2009年5月14日星期四

Jack Vettriano Beautiful Dreamer 2001

Jack Vettriano Beautiful Dreamer 2001Jack Vettriano Bad, Bad BoysJack Vettriano Bad Boy, Good Girl
dozens of these rollsDibbler emerged from the shadows in the wings. There was a troll with him who, Buddy surmised, must have been Chrysoprase. He wasn't particularly big, or even very craggy. In fact he had a smooth and glossy look to him, like a pebble found on a beach. There wasn't a trace of lichen anywhere.
And he was wearing clothes. Clothes, other than uniforms or special work clothes, weren't normally a troll thing. Mostly they wore a loincloth to keep stuff in, and that was that. But Chrysoprase had a suit on. It looked badly tailored. It was in fact very well tailored, but even a troll with no clothes on looks fundamentally badly tailored.
Chrysoprase had been a very quick learner when he arrived in Ankh‑Morpork in here,' said Glod. 'They're posters. You know what that means? He's been having them stuck up in places. Talking of which, when the Musicians' Guild get hold of us–’'Music's free,' said Buddy. 'It has to be free.''What?' said Glod. 'Not in this dwarf's town!''Then it should be,' said Buddy. 'People shouldn't have to pay to play music.''Right! That boy's right! That's just what I've always said! Isn't that what I've always said? That's what I've said, right enough.'

2009年5月12日星期二

Jack Vettriano The White Slip

Jack Vettriano The White SlipJack Vettriano The Unorthodox ApproachJack Vettriano The Twilight Zone
fireworks go off in the sky. Reading them sometimes did the more dangerous trick of making fireworks go off in the privacy of the reader's brain.
For example, the big volume open in front of him contained some of the collected drawings of Leonard of Quirm, skilled artist and certified genius with a mind that wandered so much it came back with souvenirs.
Leonard's books were full of enemy, gunpowder rockets that showered the enemy with burning phosphorus, and other manufactures of the Age of Reason.
And there had been something else. The Librarian had noticed it in passing once before, and had been slightly puzzled by it. It seemed out of place.
His hairy hand thumbed through the pages. Ah . . . here it was . . .sketches ‑ of kittens, of the way water flows, of the wives of influential Ankh‑Morporkian merchants whose portraits had provided his means of making a living. But Leonard had been a genius and was deeply sensitive to the wonders of the world, so the margins were full of detailed doodles of whatever was on his mind at that moment ‑ vast water­-powered engines for bringing down city walls on the heads of the enemy, new types of siege guns for pumping flaming oil over the

2009年5月11日星期一

John Collier Spring

John Collier SpringCaravaggio The Crucifixion of Saint PeterCaravaggio The CardsharpsCaravaggio Judith Beheading Holofernes
world would go to wrack and ruin if people didn't recognize their responsibilities.
She leaned forward and knocked on the door.
'Excuse me . . that's it? You carried me all the way up here for takeaway food?'
The ground skimmed past faster, and it crept over her that the horse was going a lot faster now, a full gallop instead of the easy canter. A bunching of muscle . . .
. . . and then the sky ahead of her erupted blue for a moment.
Behind her, unseen because light was standing around red with embarrassment asking itself what had happened, a pair of hoofprints burned in the air for a moment.. don't you want anything‑?'There was shouting and a crash from inside, as if half a dozen people were fighting to get under the same table.'Oh. How nice. Thank you. Thank you very much,' said Susan, politely.Binky walked away, slowly. This time there was no bunched leap of muscle power ‑ he trotted into the air carefully, as if some time in the past he'd been scolded for spilling something.Susan tried the curry several hundred feet above the speeding landscape, and then threw it away as politely as possible.'It was very . . . unusual,' she said. 'And

2009年5月8日星期五

John Constable Wivenhoe Park

John Constable Wivenhoe ParkJohn Constable The White HorseJohn Constable The Hay Wain
sorry to say that it appears you have been missed in lessons again.'
'I don't understand, Miss Butts.'
The Butts said, 'Susan?'
Miss Butts shuddered. This was something else the teachers had mentioned. Sometimes Susan answered questions just before you asked them . . .
She steadied herself.
'You're still sitting there, are you?'headmistress leaned forward. She felt vaguely annoyed with herself, but . . . there was some­thing frankly unlovable about the child. Academically brilliant at the things she liked doing, of course, but that was just it; she was brilliant in the same way that a diamond is brilliant, all edges and chilliness.'Have you been . . . doing it?' she said. 'You prom­ised you were going to stop this silliness.''Miss Butts?' 'You've been making yourself invisible again, haven't you?'Susan blushed. So, rather less pinkly, did Miss Butts. I mean, she thought, it's ridiculous. It's against all reason. It's‑ oh, no . . .She turned her head and shut her eyes.'Yes, Miss Butts?' said Susan, just before Miss

