Jack Vettriano Amateur PhilosophersJack Vettriano along game a SpiderJack Vettriano Along Came A SpiderJack Vettriano All Systems GoJack Vettriano After The Thrill Is GoneJack Vettriano After MidnightJack Vettriano Ae Fond Kiss
We had nothing in common, except for a 97.3% perfect facial match and a genetic surceptibility to contracting syphilis from drinking out of toilets. But Mom and Daddy were too cowardly to do something like that.Pulling up my black, lacy top, which clung to We had nothing in common, except for a 97.3% perfect facial match and a genetic surceptibility to contracting syphilis from drinking out of toilets. But Mom and Daddy were too cowardly to do something like that.Pulling up my black, lacy top, which clung to my slim figure perfectly, accentuating my mild curves, and was emblazoned with the Hot Topic logo in hot pink, I peered down at the only clue I had to my real past, my real parents, before my mind was implanted with these false memories.my slim figure perfectly, accentuating my mild curves, and was emblazoned with the Hot Topic logo in hot pink, I peered down at the only clue I had to my real past, my real parents, before my mind was implanted with these false memories.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Jack Vettriano The Gathering Clouds
Jack Vettriano The Gathering CloudsJack Vettriano The First AuditionJack Vettriano The Embrace Of The SpiderJack Vettriano The DuellistsJack Vettriano The Drifter
couch for a little while longer before searching his surroundings for his clothes. In his closet was the last place that he checked and he found all his clothes folded neatly and all his other belongings stored away.
He got dressed and he found in the small bathroom a basin. He filled it up with warm water and dunked his head in. The water was warm and soothing. He decided to put his injured leg in and sooth it a little for it was throbbing. Afterward, his leg was feeling muthey thought it best to not toast all the bread in case you changed your mind. The bread has been freshly baked and the jam has been made almost instantly.’ Frodo smiled at this and soon his stomach rumbled again.~--*--~Later that afternoon Rosie woke up and saw Sam sitting on the side of the bed and cradling young Rose in his arms. He had a smile from ear to ear on his face. He turned around when he felt the bed moved and looked at his wife. ‘Good afternoon, Rosie.’ He said in a whisper. He ch better and he was just drying his hair when there came a soft knock on the door. Gandalf had come to fetch him.
‘It is time for breakfast now Frodo. Do you feel up to it?’
In the time that Frodo had been waiting for Gandalf, he had begun to think about Sam, which made him terribly sad. He stifled his tears and welcomed the wizard as cheerfully as he could.
Gandalf spotted his sadness almost instantly but he didn’t questions so as to not put off Frodo’s stomach. He ushered Frodo to come outside and Gandalf put his hand on Frodo’s shoulder. ‘The Elves have prepared some jam and toast. Thought got off of the bed and put the infant in her cradle. He came back to Rosie who now smelled the flower that he had picked for her earlier.
‘Sam, where did you find such a beautiful flower?’ The scent of the
couch for a little while longer before searching his surroundings for his clothes. In his closet was the last place that he checked and he found all his clothes folded neatly and all his other belongings stored away.
He got dressed and he found in the small bathroom a basin. He filled it up with warm water and dunked his head in. The water was warm and soothing. He decided to put his injured leg in and sooth it a little for it was throbbing. Afterward, his leg was feeling muthey thought it best to not toast all the bread in case you changed your mind. The bread has been freshly baked and the jam has been made almost instantly.’ Frodo smiled at this and soon his stomach rumbled again.~--*--~Later that afternoon Rosie woke up and saw Sam sitting on the side of the bed and cradling young Rose in his arms. He had a smile from ear to ear on his face. He turned around when he felt the bed moved and looked at his wife. ‘Good afternoon, Rosie.’ He said in a whisper. He ch better and he was just drying his hair when there came a soft knock on the door. Gandalf had come to fetch him.
‘It is time for breakfast now Frodo. Do you feel up to it?’
