alcuni gatti, un coccodrillo, due conigli, un castoro, 3 scoiattoli, due maiali, uno stambecco, un aquila arpia, alcuni gattini, 2 cani, 2 cagnolini, un drago di komodo, una tartariga, un rospo, Pitagora, Platone, Paracelso, Agrippa, Rudolf Steiner, Helena Blavaski, Giovanni l'apostolo, una pecora, tre usignoli e una boccia di vetro con dentro 4 piranha, affrontano i problemi ambientali seduti in torno ad una tavolata splendida all interno di un antico castello, un lampadario in cristallo a 7 bracci illumina la tavolata, entità eninenti vengino evocate per aiutare questi eroi a salvare questo pianeta. il quale a sua volta partecipa alla riunione insime agli altri 6 pianeti. nel cosmo echeggia aaaaaaa eeeeeee iiiiiiii ooooooo, worldofearth, owl face, owl eyes, owl body, talons, birds, insects, butterflies, oldLilian Mary22
alcuni gatti, un coccodrillo, due conigli, un castoro, 3 scoiattoli, due maiali, uno stambecco, un aquila arpia, alcuni gattini, 2 cani, 2 cagnolini, un drago di komodo, una tartariga, un rospo, Pitagora, Platone, Paracelso, Agrippa, Rudolf Steiner, Helena Blavaski, Giovanni l'apostolo, una pecora, tre usignoli e una boccia di vetro con dentro 4 piranha, affrontano i problemi ambientali seduti in torno ad una tavolata splendida all interno di un antico castello, un lampadario in cristallo a 7 bracci illumina la tavolata, entità eninenti vengino evocate per aiutare questi eroi a salvare questo pianeta. il quale a sua volta partecipa alla riunione insime agli altri 6 pianeti. nel cosmo echeggia aaaaaaa eeeeeee iiiiiiii ooooooo, owl face, owl eyes, owl body, talons, birds, insects, butterflies, old, Reimagine classic works of art with a twist—introduce animals as the stars. Whether it’s a serene panda in Monet’s gardens or a dancing mouse in Degas' ballet, blend the familiar with the unexpected in your creative tribute.Lilian Mary22
little obvious; her melting humidity was the result of analysable processes; and behind her there had seem to lurk some dim shape emblemtic of mrtality. He had never, during the ten years of their intimacy, dreamed for a moment of asking her to mrry him; none the less, he now felt for the first time a thankfulness that he had not done so . . . Then, suddenly and swiftly, his face flamed that he should be thinking thus of his friend. What! Elsie Bengough, with whom he had spent weeks and weeks of afternoons--she, the good chum, on whose help he would have counted had all the rest of the world failed him--she, whose loyalty to him would not, he knew, swerve as long as there was breath in her--Elsie to be even in thought dissected thus! He was an ingrate and a cad . . . Had she been there in that moment he would have abased himself before her. For ten minutes and more he sat, still gazing into the fire, with that humiliating red fading slowly from his cheeks. All was still within and without, save for a tiny musical tinkling that came from his kitchen--the dripping of water from an imperfectly turned-off tap into the vessel beneath it. Mechanically he began to beat with his fingers to the faintly heard falling of the drops; the tiny regular movement seemed to hasten that shameful withdrawal from his face. He grew cool once ore; ad when he resumed his meditation he was all unconscious that he took it up again at the same point. . . . it was not only her florid superfluity of build that he had approached in the attitude of criticism; he was conscious also of the wide differences between her mind and his own. Manara, Manara, kelogsloops, Watercolor, Aquarelle, birds, insects, butterflies, oldLilian Mary11
little obvious; her melting humidity was the result of analysable processes; and behind her there had seem to lurk some dim shape emblemtic of mrtality. He had never, during the ten years of their intimacy, dreamed for a moment of asking her to mrry him; none the less, he now felt for the first time a thankfulness that he had not done so . . . Then, suddenly and swiftly, his face flamed that he should be thinking thus of his friend. What! Elsie Bengough, with whom he had spent weeks and weeks of afternoons--she, the good chum, on whose help he would have counted had all the rest of the world failed him--she, whose loyalty to him would not, he knew, swerve as long as there was breath in her--Elsie to be even in thought dissected thus! He was an ingrate and a cad . . . Had she been there in that moment he would have abased himself before her. For ten minutes and more he sat, still gazing into the fire, with that humiliating red fading slowly from his cheeks. All was still within and without, save for a tiny musical tinkling that came from his kitchen--the dripping of water from an imperfectly turned-off tap into the vessel beneath it. Mechanically he began to beat with his fingers to the faintly heard falling of the drops; the tiny regular movement seemed to hasten that shameful withdrawal from his face. He grew cool once ore; ad when he resumed his meditation he was all unconscious that he took it up again at the same point. . . . it was not only her florid superfluity of build that he had approached in the attitude of criticism; he was conscious also of the wide differences between her mind and his own. Manara, Manara, kelogsloops, Watercolor, Aquarelle, birds, insects, butterflies, oldLilian Mary11
little obvious; her melting humidity was the result of analysable processes; and behind her there had seem to lurk some dim shape emblemtic of mrtality. He had never, during the ten years of their intimacy, dreamed for a moment of asking her to mrry him; none the less, he now felt for the first time a thankfulness that he had not done so . . . Then, suddenly and swiftly, his face flamed that he should be thinking thus of his friend. What! Elsie Bengough, with whom he had spent weeks and weeks of afternoons--she, the good chum, on whose help he would have counted had all the rest of the world failed him--she, whose loyalty to him would not, he knew, swerve as long as there was breath in her--Elsie to be even in thought dissected thus! He was an ingrate and a cad . . . Had she been there in that moment he would have abased himself before her. For ten minutes and more he sat, still gazing into the fire, with that humiliating red fading slowly from his cheeks. All was still within and without, save for a tiny musical tinkling that came from his kitchen--the dripping of water from an imperfectly turned-off tap into the vessel beneath it. Mechanically he began to beat with his fingers to the faintly heard falling of the drops; the tiny regular movement seemed to hasten that shameful withdrawal from his face. He grew cool once ore; ad when he resumed his meditation he was all unconscious that he took it up again at the same point. . . . it was not only her florid superfluity of build that he had approached in the attitude of criticism; he was conscious also of the wide differences between her mind and his own. Manara, Manara, kelogsloops, Watercolor, Aquarelle, birds, insects, butterflies, oldLilian Mary11