The whole point was that once you were in, you were in.
The mummies examined the worn entrance and creaked at one another in surprise. One dead are equal,' said Ashk-ur-men-tep. 'You, younge manne. Calle hym forth.' 'Who, me?' said Gern. 'But he was the Fir-' 'Yes, we've been through all that,' said Teppicymon. 'Do it. Everyone's getting impatient. So is he, I expect.' Gern rolled his eyes, and hefted the hammer. Just as it was about to hiss down on the seal Dil darted forward, causing Gern to dance wildly across the ground in a groin-straining effort to avoid interring the hammer in his master's head. 'It's open!' said Dil. 'Look! The seal just swings aside!' 'Youe meane he iss oute?'
Diego Rivera Detroit Industry
yes, all right,' said Teppicymon. 'No need to get carried away. He was a man, just like all of us.'
'"AndKhuftthecamelherderlookeduponthevalley. . ."' Dil began.
'After seven thousand yeares, he wyll be wantyng to look upon yt again,' said Ashk-ur-men-tep bluntly.
'Even so,' said the king. 'It does seem a bit . .
'The Teppicymon tottered forward and grabbed the door of the pyramid. It moved quite easily. Then he examined the stone beneath it. Derelict and half-covered though it was, someone had taken care to keep a pathway clear to the pyramid. And the stone was quite worn away, as by the passage of many feet.
This was not, by the nature of things, the normal state of affairs for a pyramid. The whole point was that once you were in, you were in.
The mummies examined the worn entrance and creaked at one another in surprise. One dead are equal,' said Ashk-ur-men-tep. 'You, younge manne. Calle hym forth.' 'Who, me?' said Gern. 'But he was the Fir-' 'Yes, we've been through all that,' said Teppicymon. 'Do it. Everyone's getting impatient. So is he, I expect.' Gern rolled his eyes, and hefted the hammer. Just as it was about to hiss down on the seal Dil darted forward, causing Gern to dance wildly across the ground in a groin-straining effort to avoid interring the hammer in his master's head. 'It's open!' said Dil. 'Look! The seal just swings aside!' 'Youe meane he iss oute?'
2009年3月20日星期五
Diego Rivera Detroit Industry
Diego Rivera Detroit IndustryLeroy Neiman Rocky vs ApolloAndy Warhol SupermanAndy Warhol SunsetAndy Warhol Shadows I
'Fairly straightforward,' he said, thinking quickly. 'A case of mortis portalis tackulatum with complications.'
'What's that mean?' said Chidder.
'In .'
'But he's still breathing!'
'These are just reflex actions that might easily confuse the layman,' said the doctor airily.
Chidder sighed. He suspected that the Guild, who after all had an unrivalled experience of sharp knives and complex organic compounds, was much better at elementary diagnostics than were the doctors. The Guild might kill people, layman's terms,' the doctor sniffed, 'he's as dead as a doornail.' 'What are the complications?' The doctor looked shifty. 'He's still breathing,' he said. 'Look, his pulse is nearly humming and he's got a temperature you could fry eggs on.' He hesitated, aware that this was probably too straightforward and easily understood; medicine was a new art on the Disc, and wasn't going to get anywhere if people could understand it. 'Pyrocerebrum ouerf culinaire,' he said, after working it out in his head. 'Well, what can you do about it?' said Arthur. 'Nothing. He's dead. All the medical tests prove it. So, er . . . bury him, keep him nice and cool, and tell him to come and see me next week. In daylight, for preference
'Fairly straightforward,' he said, thinking quickly. 'A case of mortis portalis tackulatum with complications.'
'What's that mean?' said Chidder.
'In .'
'But he's still breathing!'
'These are just reflex actions that might easily confuse the layman,' said the doctor airily.
Chidder sighed. He suspected that the Guild, who after all had an unrivalled experience of sharp knives and complex organic compounds, was much better at elementary diagnostics than were the doctors. The Guild might kill people, layman's terms,' the doctor sniffed, 'he's as dead as a doornail.' 'What are the complications?' The doctor looked shifty. 'He's still breathing,' he said. 'Look, his pulse is nearly humming and he's got a temperature you could fry eggs on.' He hesitated, aware that this was probably too straightforward and easily understood; medicine was a new art on the Disc, and wasn't going to get anywhere if people could understand it. 'Pyrocerebrum ouerf culinaire,' he said, after working it out in his head. 'Well, what can you do about it?' said Arthur. 'Nothing. He's dead. All the medical tests prove it. So, er . . . bury him, keep him nice and cool, and tell him to come and see me next week. In daylight, for preference
2009年3月19日星期四
John William Waterhouse The Enchanted Garden
John William Waterhouse The Enchanted GardenJohn William Waterhouse Psyche Entering Cupid's GardenJohn William Waterhouse Nymphs Finding the Head of OrpheusJohn William Waterhouse JulietJohn William Waterhouse Flora and the Zephyrs
this point that the track opened out into a clearing that hadn't been there the day before and wouldn't be there tomorrow, a clearing in which the moonlight glittered off assembled antlers and fangs and serried ranks of glowing owls had hooted themselves into silence, and the wolves had other matters to attend to.
