Friday, May 15, 2009

Jack Vettriano Welcome To My World

thought you were just happy to get paid,' said Buddy.
'Right. Right. But I'm even happier to get paid a lot.'
The guitar hummed. Buddy picked it up , and plucked a string.
Glod dropped his a bit . . . it's bound to be a bit special. I bet if we was to go back now the shop wouldn't be there. And that'd prove it. Everyone knows things bought from shops which aren't there next day are dead mysterious and items of Fate. Fate's smiling on us, could be.'
'Doing something on us,' said Cliff. 'I hope it's smiling.'
'And Mr Dibbler said he'd find us somewhere really special to play tomorrow.'
'Good,' said Buddy. 'We must play.'
'Right,' said Cliff. 'We play all right. It's our job.'knife.'That sounded like a piano!' he said.'I think it can sound like anything,' said Buddy. 'And now it knows about pianos.''Magic,' said Cliff.'Of course magic,' said Glod. 'That's what I keep saying. A strange old thing found in a dusty old shop one stormy night–’'It wasn't stormy,' said Cliff.'‑it's bound to . . . yes, all right, but it was raining

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Jack Vettriano La Fille a la Moto II

simple as dat?' said Cliff.
'I trust anyone who gives me money.'
Buddy glanced at the table. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that if something was wrong the guitar would do something ‑ play a it rattled briefly on the desktop as Satchelmouth put it down.
'Doesn't anyone know who the hells they are?' Mr Clete said, as Satchelmouth managed to grip the glass on the second try. 'Someone must know who they are!'
'Dunno about the boy,' said Satchelmouth. 'No‑one's ever seen him before. An' . . . an' . . . well, you know trolls . . . could've been anyone. . .'
'One of them was definitely the Librarian from the University,' said Herbert 'Mr Harpsichord' Shuffle, the Guild's own librarian.discord, maybe. But it just purred gently to itself.'Oh, all right. If it means I get to keep my teef, I'm all for it,' said Cliff.'OK,' said Buddy.'Great! Great! We can make beautiful music together! At least ‑you boys can, eh?'He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil. In Dibbler's eyes, the lion roared.Somewhere high in the Ramtops, Susan rode Binky over a cloudbank.'How could he talk like that?' she said. 'Play around with people's lives, and then talk about duty?'All the lights were on in the Musicians' Guild.A gin bottle played a tattoo on the edge of a glass. Then

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Thomas Kinkade Victorian Autumn

found herself tapping her foot.
And realized that distant shadows were moving.
She ran knew when to give up.
She looked at the glass again. The boy ‑ and she used the term as girls will of young males several years older than them ‑ the boy had played a chord on the guitar or whatever it was, and history had been bent. Or had skipped, or something.
Something besides her didn't want him dead.
It was two o'clock in the morning, and raining.across the floor, the real floor, the one out­side the boundaries of the carpet.The shadows looked more like mathematics wouldbe if it was solid. There were vast curves of . . . something. Pointers like clock hands, but longer than a tree, moved slowly through the air.The Death of Rats climbed on to her shoulder.'I suppose you don't know what's happening?'SQUEAK.Susan nodded. Rats, she supposed, died when they should. They didn't try to cheat, or return from the dead. There were no such things as zombie rats. Rats

Friday, May 8, 2009

Paul Gauguin Spirit of the Dead Watching

arrived,' said Imp. I won't even reach the door, he thought. I'm going to be mashed into a pullp.
'Here is some free 'Lias Bluestone,' said the troll, extending something massive with fingers on it.
'Imp y Celyn,' said Imp. 'Nothing to do with moving rocks around at allll in any way!'
A smaller, more knobbly hand was thrust at Imp from another direction. His gaze travelled up its associated arm, which was the property of the dwarf. He was small, even for a dwarf. A large bronze horn lay across his knees.
'Glod Glodsson,' said the dwarf. 'You just play the harp?'
'Anything with strings on it,' said Imp. 'But the harp is the queen of instruments, see.'
'I can blow anything,' said Glod.advice what you should know. It is free advice I am giving you gratis for nothing. In dis town, "rock" is a word for troll. A bad word for troll used by stupid humans. You call a troll a rock, you got to be prepared to spend some time looking for your head. Especially if you looks a bit elvish around de ears. Dis is free advice 'cos you are a bard and maker of music, like me.''Right! Thank you! Yes!' said Imp, awash with relief.He grabbed his harp and played a few notes. That seemed to lighten the atmosphere a bit. Everyone knew elves had never been able to play music.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Winslow Homer The Houses of Parliament

'Oozing a bit, sir.'
A shot hit the carriage wheel above Vimes' head, making it spin.
'Carrot?'
'Right through my shoulder, sir.'
Vimes eased 'I can move my hand. Hurts like . . . heck, sir. But you look worse.'
Vimes looked down.
There was blood all over his coat.
'A bit of stone must have caught me,' he said. 'I didn't even feel it!'
He tried to form a mental picture of the gonne.himself along on his elbows.'Good morning, your lordship,' he said, manically. He leaned back and pulled out a mangled cigar. 'Got a light?'The Patrician opened his eyes.'Ah, Captain Vimes. And what happens now?'Vimes grinned. Funny, he thought, how I never feel really alive until someone tries to kill me. That's when you notice that the sky is blue. Actually, not very blue right now. There's big clouds up there. But I'm noticing them.'We wait for one more shot,' he said. 'And then we run for proper cover.''I appear . . . to be losing a lot of blood,' said Lord Vetinari.'Who would have thought you had it in you,' said Vimes, with the frankness of those probably about to die. 'What about you, Carrot?'

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Thomas Moran Cliffs of the Upper Colorado river

not right?'
'Don't know . . . maybe it's the gonne smell . . .'
'Nah. That started off here. The gonne was kept here for years.'
'Right. OK. Well, we've got a name. It might mean something to Carrot—'
Angua trotted down the stairs.
' 'Scuse me . . .' said Gaspode.
'Yes?'
'How can you turn back into a woman again?'
'I just get out alley, which indeed they reached, but it lacked certain important features that it had included when they were last there. Most notable of these was Angua's uniform, but there was also a world shortage of Foul Ole Ron.
'Damn.'
They looked at the empty patch of mud.of the moonlight and . . . concentrate. That's how it works.''Cor. That's all?''If it's technically full moon I can Change even during the day if I want to. I only have to Change when I'm in the moonlight.''Get away? What about wolfbane?''Wolfbane? It's a plant. A type of aconite, I think. What about it?''Don't it kill you?''Look, you don't have to believe everything you hear about werewolves. We're human, just like everyone else. Most of the time,' she added.By now they were outside the Guild and heading for the