2009年5月6日星期三

Talantbek Chekirov Missing You

Talantbek Chekirov Missing YouTalantbek Chekirov Embrace in ParisTalantbek Chekirov Close EncounterCassius Marcellus Coolidge Waterloo
worse than clowns and faces. I hear Cruces is really upset. He's got Assassins looking for the boy all over the city.'
'Oh. Well. I'd hate to be in Edward's shoes when they find him.'
'I'd hate to be in his shoes now. And I know where they are, you see. They're on his poor feet. And they're dead.'
'The Assassins 'But there's no clues! There's just some man with a gonne! Somewhere in the city! Anywhere! And I'm bred!'
The springs went glink again as Carrot stood up and staggered over to the chair and table. He sat down, pulled a piece of paper towards him, inspected a pencil, sharpened it on his sword and, after a moment's thought, began to write.
Angua watched him in silence. Carrot had a short-sleeved leather vest under his mail. There have found him, then?''No. Someone else did. And then Cuddy and Detritus did. If I'm any judge, he's been dead for several days. You see? That can't be right! But I rubbed the Beano make-up off and took off the red nose, and it was definitely him. And the wig's the right kind of red hair. He must have gone straight to Hammerhock.''But . . . someone shot at Detritus. And killed the beggar girl.''Yes.'Angua sat down beside him.And it couldn't have been Edward . . .''Hah!' Carrot undid his breastplate and pulled off his mail shirt.'So we're looking for someone else. A third man.'

2009年5月3日星期日

Leroy Neiman Rocky II vs. Apollo

Leroy Neiman Rocky II vs. ApolloThomas Kinkade PerseveranceJohn Collier A Devonshire OrchardCao Yong Red Umbrella
Behind them the pursuers, suddenly trying to make progress in a gap barely wide enough to accommodate a troll, realized that they were pushing and shoving with their mortal enemies and started to fight one another in the quickest, Colon. 'He promised he wasn't going to touch it any more! Look, he's had a whole bottle!'
'What is it? Bearhugger's?' said Nobby.
'Shouldn't think so, he's still breathing. Come on, help me up with him.'
The Night Watch clustered around. Carrot had deposited Captain Vimes on a chair in the middle of the Watch House floor.
Angua picked out the bottle and looked at the label.nastiest and above all narrowest battle ever held in the city.Cuddy waved Detritus to a halt and peered around a comer.'I think we're safe,' he said. 'All we have to do is get out of the other end of this and get back to the Watch House. OK?'He turned around, failed to see the troll, took a step forward, and vanished temporarily from the world of men. 'Oh, no,' said Sergeant

2009年4月28日星期二

Michelangelo Buonarroti The Creation of Adam hand

Michelangelo Buonarroti The Creation of Adam handPierre Auguste Renoir La Moulin de la GalettePierre Auguste Renoir By the WaterPierre Auguste Renoir At the Concert
could do that, you could do that, certainly,' said Silverfish. 'But he might not be in a position to listen. He disappeared a couple of years ago.'
. . . then when I find something to write with, thought Detritus, I have to find someone teach me how write . . .
'Disappeared? Howwas an idiot!'
'Oh, not an idiot,' said Silverfish, picking up a billiard ball that had miraculously escaped the detonations. 'Just so sharp he kept cutting himself, as my granny used to say. Lightning lemons! Where's the sense in that? It was as bad as his "voices-in-the-sky" machine. I told him: Leonard, I said, what are wizards for, eh? There's ?' said Cuddy.'We think,' said Silverfish, leaning closer, 'that he found a way of making himself invisible.''Really?''Because,' said Silverfish, nodding conspiratorially, 'no-one's seen him.''Ah,' said Cuddy. 'Er. This is just off of the top of my head, you understand, but I suppose he couldn't . . . just have gone somewhere where you couldn't see him?''Nah, that wouldn't be like old Leonard. He wouldn't disappear. But he might vanish.''Oh.''He was a bit . . . unhinged, if you know what I mean. Head too full of brains. Ha, I remember he had this idea once of getting lightning out of lemons! Hey, Sendivoge, you remember Leonard and his lightning lemons?'Sendivoge made little circular motions alongside his head with one finger. 'Oh, yes. "If you stick copper and zinc rods in the lemon, hey presto, you get tame lightning." Man