Andy Warhol BananaUnknown Artist The Great Wave off Kanagawa by Katsushika HokusaiUnknown Artist The Great Wave of Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai
Changing his angle and looking closer, he saw the rock behind which Lyra was lying. He couldn't see her, though. Was he too close? He shut that window, moved back a step or two, and opened again.
She wasn't there.Her face was stubborn, her lips pressed together, her fists clenched. Her lizard daemon acquired a ruff and raised it slowly around his neck.
Will said, "Oh, very well. But we go through quickly and in complete silence, and you do exactly what I say, at once, you understand?"
She nodded and patted her pocket yet again to check the"Listen," he said to Ama and her daemon, "the woman has moved her and I can't see where she is. I'm going to have to go through and look around the cave to find her, and cut through as soon as I've done that. So stand back, keep out of the way so I don't accidentally cut you when I come back. If I get stuck there for any reason, go back and wait by the other window, where we came in.""We should both go through," Ama said, "because I know how to wake her, and you don't, and I know the cave better than you do, too."
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Raphael The Sistine Madonna
Raphael The Sistine MadonnaWilliam Bouguereau BiblisWilliam Bouguereau Nymphs and Satyr.
ankles, of something like juniper; and there were flowers like poppies, like buttercups, like cornflowers, giving a haze of different tints to the landscape; and then she saw a large bee, the size of the top segment of her thumb, visiting a blue flower head and making it bend and sway. But as it backed out of the petals and took to the air again, she saw that stop still and rub her eyes was the arrangement of their legs. They grew in a diamond formation: two in the center, one at the front, and one under the tail, so that the animals moved with a curious rocking motion. Mary longed to examine a skeleton and see how the structure worked.
For their part, the grazing creatures regarded her with mild, incurious eyes, showing it was no insect, for a moment later it made for her hand and perched on her finger, dipping a long needle-like beak against her skin with the utmost delicacy and then taking flight again when it found no nectar. It was a minute hummingbird, its bronze-feathered wings moving too fast for her to see.How every biologist on earth would envy her if they could see what she was seeing!She moved on and found herself getting closer to a herd of those grazing creatures she had seen the previous evening, whose movement had puzzled her without her knowing why. They were about the size of deer or antelopes, and similarly colored, but what made her
ankles, of something like juniper; and there were flowers like poppies, like buttercups, like cornflowers, giving a haze of different tints to the landscape; and then she saw a large bee, the size of the top segment of her thumb, visiting a blue flower head and making it bend and sway. But as it backed out of the petals and took to the air again, she saw that stop still and rub her eyes was the arrangement of their legs. They grew in a diamond formation: two in the center, one at the front, and one under the tail, so that the animals moved with a curious rocking motion. Mary longed to examine a skeleton and see how the structure worked.
For their part, the grazing creatures regarded her with mild, incurious eyes, showing it was no insect, for a moment later it made for her hand and perched on her finger, dipping a long needle-like beak against her skin with the utmost delicacy and then taking flight again when it found no nectar. It was a minute hummingbird, its bronze-feathered wings moving too fast for her to see.How every biologist on earth would envy her if they could see what she was seeing!She moved on and found herself getting closer to a herd of those grazing creatures she had seen the previous evening, whose movement had puzzled her without her knowing why. They were about the size of deer or antelopes, and similarly colored, but what made her
Monday, January 12, 2009
Frank Dicksee Passion
Frank Dicksee PassionAndrea del Sarto Holy FamilyAndrea del Sarto Madonna of the Harpies
look at the author’s obsession with soccer (or football to most of the world) through his lifetime. This series of essays (each focused on a different match) is an absorbing read and incredibly interesting.19. A People’s History of the United States, by Power of Less, by Leo Babauta. OK, it’s cheesy and self-promotional to put your own book on a list you created. I know. But I couldn’t help it — sometimes you have to be self-promotional … and plus, I really think you’ll find value in this book. Teaches you to focus on the essentials in order to simplify your life and become more effective in your work.Howard Zinn. The book that changed history for many people who had previously only studied the usual textbooks. Zinn tells the story of the United States from an entirely different perspective — the powerless, instead of the rich and powerful. It’s the story of the blacks, the women, the Chinese who built the railroads, the poor, the workers, those oppressed by force and power, the voiceless, and many other minorities. An eye-opener.20. The