In the time that Frodo had been waiting for Gandalf, he had begun to think about Sam, which made him terribly sad. He stifled his tears and welcomed the wizard as cheerfully as he could.
Gandalf spotted his sadness almost instantly but he didn’t questions so as to not put off Frodo’s stomach. He ushered Frodo to come outside and Gandalf put his hand on Frodo’s shoulder. ‘The Elves have prepared some jam and toast. Thought got off of the bed and put the infant in her cradle. He came back to Rosie who now smelled the flower that he had picked for her earlier.
‘Sam, where did you find such a beautiful flower?’ The scent of the
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Jack Vettriano Bad, Bad Boys
Jack Vettriano Bad, Bad BoysJack Vettriano Bad Boy, Good GirlJack Vettriano Bad Boy BluesJack Vettriano Back Where You BelongJack Vettriano baby bye bye
Arbellason has gone to secure the eastern border and the Elflings will be disappointed if none of us is there to admire their skill.”
Almárean nodded and left. Thranduil stood outside a few minutes more before he collected his cloak and went to the practice fields where the Archery Masters were awaiting his arrival to begin the trials.
The trials were held once a month, and were an occasion for the Archery Masters to assess the progress their young charges had made. The King and the commanders usually made it a point for at least one of them to attend as well, so that they would know wpart of him was terrified at the thought of Legolas in the Colhador or the Eastern or the Southern Guard – but a part of him was also satisfied.He would have had just as much pride in his son had Legolas chosen to be a healer, or anything else for that matter. All the same, he was pleased that Legolas had taken the same path Thranduil himself had done, and that he had braided the thin warrior braids into his son’s hair on the day he had completed his training, just as his own father had done for him millennia ago.Just as Thranduil reached the field where the novices were waiting hat to expect of the next generation of archers.
It had been on one such occasion a couple of centuries previously that Thorontur, watching Legolas make a series of perfect shots, had turned to Thranduil and said in an undertone, “The boy is mine.”
Thranduil had laughed and said cheerfully, “He will be on routine patrol duty until he can count seven centuries. If you want him to ride with the Colhador, ask me then.”
“Ask you? What is Arbellason commander of the army for? I will ask him.”
Thranduil smiled now in recollection. In two hundred years Legolas would be deemed experienced enough to undertake the most dangerous responsibilities of a warrior. As he had told Lindariel, he would be lying if he said he was truly happy about that – a with their bows, a young elleth ran up to him, looking near tears.
“Rochendilwen!” he said in shock. “What is it, penneth? What has upset you so?”
Arbellason has gone to secure the eastern border and the Elflings will be disappointed if none of us is there to admire their skill.”
Almárean nodded and left. Thranduil stood outside a few minutes more before he collected his cloak and went to the practice fields where the Archery Masters were awaiting his arrival to begin the trials.
The trials were held once a month, and were an occasion for the Archery Masters to assess the progress their young charges had made. The King and the commanders usually made it a point for at least one of them to attend as well, so that they would know wpart of him was terrified at the thought of Legolas in the Colhador or the Eastern or the Southern Guard – but a part of him was also satisfied.He would have had just as much pride in his son had Legolas chosen to be a healer, or anything else for that matter. All the same, he was pleased that Legolas had taken the same path Thranduil himself had done, and that he had braided the thin warrior braids into his son’s hair on the day he had completed his training, just as his own father had done for him millennia ago.Just as Thranduil reached the field where the novices were waiting hat to expect of the next generation of archers.
It had been on one such occasion a couple of centuries previously that Thorontur, watching Legolas make a series of perfect shots, had turned to Thranduil and said in an undertone, “The boy is mine.”
Thranduil had laughed and said cheerfully, “He will be on routine patrol duty until he can count seven centuries. If you want him to ride with the Colhador, ask me then.”
“Ask you? What is Arbellason commander of the army for? I will ask him.”