There was a song that echoed and boomed from cliff to cliff, and resounded up the high hidden valleys, causing miniature avalanches. It funnelled along the secret tunnels under glaciers, losing all meaning as it rang between the walls of ice.eyes.The weak banded together can be pretty despicable, but it dawned on the duchess that an alliance of the strong can be more of an immediate problem.There was total silence for a few seconds, broken only by a faint panting, and then the duchess grinned, raised her knife, and charged the lot of them.The front ranks of the massed creatures opened to let her pass, and then closed in again. Even the rabbits.The kingdom exhaled. On the moors under the very shadow of the peaks the mighty nocturnal chorus of nature had fallen silent. The crickets had ceased their chirping, the
this point that the track opened out into a clearing that hadn't been there the day before and wouldn't be there tomorrow, a clearing in which the moonlight glittered off assembled antlers and fangs and serried ranks of glowing owls had hooted themselves into silence, and the wolves had other matters to attend to.
There was a song that echoed and boomed from cliff to cliff, and resounded up the high hidden valleys, causing miniature avalanches. It funnelled along the secret tunnels under glaciers, losing all meaning as it rang between the walls of ice.eyes.The weak banded together can be pretty despicable, but it dawned on the duchess that an alliance of the strong can be more of an immediate problem.There was total silence for a few seconds, broken only by a faint panting, and then the duchess grinned, raised her knife, and charged the lot of them.The front ranks of the massed creatures opened to let her pass, and then closed in again. Even the rabbits.The kingdom exhaled. On the moors under the very shadow of the peaks the mighty nocturnal chorus of nature had fallen silent. The crickets had ceased their chirping, the
2009年3月17日星期二
Thomas Moran Cliffs of Green River
Thomas Moran Cliffs of Green RiverThomas Moran Autumn LandscapeThomas Moran Chicago World's FairThomas Moran A View of VeniceHerbert James Draper Prospero Summoning Nymphs and Deities
Hwel gripped the edge of the table and opened his mouth to roar.
And stopped.
He stared at the two figures. His mouth stayed open.
It closed again with a snap.
'Something the matter?' said Tomjon.
Hwel looked away. It had been a long night. 'Trick of the light,' he muttered. 'And I could do with a drink,' he added. 'A bloody good quaff.'
In fact, he thought, why fight it? 'I'll even put up with the singing,' he said.
, urged him to wave his hand at the beetling brows glaring at them through the gloom.
'S'all right,' he said, to the bar at large. 'He don't mean it, he ver' funny 'Was' the nex' wor'?''S'gold. I think.''Ah.'Hwel looked unsteadily into his mug. Drunkenness had this to be said for it, it stopped the flow of inspirations.'And you left out the "gold",' he said.'Where?' said Tomjon. He was wearing the Fool's hat.Hwel considered this. 'I reckon,' he said, concentrating, 'it was between the "gold" and the "gold". An' I reckon,' he peered again into the mug. It was. empty, a horrifying sight. 'I reckon,' he tried again, and finally gave up, and substituted, 'I reckon I could do with another drink.''My shout this time,' said the Fool. 'Hahaha. My squeak. Hahaha.' He tried to stand up, and banged his head.In the gloom of the bar a dozen axes were gripped more firmly. The part of Hwel that was sober, and was horrified to see the rest of him being drunk
Hwel gripped the edge of the table and opened his mouth to roar.
And stopped.
He stared at the two figures. His mouth stayed open.
It closed again with a snap.
'Something the matter?' said Tomjon.
Hwel looked away. It had been a long night. 'Trick of the light,' he muttered. 'And I could do with a drink,' he added. 'A bloody good quaff.'
In fact, he thought, why fight it? 'I'll even put up with the singing,' he said.
, urged him to wave his hand at the beetling brows glaring at them through the gloom.
'S'all right,' he said, to the bar at large. 'He don't mean it, he ver' funny 'Was' the nex' wor'?''S'gold. I think.''Ah.'Hwel looked unsteadily into his mug. Drunkenness had this to be said for it, it stopped the flow of inspirations.'And you left out the "gold",' he said.'Where?' said Tomjon. He was wearing the Fool's hat.Hwel considered this. 'I reckon,' he said, concentrating, 'it was between the "gold" and the "gold". An' I reckon,' he peered again into the mug. It was. empty, a horrifying sight. 'I reckon,' he tried again, and finally gave up, and substituted, 'I reckon I could do with another drink.''My shout this time,' said the Fool. 'Hahaha. My squeak. Hahaha.' He tried to stand up, and banged his head.In the gloom of the bar a dozen axes were gripped more firmly. The part of Hwel that was sober, and was horrified to see the rest of him being drunk
2009年3月16日星期一
George Inness The Coming Storm
George Inness The Coming StormGeorge Inness SunsetGeorge Inness Peace and PlentyGeorge Inness Delaware Water GapLorenzo Lotto Nativity
Except for me, she thought smugly.