look at the author’s obsession with soccer (or football to most of the world) through his lifetime. This series of essays (each focused on a different match) is an absorbing read and incredibly interesting.19. A People’s History of the United States, by Power of Less, by Leo Babauta. OK, it’s cheesy and self-promotional to put your own book on a list you created. I know. But I couldn’t help it — sometimes you have to be self-promotional … and plus, I really think you’ll find value in this book. Teaches you to focus on the essentials in order to simplify your life and become more effective in your work.Howard Zinn. The book that changed history for many people who had previously only studied the usual textbooks. Zinn tells the story of the United States from an entirely different perspective — the powerless, instead of the rich and powerful. It’s the story of the blacks, the women, the Chinese who built the railroads, the poor, the workers, those oppressed by force and power, the voiceless, and many other minorities. An eye-opener.20. The
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Marc Chagall Rain
Marc Chagall RainMarc Chagall Bridges over the SeineMarc Chagall Blue Lovers
day, in a week. Especially review the purpose, to be reminded of why each outcome is important to you. * Visualize Outcomes - Before doing something, it helps to close your eyes for a moment to visualize the end result. When the outcome is a reality, how will you feel? How will you celebrate it? How big will you smile? Feel Tell People About It - We are more likely to do something when we feel accountable for it. Let other people know what your up to, and you’re outcomes. * Visual Reminders - Post your outcome and its purpose up where you can see them - walls, bathroom mirror, on your desk, etc. * Find a Buddy - Find a buddy who is also working on something important to them. Become each other’s best support and motivator. Tell each other what you are currently focused on, why it is important and the actions you
day, in a week. Especially review the purpose, to be reminded of why each outcome is important to you. * Visualize Outcomes - Before doing something, it helps to close your eyes for a moment to visualize the end result. When the outcome is a reality, how will you feel? How will you celebrate it? How big will you smile? Feel Tell People About It - We are more likely to do something when we feel accountable for it. Let other people know what your up to, and you’re outcomes. * Visual Reminders - Post your outcome and its purpose up where you can see them - walls, bathroom mirror, on your desk, etc. * Find a Buddy - Find a buddy who is also working on something important to them. Become each other’s best support and motivator. Tell each other what you are currently focused on, why it is important and the actions you
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Andy Warhol Shot Blue Marilyn 1964
Andy Warhol Shot Blue Marilyn 1964Andy Warhol Shoes c 1980Andy Warhol Shoes 1980
parking lots, cemeteries, trucks.
Her new memoir, “Jour de Souffrance” (“Day of Suffering”), is the classic tale of the wronged wife, a journey through the three-year “crisis of jealousy” that she suffered as her lover — who is now her husband — played around. She Mr. Bruckner should know. Four years ago, he wrote a novel about a married male diplomat who led a . The protagonist ended up losing his wife, his children and his job. Mr. Bruckner was not able to sell the screenplay.now says that sex is not when the newsweekly Le Nouvel Observateur featured Ms. Millet and her new book on its cover, it ran a photograph of her, her left breast exposed, taken long ago.Ms. Millet never paid for sex. And although there are ads for male escorts on the Internet, the concept of a woman paying for sex is still a taboo. “If a woman agrees to pay a man for sex, she’s a whore,” Mr. Bruckner said. “If a man pays a woman for sexual services in France, it’s accepted. It’s one of the strange flaws of feminism.”
parking lots, cemeteries, trucks.
Her new memoir, “Jour de Souffrance” (“Day of Suffering”), is the classic tale of the wronged wife, a journey through the three-year “crisis of jealousy” that she suffered as her lover — who is now her husband — played around. She Mr. Bruckner should know. Four years ago, he wrote a novel about a married male diplomat who led a . The protagonist ended up losing his wife, his children and his job. Mr. Bruckner was not able to sell the screenplay.now says that sex is not when the newsweekly Le Nouvel Observateur featured Ms. Millet and her new book on its cover, it ran a photograph of her, her left breast exposed, taken long ago.Ms. Millet never paid for sex. And although there are ads for male escorts on the Internet, the concept of a woman paying for sex is still a taboo. “If a woman agrees to pay a man for sex, she’s a whore,” Mr. Bruckner said. “If a man pays a woman for sexual services in France, it’s accepted. It’s one of the strange flaws of feminism.”
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Jack Vettriano Bluebird At Bonneville
Jack Vettriano Bluebird At BonnevilleJack Vettriano Birth Of A DreamJack Vettriano Beautiful Dreamer 2001
May of 1983 they spent a few cold days at a series of little icebound, no-name high lakes, then worked across into the Hail Strew River drainage.