Thranduil smiled now in recollection. In two hundred years Legolas would be deemed experienced enough to undertake the most dangerous responsibilities of a warrior. As he had told Lindariel, he would be lying if he said he was truly happy about that – a with their bows, a young elleth ran up to him, looking near tears.
“Rochendilwen!” he said in shock. “What is it, penneth? What has upset you so?”
Jack Vettriano The Star Cafe
Jack Vettriano The Star CafeJack Vettriano The Sparrow and the HawkJack Vettriano The Smooth OperatorJack Vettriano The Singing Butler
“Adar… I don’t remember.” Big soulful blue eyes turned to his father for any hopeful explanation. “It’s probably because your mind won’t allow you to remember because of your mother’s death.” They walked along the beautiful garden side-by-side, “Come to think of it… I really don’t remember anything before her death.” Legolas admitted. “It’s not something for you to grieve about, Ion-nin.” Thranduil smiled slightly, trying to get his son to do so—and failing.
“We had fun then?” the prince asked, not able to move-on from the thought of forgetting the memories of his mother. “Yes.” It wthat was until he burst-in on them. Miniel giggled as she picked her tiny 4 year old elfling. He was so small that one would mistake him for a 2 year old. “No! NO, Nana! Come with me! Look at what I found!” but being very, very lazy the couple just looked lovingly at the child and waited patiently. “You must see, you must see, you must see, you must see, you must see—OOOH! BIRD! Let me down, let me down, let me down~!” Miniel placed him on the ground where he scrambled-off to where he saw the bird flew; faithful Galion following him. Both the King and the Queen laughed happily as their gazes follow their young. “You really should have Elrond take a look at him, Mela-nin. I do not think his level of attention-span is normal.” The queen gave her husband a warming smile. “Aye, that I will as all the King could answer—it was the truth after all. “Legolas—” he started, thinking of an idea in an instant… Well, not really—but he did thought about it before the day went away, yes? “Do you want me to tell you?” The younger elf turned to him with renewed interest. “Yes, I want to hear about it. Maybe, I haven’t forgotten. Maybe—” A hand rested on his shoulder for comfort. “Maybe, you are just really, really depressed.” He smiled, earning him a small one in return. Well, that’s one step closer to cheerfulness—he made a mental check.
“Nana! Ada! LOOK, LOOK!!!” A tiny Legolas ran to the garden where his parents where having a peaceful afternoon tea—do.” Thranduil nodded after sipping at his tea. “Thranduil?” even the Queen’s voice is smiling. “Yes, Mela-nin?” the King turned to her once more. “What did I just say?” A blank air met the question. “Never mind taking him to Elrond, love. He takes forgetfulness out from you.” Her laugh resounded in the gardens like tinkling little bells as
“Adar… I don’t remember.” Big soulful blue eyes turned to his father for any hopeful explanation. “It’s probably because your mind won’t allow you to remember because of your mother’s death.” They walked along the beautiful garden side-by-side, “Come to think of it… I really don’t remember anything before her death.” Legolas admitted. “It’s not something for you to grieve about, Ion-nin.” Thranduil smiled slightly, trying to get his son to do so—and failing.
“We had fun then?” the prince asked, not able to move-on from the thought of forgetting the memories of his mother. “Yes.” It wthat was until he burst-in on them. Miniel giggled as she picked her tiny 4 year old elfling. He was so small that one would mistake him for a 2 year old. “No! NO, Nana! Come with me! Look at what I found!” but being very, very lazy the couple just looked lovingly at the child and waited patiently. “You must see, you must see, you must see, you must see, you must see—OOOH! BIRD! Let me down, let me down, let me down~!” Miniel placed him on the ground where he scrambled-off to where he saw the bird flew; faithful Galion following him. Both the King and the Queen laughed happily as their gazes follow their young. “You really should have Elrond take a look at him, Mela-nin. I do not think his level of attention-span is normal.” The queen gave her husband a warming smile. “Aye, that I will as all the King could answer—it was the truth after all. “Legolas—” he started, thinking of an idea in an instant… Well, not really—but he did thought about it before the day went away, yes? “Do you want me to tell you?” The younger elf turned to him with renewed interest. “Yes, I want to hear about it. Maybe, I haven’t forgotten. Maybe—” A hand rested on his shoulder for comfort. “Maybe, you are just really, really depressed.” He smiled, earning him a small one in return. Well, that’s one step closer to cheerfulness—he made a mental check.