'She's very upset, isn't she,' said Magrat to Nanny Ogg.
'Ah, well,' said Nanny. 'There's the problem, see. The more you get used to magic, the more you don't want to use it. The more it gets in your way. I expect, when you were just starting out, you learned a few spells from lump of castle stone and relaxed.
Thought I'd forgotten it, for a minute there,' she said, lifting it out. 'You can come out now.'
He was barely visible in the brightness of day, a mere shimmer in the air under the trees. King Verence blinked. He wasn't used to daylight.Goodie Whemper, maysherestinpeace, and you used them all the time, didn't you?''Well, yes. Everyone does.''Well-known fact,' agreed Nanny. 'But when you get along in the Craft, you learn that the hardest magic is the sort you don't use at all.'Magrat considered the proposition cautiously. 'This isn't some kind of Zen, is it?' she said.'Dunno. Never seen one.''When we were in the dungeons, Granny said something about trying the rocks. That sounded like pretty hard magic.''Well, Goodie wasn't much into rocks,' said Nanny. 'It's not really hard. You just prod their memories. You know, of the old days. When they were hot and runny.'She hesitated, and her hand flew to her pocket. She gripped the
Except for me, she thought smugly.
'She's very upset, isn't she,' said Magrat to Nanny Ogg.
'Ah, well,' said Nanny. 'There's the problem, see. The more you get used to magic, the more you don't want to use it. The more it gets in your way. I expect, when you were just starting out, you learned a few spells from lump of castle stone and relaxed.
Thought I'd forgotten it, for a minute there,' she said, lifting it out. 'You can come out now.'
He was barely visible in the brightness of day, a mere shimmer in the air under the trees. King Verence blinked. He wasn't used to daylight.Goodie Whemper, maysherestinpeace, and you used them all the time, didn't you?''Well, yes. Everyone does.''Well-known fact,' agreed Nanny. 'But when you get along in the Craft, you learn that the hardest magic is the sort you don't use at all.'Magrat considered the proposition cautiously. 'This isn't some kind of Zen, is it?' she said.'Dunno. Never seen one.''When we were in the dungeons, Granny said something about trying the rocks. That sounded like pretty hard magic.''Well, Goodie wasn't much into rocks,' said Nanny. 'It's not really hard. You just prod their memories. You know, of the old days. When they were hot and runny.'She hesitated, and her hand flew to her pocket. She gripped the
2009年3月15日星期日
Claude Monet Blue Water Lilies
Claude Monet Blue Water LiliesClaude Monet Banks of the SeineClaude Monet Bank of the Seine VetheuilClaude Monet Autumn at ArgenteuilRene Magritte Woman Bathing
after that a man came up and pinched my bottom.' Magrat went a deep crimson and slapped her hand over her mouth.
'Did he?' said Granny. 'And then what?'
'And then, and then—'
'Yes?'
'He said, he said—'
'What did he say?'
'He said, "Hallo, my lovely, what are you doing tonight?" '
Granny ruminated on this for a while and then she said, 'Old Goodie Whemper, she didn't get out and about much, did she?'
'It was her leg, you know,' said Magrat.
'But she taught you all the midwifery and everything?'
'Oh, yes, that,' said Magrat. 'I done lots.'
'But—' Granny hesitated, groping her way across unfamiliar territory – 'she never talked about what you might call the previous.'
'Sorry?'on a stool. But the hedgehog—' Granny stopped listening. 'Only not just now,' she added.
The troupe got under way a few hours before sunset, their four carts lurching off down the road that led towards 'You know,' said Granny, with an edge of desperation in her voice. 'Men and such.'Magrat looked as if she was about to panic. 'What about them?'Granny Weatherwax had done many unusual things in her time, and it took a lot to make her refuse a challenge. But this time she gave in.'I think,' she said helplessly, 'that it might be a good idea if you have a quiet word with Nanny Ogg one of these days. Fairly soon.'There was a cackle of laughter from the window behind them, a chink of glasses, and a thin voice raised in song: —with a giraffe, If you stand
after that a man came up and pinched my bottom.' Magrat went a deep crimson and slapped her hand over her mouth.
'Did he?' said Granny. 'And then what?'
'And then, and then—'
'Yes?'
'He said, he said—'
'What did he say?'
'He said, "Hallo, my lovely, what are you doing tonight?" '
Granny ruminated on this for a while and then she said, 'Old Goodie Whemper, she didn't get out and about much, did she?'
'It was her leg, you know,' said Magrat.
'But she taught you all the midwifery and everything?'
'Oh, yes, that,' said Magrat. 'I done lots.'
'But—' Granny hesitated, groping her way across unfamiliar territory – 'she never talked about what you might call the previous.'
'Sorry?'on a stool. But the hedgehog—' Granny stopped listening. 'Only not just now,' she added.