Going up, the day was fine but the trail deep-drifted and slopping wet at the margins. They left it to wind through a slashy cut, Around three they swung through a narrow pass to a southeast slope where the strong spring sun had had a chance to work, dropped down to the trail again which lay snowless below them. They could hear the river muttering and making a distant train sound a long way off. Twenty minutes on they surprised a black bear on the bank above them rolling leading the horses through brittle branchwood, Jack, the same eagle feather in his old hat, lifting his head in the heated noon to take the air scented with resinous lodgepole, the dry needle duff and hot rock, bitter juniper crushed beneath the horses’ hooves. Ennis, weathereyed, looked west for the heated cumulus that might come up on such a day but the boneless blue was so deep, said Jack, that he might drown looking up.
May of 1983 they spent a few cold days at a series of little icebound, no-name high lakes, then worked across into the Hail Strew River drainage.
Going up, the day was fine but the trail deep-drifted and slopping wet at the margins. They left it to wind through a slashy cut, Around three they swung through a narrow pass to a southeast slope where the strong spring sun had had a chance to work, dropped down to the trail again which lay snowless below them. They could hear the river muttering and making a distant train sound a long way off. Twenty minutes on they surprised a black bear on the bank above them rolling leading the horses through brittle branchwood, Jack, the same eagle feather in his old hat, lifting his head in the heated noon to take the air scented with resinous lodgepole, the dry needle duff and hot rock, bitter juniper crushed beneath the horses’ hooves. Ennis, weathereyed, looked west for the heated cumulus that might come up on such a day but the boneless blue was so deep, said Jack, that he might drown looking up.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Jack Vettriano the Pier
Jack Vettriano the PierJack Vettriano The Picnic PartyJack Vettriano The Perfectionist
Tylô gave a bound under the insult, whereupon the Cat bristled up, twisting her whiskers under her little pink nose (for she was very proud of those two pale blotches which gave a special touch to her dark beauty); and then, arching her back and sticking up her tail, she hissed out, "Fft! Fft!" and stood stock-still on the chest of drawers, like a dragon on the lid of a Chinese vase.
Tyltyl and Mytyl screamed with laughter; but the quarrel would certainly have had a bad ending if, at that moment, a great thing .
At the window, in the centre of a great halo of sunshine, there rose slowly, like a tall golden sheaf, a maiden of surpassing loveliness! Gleaming veils covered her figure without hiding its beauty; her bare arms, stretched in the attitude of giving, seemed transparent; and her great clear eyes wrapped all upon whom they fell in a fond embrace.
"It's the Queen!" said Tyltyl.
"It's the Blessed Virgin!" cried Mytyl, kneeling beside her had not happened. At eleven o'clock in the evening, in the middle of that winter's night, a great light, the light of the noon-day sun, glowing and dazzling, burst into the cottage. "Hullo, there's daylight!" said the little boy, who no longer knew what to make of things. "What will Daddy say?' But, before the Fairy had time to set him right, Tyltyl understood; and, full of wonderment, he knelt before the latest apparition that bewitched his eyes
Tylô gave a bound under the insult, whereupon the Cat bristled up, twisting her whiskers under her little pink nose (for she was very proud of those two pale blotches which gave a special touch to her dark beauty); and then, arching her back and sticking up her tail, she hissed out, "Fft! Fft!" and stood stock-still on the chest of drawers, like a dragon on the lid of a Chinese vase.
Tyltyl and Mytyl screamed with laughter; but the quarrel would certainly have had a bad ending if, at that moment, a great thing .
At the window, in the centre of a great halo of sunshine, there rose slowly, like a tall golden sheaf, a maiden of surpassing loveliness! Gleaming veils covered her figure without hiding its beauty; her bare arms, stretched in the attitude of giving, seemed transparent; and her great clear eyes wrapped all upon whom they fell in a fond embrace.
"It's the Queen!" said Tyltyl.
"It's the Blessed Virgin!" cried Mytyl, kneeling beside her had not happened. At eleven o'clock in the evening, in the middle of that winter's night, a great light, the light of the noon-day sun, glowing and dazzling, burst into the cottage. "Hullo, there's daylight!" said the little boy, who no longer knew what to make of things. "What will Daddy say?' But, before the Fairy had time to set him right, Tyltyl understood; and, full of wonderment, he knelt before the latest apparition that bewitched his eyes
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)