“Nana! Ada! LOOK, LOOK!!!” A tiny Legolas ran to the garden where his parents where having a peaceful afternoon tea—do.” Thranduil nodded after sipping at his tea. “Thranduil?” even the Queen’s voice is smiling. “Yes, Mela-nin?” the King turned to her once more. “What did I just say?” A blank air met the question. “Never mind taking him to Elrond, love. He takes forgetfulness out from you.” Her laugh resounded in the gardens like tinkling little bells as
Monday, May 11, 2009
Jack Vettriano Cafe Days
Jack Vettriano Cafe DaysJack Vettriano Busted FlushJack Vettriano BluebirdJack Vettriano Bluebird At Bonneville
well elves could hear. That would explain the curious stares and why Glorfindel was so suspicious. However, I was still confused. As far as I knew I wasn’t aware I was speaking Elvish. Whenever the elves were present they understood me, and I them. I must have made the change without thinking. But why?
Then it dawned on me. I must have been speaking English with Almira when there were no elves around, or if we weren’t speaking directly to an elf, because it simply wasn’t necessary. I smiled as I realized this could be used to convince them we really weren’t from Middle-Earth. As if the red-haired, green-eyed elf didn’t give it away. But hey, unless I saw some kinhave been too embarrassed to admit they had absolutely no idea what we were speaking. But what did I know? “We do not interact with humans that often any more. So it seemed entirely possible that there might be a change in the language, or a deviant form we would not recognize. And given your odd coloring, it would stand to reason that you might be half-elves, and therefore more in touch with the world of men. However, if this is not so, what language were you speaking?”"We were speaking English," I announced.d of mothership I would have a hard time believing in visitors from another world or time, too.
“Why didn’t you question us about the language when you heard us using it?” I asked, genuinely curious.
At this, Glorfindel and the other elves’ expressions went from confused to slightly sheepish. “We assumed that it must have been a variation of the Common Tongue,” answered Glorfindel with a shrug. Yeah, sure they did. Or they might "Ing-lish?" Glorfindel tried.
"Yes. It’s the language we speak in the United States of America, which is where we are from."
"I have never heard of such a place," Glorfindel said, while several of the elves shook their heads in agreement.
"That’s because it’s either in an entirely different universe or
well elves could hear. That would explain the curious stares and why Glorfindel was so suspicious. However, I was still confused. As far as I knew I wasn’t aware I was speaking Elvish. Whenever the elves were present they understood me, and I them. I must have made the change without thinking. But why?
Then it dawned on me. I must have been speaking English with Almira when there were no elves around, or if we weren’t speaking directly to an elf, because it simply wasn’t necessary. I smiled as I realized this could be used to convince them we really weren’t from Middle-Earth. As if the red-haired, green-eyed elf didn’t give it away. But hey, unless I saw some kinhave been too embarrassed to admit they had absolutely no idea what we were speaking. But what did I know? “We do not interact with humans that often any more. So it seemed entirely possible that there might be a change in the language, or a deviant form we would not recognize. And given your odd coloring, it would stand to reason that you might be half-elves, and therefore more in touch with the world of men. However, if this is not so, what language were you speaking?”"We were speaking English," I announced.d of mothership I would have a hard time believing in visitors from another world or time, too.
“Why didn’t you question us about the language when you heard us using it?” I asked, genuinely curious.