The troupe got under way a few hours before sunset, their four carts lurching off down the road that led towards 'You know,' said Granny, with an edge of desperation in her voice. 'Men and such.'Magrat looked as if she was about to panic. 'What about them?'Granny Weatherwax had done many unusual things in her time, and it took a lot to make her refuse a challenge. But this time she gave in.'I think,' she said helplessly, 'that it might be a good idea if you have a quiet word with Nanny Ogg one of these days. Fairly soon.'There was a cackle of laughter from the window behind them, a chink of glasses, and a thin voice raised in song: —with a giraffe, If you stand
2009年3月12日星期四
Salvador Dali Figure at a Window I
Salvador Dali Figure at a Window ISalvador Dali Corpus HypercubusVincent van Gogh View of Arles with Irises I
Mort and Ysabell stood in the doorway, transfixed, as Albert stamped off between the aisles of glass. The sound didn't just enter the body via the ears, it came up through the legs and down through the skull and filled up the brain until all that it could think of was the rushing, hissing grey noise, the sound of millions of lives being lived. on his arm.
When she spoke, her voice was strained. 'Mort, some of them are so small.'
I KNOW.
Her grip relaxed, very gently, like someone putting the top ace on a house of cards and taking their hand away gingerly so as not to bring the whole edifice down.
'Say that again?' she said quietly. And rushing towards their inevitable destination.They stared up and out at the endless ranks of lifetimers, every one different, every one named. The light from torches ranged along the walls picked highlights off them, so that a star gleamed on every glass. The far walls of the room were lost in the galaxy of light.Mort felt Ysabell's fingers tighten
Mort and Ysabell stood in the doorway, transfixed, as Albert stamped off between the aisles of glass. The sound didn't just enter the body via the ears, it came up through the legs and down through the skull and filled up the brain until all that it could think of was the rushing, hissing grey noise, the sound of millions of lives being lived. on his arm.
When she spoke, her voice was strained. 'Mort, some of them are so small.'
I KNOW.
Her grip relaxed, very gently, like someone putting the top ace on a house of cards and taking their hand away gingerly so as not to bring the whole edifice down.
'Say that again?' she said quietly. And rushing towards their inevitable destination.They stared up and out at the endless ranks of lifetimers, every one different, every one named. The light from torches ranged along the walls picked highlights off them, so that a star gleamed on every glass. The far walls of the room were lost in the galaxy of light.Mort felt Ysabell's fingers tighten
2009年3月11日星期三
Claude Monet The Bridge at Argenteuil
Claude Monet The Bridge at ArgenteuilClaude Monet Spring 1880Claude Monet Snow at Argenteuil
continued Albert, carefully pouring some tea into his saucer and fanning it primly with the end of his muffler. 'I mean, they was wise and fair, well, fairly wise. And they wouldn't think twice about cutting your head off soon as look at you,' he added approvingly. 'And all the queens were tall and pale and wore them balaclava helmet 'Oh, I know,' he snapped, 'get Albert's name and you'll go and look him up in the library, won't you? Prying and poking. I know you, skulking in there at all hours reading the lives of young wimmen —'
The heralds of guilt must have flourished their tarnished trumpets in the depths of Mort's eyes, because Albert cackled and prodded him with a bony finger.things —''Wimples?' said Mort.'Yeah, them, and the princesses were beautiful as the day is long and so noble they, they could pee through a dozen mattresses —''What?'Albert hesitated. 'Something like that, anyway,' he conceded. 'And there was balls and tournaments and executions. Great days.' He smiled dreamily at his memories.'Not like the sort of days you get now,' he said, emerging from his reverie with bad grace.'Have you got any other names, Albert?' said Mort. But the brief spell had been broken and the old man wasn't going to be drawn.
continued Albert, carefully pouring some tea into his saucer and fanning it primly with the end of his muffler. 'I mean, they was wise and fair, well, fairly wise. And they wouldn't think twice about cutting your head off soon as look at you,' he added approvingly. 'And all the queens were tall and pale and wore them balaclava helmet 'Oh, I know,' he snapped, 'get Albert's name and you'll go and look him up in the library, won't you? Prying and poking. I know you, skulking in there at all hours reading the lives of young wimmen —'
The heralds of guilt must have flourished their tarnished trumpets in the depths of Mort's eyes, because Albert cackled and prodded him with a bony finger.things —''Wimples?' said Mort.'Yeah, them, and the princesses were beautiful as the day is long and so noble they, they could pee through a dozen mattresses —''What?'Albert hesitated. 'Something like that, anyway,' he conceded. 'And there was balls and tournaments and executions. Great days.' He smiled dreamily at his memories.'Not like the sort of days you get now,' he said, emerging from his reverie with bad grace.'Have you got any other names, Albert?' said Mort. But the brief spell had been broken and the old man wasn't going to be drawn.
Georgia O'Keeffe From the Lake No. 1
Georgia O'Keeffe From the Lake No. 1Mark Rothko Orange and YellowAlfred Gockel Endless Love
and sound faded away until the roar of the court else's headphones. Mort saw Death standing companionably by the king, his eyes turned up towards —
— the minstrel gallery.
Mort saw the . . . .
