Andy Warhol Knives black and white

Andy Warhol Knives black and whiteAndy Warhol GunsAndy Warhol Gun 1982
"Shall I tell you what happens to wicked staffs?" she hissed. "If Esk is lost to the world, shall I tell you what I will do to you? You were saved from the fire once, because you could pass on the hurt to her. Next time it won't be the fire."
Her voice sank to a whiplash whisper.
"First it'll be the spokeshave. And then the sandpaper, and the auger, and the whittling knife -"
"I say, steady on," said Cutangle, his eyes watering.
"- and what's left I'll stake out in the woods for the fungus and the woodlice and the beetles. It could take years."length in front of her, her hand clamped around the staff.
The ice was exploding off it, in gouts of steam.
"Right," finished Granny, "and if this happens again I shall be very angry, do I make myself clear?"
Cutangle lowered his hands and hurried towards her. The carvings writhed. Most of them had moved around the back, out of Granny's gaze. "Now," she said. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to pick you up and we are all going back to the University, aren't we? Otherwise it's blunt saw time." She rolled up her sleeves and extended a hand. "Wizard," she said, "I shall want you to release it." Cutangle nodded miserably. "When I say now, now! Now!" Cutangle opened his eyes again. Granny was standing with her left arm extended full