At this, Glorfindel and the other elves’ expressions went from confused to slightly sheepish. “We assumed that it must have been a variation of the Common Tongue,” answered Glorfindel with a shrug. Yeah, sure they did. Or they might "Ing-lish?" Glorfindel tried.
"Yes. It’s the language we speak in the United States of America, which is where we are from."
"I have never heard of such a place," Glorfindel said, while several of the elves shook their heads in agreement.
"That’s because it’s either in an entirely different universe or
Jack Vettriano Just the Way it is
Jack Vettriano Just the Way it isJack Vettriano Just Another Saturday NightJack Vettriano Just Another DayJack Vettriano Jealous HeartJack Vettriano Incident On The Promenade
proceeded to try and strangle me. Seeing as my hands were still tied behind my back, I couldn’t really defend myself. The situation looked grim, very grim. Just as my vision started getting fuzzy, the Orc was pulled off me and a sickening squelching so I did not think he would have noticed. But now that he said something, the throbbing pain in my shoulder came to the forefront in my mind. I had managed to block it out while fighting for my life, or trying to. “I think I might have dislocated it,” I replied.“Then it will have to be set,” he said and cut the rope binding my hands.“Bummer,” I muttered as he called over one of the Elves.“This is Faelon. He is a healer and will set your shoulder for you.”I looked up and noticed that Faelon turned out to be the same Elf I had saved. I nodded at him as he knelt down next to me and began feeling my shoulder.“I wanted to thank you for saving my life. I am in your debtund left no doubt in my mind as to what had happened to him. “It’s about time,” I muttered amidst my coughing fits.
“You’re welcome,” Glorfindel said as he walked towards me. Blasted Elven hearing. “Are you alright?” he asked while kneeling down in front of me and looking me over.
“Oh yeah, (cough) I’m just fine (cough),” I said as sarcastically as possible, which wasn’t very much seeing as I was still having trouble breathing.
“What about your shoulder?” he asked, ignoring my pathetic attempt at sarcasm.
That surprised me because.”
“I must admit I was really quite impressed,” acknowledged Glorfindel.
I was kind of embarrassed and almost positive I was blushing. “It’s really no big deal
proceeded to try and strangle me. Seeing as my hands were still tied behind my back, I couldn’t really defend myself. The situation looked grim, very grim. Just as my vision started getting fuzzy, the Orc was pulled off me and a sickening squelching so I did not think he would have noticed. But now that he said something, the throbbing pain in my shoulder came to the forefront in my mind. I had managed to block it out while fighting for my life, or trying to. “I think I might have dislocated it,” I replied.“Then it will have to be set,” he said and cut the rope binding my hands.“Bummer,” I muttered as he called over one of the Elves.“This is Faelon. He is a healer and will set your shoulder for you.”I looked up and noticed that Faelon turned out to be the same Elf I had saved. I nodded at him as he knelt down next to me and began feeling my shoulder.“I wanted to thank you for saving my life. I am in your debtund left no doubt in my mind as to what had happened to him. “It’s about time,” I muttered amidst my coughing fits.
“You’re welcome,” Glorfindel said as he walked towards me. Blasted Elven hearing. “Are you alright?” he asked while kneeling down in front of me and looking me over.
“Oh yeah, (cough) I’m just fine (cough),” I said as sarcastically as possible, which wasn’t very much seeing as I was still having trouble breathing.
“What about your shoulder?” he asked, ignoring my pathetic attempt at sarcasm.
That surprised me because.”
“I must admit I was really quite impressed,” acknowledged Glorfindel.
I was kind of embarrassed and almost positive I was blushing. “It’s really no big deal
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Jack Vettriano legs Eleven
Jack Vettriano legs ElevenJack Vettriano Lazy Hazy DaysJack Vettriano La Fille a la Moto '
you can’t feel anything doesn’t meant that it does not exist.”