The bolt struck. Death brought his sword around in a double-handed swing that passed gently through the king's neck without leaving a mark. To Mort, spiralling gently through the twilight world, it looked as though a ghostly shape had dropped away.
It couldn't be the king, because he was manifestly still standing there, looking directly at Death with an expression of extreme surprise. There was a shadowy something around his feet, and abowman, saw the bow, saw the bolt now winging through the air at the speed of a sick snail. Slow as it was, he couldn't outrun it. It seemed like hours before he could bring his leaden legs under control, but finally he managed to get both feet to touch the floor at the same time and kicked away with all the apparent acceleration of continental drift.As he twisted slowly through the air Death said, without rancour, IT WON'T WORK, YOU KNOW. IT'S ONLY NATURAL THAT YOU SHOULD WANT TO TRY, BUT IT WON'T WORK.Dream-like, Mort drifted through a silent world
and sound faded away until the roar of the court else's headphones. Mort saw Death standing companionably by the king, his eyes turned up towards —
— the minstrel gallery.
Mort saw the . . . .
The bolt struck. Death brought his sword around in a double-handed swing that passed gently through the king's neck without leaving a mark. To Mort, spiralling gently through the twilight world, it looked as though a ghostly shape had dropped away.
It couldn't be the king, because he was manifestly still standing there, looking directly at Death with an expression of extreme surprise. There was a shadowy something around his feet, and abowman, saw the bow, saw the bolt now winging through the air at the speed of a sick snail. Slow as it was, he couldn't outrun it. It seemed like hours before he could bring his leaden legs under control, but finally he managed to get both feet to touch the floor at the same time and kicked away with all the apparent acceleration of continental drift.As he twisted slowly through the air Death said, without rancour, IT WON'T WORK, YOU KNOW. IT'S ONLY NATURAL THAT YOU SHOULD WANT TO TRY, BUT IT WON'T WORK.Dream-like, Mort drifted through a silent world
2009年3月9日星期一
Claude Monet Sunflowers
Claude Monet SunflowersClaude Monet PoplarsJohannes Vermeer View Of Delft
chicken that had been dead for about two months, but the unpleasant effect was rather spoiled by warthog tusks, moth antennae, wolf ears and a unicorn spike. The whole thing had a selfassembled look, as if the owner had heard Esk edged closer. No one was taking any notice of her.
Inside a crystal sphere that had been tossed aside on to the sand floated a blue-green ball, crisscrossed with tiny white cloud patterns and what could almost have been continents if anyone about anatomy but couldn't quite get to grips with the idea. It was staring, but not at her. Something behind her occupied all its interest. Esk turned her head very slowly. Simon was sitting cross-legged in the centre of a circle of Things. There were hundreds of them, as still and silent as statues, watching him with reptilian patience. There was something small and angular held in his cupped hands. It gave off a fuzzy blue light that made his face look strange. Other shapes lay on the ground beside him, each in its little soft glow. They were the regular sort of shapes that Granny dismissed airily as jommetry-cubes, many-sided diamonds, cones, even a globe. Each one was transparent and inside was ....
chicken that had been dead for about two months, but the unpleasant effect was rather spoiled by warthog tusks, moth antennae, wolf ears and a unicorn spike. The whole thing had a selfassembled look, as if the owner had heard Esk edged closer. No one was taking any notice of her.
Inside a crystal sphere that had been tossed aside on to the sand floated a blue-green ball, crisscrossed with tiny white cloud patterns and what could almost have been continents if anyone about anatomy but couldn't quite get to grips with the idea. It was staring, but not at her. Something behind her occupied all its interest. Esk turned her head very slowly. Simon was sitting cross-legged in the centre of a circle of Things. There were hundreds of them, as still and silent as statues, watching him with reptilian patience. There was something small and angular held in his cupped hands. It gave off a fuzzy blue light that made his face look strange. Other shapes lay on the ground beside him, each in its little soft glow. They were the regular sort of shapes that Granny dismissed airily as jommetry-cubes, many-sided diamonds, cones, even a globe. Each one was transparent and inside was ....
George Frederick Watts Charity
George Frederick Watts CharityFrancisco de Goya Nude MajaFrancisco de Goya Clothed Maja
in the fleeces, it should be a world where it was in her hand. A tiny change, an infinitesimal alteration to the Way Things Were.
If Esk had been properly trained in wizardry she would have known that this was impossible. All wizards knew how to move things about, starting with protons and working upwards, but the important thing about moving , or the occasional leaf hung on its tree in a marginally different way. But then the wavefront of probability struck the edge of Reality and rebounded like the slosh off the side of the pond which, meeting the laggard ripples coming the other way, caused small but important whirlpools in the very fabric of existence. You can have whirlpools in the fabric something from A to Z, according to basic physics, was that at some point it should pass through the rest of the alphabet. The only way one could cause something to vanish at A and appear at Z would be to shuffle the whole of Reality sideways. The problems this would cause didn't bear thinking about. Esk, of course, had not been trained, and it is well known that a vital ingredient of success is not knowing that what you're attempting can't be done. A person ignorant of the possibility of failure can be a halfbrick in the path of the bicycle of history. As Esk tried to work out how to move the staff the ripples spread out in the magical ether, changing the Discworld in thousands of tiny ways. Most went entirely unnoticed. Perhaps a few grains of sand lay on their beaches in a slightly different position
in the fleeces, it should be a world where it was in her hand. A tiny change, an infinitesimal alteration to the Way Things Were.