The four hobbits spoke to the innkeeper, who happened to be the man who had given Logan his foam, for a while, asking about the availability of rooms. They were led away by the cheerful fat man. Moments later, they returned. The dirt had been washed from their faces. Beer was brought to them, and the food came later. Logan goggled at the vast amount. How could four small people eat so much? The younger of them laughed as they ate and drank, but the older one, the leader, had a thoughtful expression on his face, as if there was a lot on his mind. That did not interest Logan in the least. Now that he’d drunken and eaten, he wanted to sleep and take a bath, not in that order. He didn’t know w and their incessant staring. He glanced at Strider to see if the other man had noticed that the ‘hobbits’ were getting suspicious. If Strider had noticed, he gave no indication of it. Instead, he calmly smoked his pipe.The smell of smoke made Logan feel restless. He pulled a cigar out of his pocket. “What...” began Strider as Logan lit his cigar from his pipe.“Sorry,” said Logan, not sounding apologetic at all. “Couldn’t be bothered goin’ over to the fireplace.” He put his cigar to his lips and took a deep pull, closing his eyes in appreciation. Nothing could beat a genuine Cuban cigar. Too bad he only had two more left, and this place didn’t look like it sold cigars, never mind the Cuban variety. As if to prove his suspicions, Strider stared at hy Strider was being so mysterious, as if telling him a wee bit more was going to kill him. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and did as Strider had told him; he watched the ‘hobbits’ through half-closed eyes.
The two younger ones seemed to be enjoying themselves and even the older ones were beginning to relax. Their tankards of beer were about the same size as their heads. It was a miracle that they could still walk in straight lines. Logan was very impressed. His keen ears caught snatches of their conversation over the din that the other patrons were making. The fat one —Logan was never one for being politically correct— was talking about the two of themthe cigar.
“What is that?” he asked.
“It’s a cigar,” replied Logan. “Sorta like your pipe, y’know. ExceptI can’t recycle it.”
you can’t feel anything doesn’t meant that it does not exist.”
The four hobbits spoke to the innkeeper, who happened to be the man who had given Logan his foam, for a while, asking about the availability of rooms. They were led away by the cheerful fat man. Moments later, they returned. The dirt had been washed from their faces. Beer was brought to them, and the food came later. Logan goggled at the vast amount. How could four small people eat so much? The younger of them laughed as they ate and drank, but the older one, the leader, had a thoughtful expression on his face, as if there was a lot on his mind. That did not interest Logan in the least. Now that he’d drunken and eaten, he wanted to sleep and take a bath, not in that order. He didn’t know w and their incessant staring. He glanced at Strider to see if the other man had noticed that the ‘hobbits’ were getting suspicious. If Strider had noticed, he gave no indication of it. Instead, he calmly smoked his pipe.The smell of smoke made Logan feel restless. He pulled a cigar out of his pocket. “What...” began Strider as Logan lit his cigar from his pipe.“Sorry,” said Logan, not sounding apologetic at all. “Couldn’t be bothered goin’ over to the fireplace.” He put his cigar to his lips and took a deep pull, closing his eyes in appreciation. Nothing could beat a genuine Cuban cigar. Too bad he only had two more left, and this place didn’t look like it sold cigars, never mind the Cuban variety. As if to prove his suspicions, Strider stared at hy Strider was being so mysterious, as if telling him a wee bit more was going to kill him. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and did as Strider had told him; he watched the ‘hobbits’ through half-closed eyes.
The two younger ones seemed to be enjoying themselves and even the older ones were beginning to relax. Their tankards of beer were about the same size as their heads. It was a miracle that they could still walk in straight lines. Logan was very impressed. His keen ears caught snatches of their conversation over the din that the other patrons were making. The fat one —Logan was never one for being politically correct— was talking about the two of themthe cigar.
“What is that?” he asked.
“It’s a cigar,” replied Logan. “Sorta like your pipe, y’know. ExceptI can’t recycle it.”
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