If Esk had been properly trained in wizardry she would have known that this was impossible. All wizards knew how to move things about, starting with protons and working upwards, but the important thing about moving , or the occasional leaf hung on its tree in a marginally different way. But then the wavefront of probability struck the edge of Reality and rebounded like the slosh off the side of the pond which, meeting the laggard ripples coming the other way, caused small but important whirlpools in the very fabric of existence. You can have whirlpools in the fabric something from A to Z, according to basic physics, was that at some point it should pass through the rest of the alphabet. The only way one could cause something to vanish at A and appear at Z would be to shuffle the whole of Reality sideways. The problems this would cause didn't bear thinking about. Esk, of course, had not been trained, and it is well known that a vital ingredient of success is not knowing that what you're attempting can't be done. A person ignorant of the possibility of failure can be a halfbrick in the path of the bicycle of history. As Esk tried to work out how to move the staff the ripples spread out in the magical ether, changing the Discworld in thousands of tiny ways. Most went entirely unnoticed. Perhaps a few grains of sand lay on their beaches in a slightly different position
2009年3月5日星期四
Alphonse Maria Mucha JOB
Alphonse Maria Mucha JOBAlphonse Maria Mucha GismondaPierre Auguste Renoir The Umbrellas
There's nothing magical about it. All the funny words and waving the hands is just . . . it's only for....
She stopped, surprised at herself. She knew what she meant. The idea was right up there in the front of her mind. But she didn't know how to say it in words, even to herself.
It was a Now everything was deep under the snow. A forlorn windsock flapped against its pole. Granny didn't hold with flying but some of her friends still used broomsticks.
"It looks deserted," said Cem.
"No smoke," said Gulta.
The windows look like eyes, thought Esk, but kept it to herself. horrible feeling to find things in your head and not know how they fitted. It.... "Come on, we'll be all day." She shook her head and hurried after her brothers. The witch's cottage consisted of so many extensions and lean-tos that it was difficult to see what the original building had looked like, or even if there had ever been one. In the summer it was surrounded by dense beds of what Granny loosely called "the Herbs" - strange plants, hairy or squat or twining, with curious flowers or vivid fruits or unpleasantly bulging pods. Only Granny knew what they were all for, and any woodpigeon hungry enough to attack them generally emerged giggling to itself and bumping into things (or, sometimes, never emerged at all.
There's nothing magical about it. All the funny words and waving the hands is just . . . it's only for....
She stopped, surprised at herself. She knew what she meant. The idea was right up there in the front of her mind. But she didn't know how to say it in words, even to herself.
It was a Now everything was deep under the snow. A forlorn windsock flapped against its pole. Granny didn't hold with flying but some of her friends still used broomsticks.
"It looks deserted," said Cem.
"No smoke," said Gulta.
The windows look like eyes, thought Esk, but kept it to herself. horrible feeling to find things in your head and not know how they fitted. It.... "Come on, we'll be all day." She shook her head and hurried after her brothers. The witch's cottage consisted of so many extensions and lean-tos that it was difficult to see what the original building had looked like, or even if there had ever been one. In the summer it was surrounded by dense beds of what Granny loosely called "the Herbs" - strange plants, hairy or squat or twining, with curious flowers or vivid fruits or unpleasantly bulging pods. Only Granny knew what they were all for, and any woodpigeon hungry enough to attack them generally emerged giggling to itself and bumping into things (or, sometimes, never emerged at all.
2009年3月4日星期三
Andrea Mantegna Madonna with Sleeping Child
Andrea Mantegna Madonna with Sleeping ChildAlbert Bierstadt California SpringAlbert Bierstadt The Mountain BrookJames Jacques Joseph Tissot Journey of the Magi
'I'll shteal you one.'
There was something very oppressive about the city, Rincewind decided. There was also something very odd.
Almost every door was painted with a large red star.
'It's creepy,' said Bethan. 'As if people wanted to bring the star here.'
'Or keep it away,' said Twoflower.
'That won't work. It's too big,' said Rincewind. He saw their faces turned towards him.
'Well, it stands to reason, doesn't it?' he said lamely.
'No,' said Bethan.
'Stars are small lights in the sky,' said Twoflower. 'One fell down near my Home once – big white thing, size of a house, glowed for weeks before it went out.'
'This star is different,' said a voice. 'Great A'Tuin has climbed the beach of the universe. This is the great ocean of space.'
'How do you know?' said Twoflower.
'Know what?' said Rincewind.
'What you just said. About beaches and oceans.'
'I didn't timesharing, since no god would dream of living outside the holy quarter or, as it had become, three-eighths. There were usually three hundred different types of incense being burned and the noise was normally at pain threshold because of all the priests vying with each other to say anything!''Yes you did, you silly man!' yelled Bethan. 'We saw your lips going up and down and everything!'Rincewind shut his eyes. Inside his mind he could feel the Spell scuttling off to hide behind his conscience, and muttering to itself.'All right, all right,' he said. 'No need to shout. I – I don't know how I know, I just know —.''Well, I wish you'd tell us.'They turned the corner.All the cities around the Circle Sea had a special area set aside for the gods, of which the Disc had an elegant sufficiency. Usually they were crowded and not very attractive from an architectural point of view. The most senior gods, of course, had large and splendid temples, but the trouble was that later gods demanded equality and soon the holy areas were sprawling with lean-to's, annexes, loft conversions, sub-basements, bijou flatlets, ecclesiastical infilling and trans-temporal
'I'll shteal you one.'
There was something very oppressive about the city, Rincewind decided. There was also something very odd.
Almost every door was painted with a large red star.
'It's creepy,' said Bethan. 'As if people wanted to bring the star here.'
'Or keep it away,' said Twoflower.
'That won't work. It's too big,' said Rincewind. He saw their faces turned towards him.
'Well, it stands to reason, doesn't it?' he said lamely.
'No,' said Bethan.
'Stars are small lights in the sky,' said Twoflower. 'One fell down near my Home once – big white thing, size of a house, glowed for weeks before it went out.'
'This star is different,' said a voice. 'Great A'Tuin has climbed the beach of the universe. This is the great ocean of space.'
'How do you know?' said Twoflower.
'Know what?' said Rincewind.
'What you just said. About beaches and oceans.'
'I didn't timesharing, since no god would dream of living outside the holy quarter or, as it had become, three-eighths. There were usually three hundred different types of incense being burned and the noise was normally at pain threshold because of all the priests vying with each other to say anything!''Yes you did, you silly man!' yelled Bethan. 'We saw your lips going up and down and everything!'Rincewind shut his eyes. Inside his mind he could feel the Spell scuttling off to hide behind his conscience, and muttering to itself.'All right, all right,' he said. 'No need to shout. I – I don't know how I know, I just know —.''Well, I wish you'd tell us.'They turned the corner.All the cities around the Circle Sea had a special area set aside for the gods, of which the Disc had an elegant sufficiency. Usually they were crowded and not very attractive from an architectural point of view. The most senior gods, of course, had large and splendid temples, but the trouble was that later gods demanded equality and soon the holy areas were sprawling with lean-to's, annexes, loft conversions, sub-basements, bijou flatlets, ecclesiastical infilling and trans-temporal
2009年3月3日星期二
Andrea Mantegna Virgin and child with the Magdalen and St John the Baptist
Andrea Mantegna Virgin and child with the Magdalen and St John the BaptistAndrea Mantegna The Madonna of the CherubimAndrea Mantegna The Adoration of the ShepherdsAndrea Mantegna St George
waved two bunches of mistletoe in complicated patterns, and Belafon skilfully brought the massive slab to rest across two giant uprights with the faintest of clicks.
Rincewind let his breath out in a long sigh. It hurried off to hide somewhere.
A ladder banged against the side of the slab and the head of an elderly druid appeared over the edge. He gave the two passengers a puzzled glance, and then looked up at Belafon.
'About bloody time,' he said. 'Seven weeks to Hogswatchnight and it's gone down on us again.'
'Hallo, – the Chant of the Trodden Spiral was designed for concentric rings, idiot . . .'Zakriah,' said Belafon. What happened this time?''It's all totally fouled up. Today it predicted sunrise three minutes early. Talk about a klutz, boy, this is it.'Belafon clambered onto the ladder and disappeared from view. The passengers looked at each other, and then tared down into the vast open space between the inner circle of stones.'What shall we do now?' said Twoflower.'We could go to sleep?' suggested Rincewind.Twoflower ignored him, and climbed down the ladder.Around the circle druids were tapping the megaliths with little hammers and listening intently. Several of the huge stones were lying on their sides, and each was surrounded by another crowd of druids who were examining it carefully and arguing amongst
'I say fire it up again and try a simple moon ceremony . . .'
waved two bunches of mistletoe in complicated patterns, and Belafon skilfully brought the massive slab to rest across two giant uprights with the faintest of clicks.
Rincewind let his breath out in a long sigh. It hurried off to hide somewhere.
A ladder banged against the side of the slab and the head of an elderly druid appeared over the edge. He gave the two passengers a puzzled glance, and then looked up at Belafon.
'About bloody time,' he said. 'Seven weeks to Hogswatchnight and it's gone down on us again.'
'Hallo, – the Chant of the Trodden Spiral was designed for concentric rings, idiot . . .'Zakriah,' said Belafon. What happened this time?''It's all totally fouled up. Today it predicted sunrise three minutes early. Talk about a klutz, boy, this is it.'Belafon clambered onto the ladder and disappeared from view. The passengers looked at each other, and then tared down into the vast open space between the inner circle of stones.'What shall we do now?' said Twoflower.'We could go to sleep?' suggested Rincewind.Twoflower ignored him, and climbed down the ladder.Around the circle druids were tapping the megaliths with little hammers and listening intently. Several of the huge stones were lying on their sides, and each was surrounded by another crowd of druids who were examining it carefully and arguing amongst
'I say fire it up again and try a simple moon ceremony . . .'
2009年3月2日星期一
Henri Matisse Moroccan Landscape
Henri Matisse Moroccan LandscapeHenri Matisse Moorish ScreenHenri Matisse Luxe IHenri Matisse La moulade
Rincewind shook himself mentally.
"Look," he said. "I don't want to sound impatient, but in a few minutes some people are going to come through that door and take us away and kill us."
"Yes," said the to launch this ship of space, with two voyagers aboard. It will be the culmination of decades of research. It will also be very dangerous for the travellers. And so, in an attempt to reduce the risks, the Arch-astronomer of Krull has bargained with Fate to sacrifice two men at the moment of launch. Fate, in His turn, has agreed to smile on the space ship. A neat barter, is it not?"Lady."I suppose you wouldn't tell us why?" said Twoflower."Yes," said the Lady. "The Krullians intend to launch a bronze vessel over the edge of the Disc. Their prime purpose is to learn the sex of A'tuin the World Turtle.""Seems rather pointless," said Rincewind."No. Consider. One day Great A'tuin may encounter another member of the species chelys galactica, somewhere in the vast night in which we move. Will they fight? Will they mate? A little imagination will show you that the sex of Great A'tuin could be very important to us. At least, so the Krullians say."Rincewind tried not to think of World Turtles mating. It wasn't completely easy."So," continued the goddess, "they intend
Rincewind shook himself mentally.
"Look," he said. "I don't want to sound impatient, but in a few minutes some people are going to come through that door and take us away and kill us."
"Yes," said the to launch this ship of space, with two voyagers aboard. It will be the culmination of decades of research. It will also be very dangerous for the travellers. And so, in an attempt to reduce the risks, the Arch-astronomer of Krull has bargained with Fate to sacrifice two men at the moment of launch. Fate, in His turn, has agreed to smile on the space ship. A neat barter, is it not?"Lady."I suppose you wouldn't tell us why?" said Twoflower."Yes," said the Lady. "The Krullians intend to launch a bronze vessel over the edge of the Disc. Their prime purpose is to learn the sex of A'tuin the World Turtle.""Seems rather pointless," said Rincewind."No. Consider. One day Great A'tuin may encounter another member of the species chelys galactica, somewhere in the vast night in which we move. Will they fight? Will they mate? A little imagination will show you that the sex of Great A'tuin could be very important to us. At least, so the Krullians say."Rincewind tried not to think of World Turtles mating. It wasn't completely easy."So," continued the goddess, "they intend
2009年3月1日星期日
Andy Warhol Fiesta Pig
Andy Warhol Fiesta PigAndy Warhol dollar sign black and yellow on redAndy Warhol Diamond Dust Shoes Lilac Blue GreenAndy Warhol Daisy Double Pink
huge, dark-pillared halls which had been delved out of the solid rock. With some cunning too, from floor to ceiling the led through still more lofty halls and winding corridors quite big enough for a dragon (and dragons had come this way once, it seemed; there was a room full of rotting harness, dragon-sized, and another room containing plate and chain mail big enough for elephants). They ended in a pair of green bronze doors, each so high that they disappeared into the gloom. In front of Twoflower, at chest height, was a small handle shaped like a brass dragon.walls were a mass of statues, gargoyles, bas-reliefs and fluted columns that cast weirdly-moving shadows when the dragon gave an obliging illumination at Twoflower's request. They crossed the lengthy galleries and vast carven amphitheatres, all awash with deep soft dust and completely uninhabited. No-one had come to these dead caverns in centuries.Then he saw the path, leading away into yet another dark tunnel mouth. Someone had been using it regularly, and recently. It was a deep narrow trail in the grey blanket.Twoflower followed it. It
huge, dark-pillared halls which had been delved out of the solid rock. With some cunning too, from floor to ceiling the led through still more lofty halls and winding corridors quite big enough for a dragon (and dragons had come this way once, it seemed; there was a room full of rotting harness, dragon-sized, and another room containing plate and chain mail big enough for elephants). They ended in a pair of green bronze doors, each so high that they disappeared into the gloom. In front of Twoflower, at chest height, was a small handle shaped like a brass dragon.walls were a mass of statues, gargoyles, bas-reliefs and fluted columns that cast weirdly-moving shadows when the dragon gave an obliging illumination at Twoflower's request. They crossed the lengthy galleries and vast carven amphitheatres, all awash with deep soft dust and completely uninhabited. No-one had come to these dead caverns in centuries.Then he saw the path, leading away into yet another dark tunnel mouth. Someone had been using it regularly, and recently. It was a deep narrow trail in the grey blanket.Twoflower followed it. It
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