art

...human beings are able to attend to issues longer, to think harder about them, to receive deeper impressions that last longer, if information is presented in a context of emotion--a sort of hot dressing--than if it is presented wholly without affect.

Not every artistic person should have to be a photographer, but every photographer should be artistic.

And remember whatever discipline you're in, whether you're a musician or a photographer, fine artist or a cartoonist, writer, a dancer, a singer, a designer... whatever you do, you have a thing that's unique. You have the ability to make art.

What treasures he would give for one night with her. To watch her strip off one of her vintage dresses, revealing her satin skin inch by inch just for him.

Yet torture is above all an art, an artistic discipline just like literature , cinema, or contemporary dance. All detained in the City-State ghettos bitterly missed the torturers of yesteryears, those monsters who worked with the precision of a Swiss watch-maker.

Reality is not art, but a realist art is one that can create an integral aesthetic of reality.

A piece of art that speaks to you can open windows in a room you hadn__ even known was dark.

The true purpose of illustrated journaling [is] to celebrate your life. No matter how small or mundane or redundant, each drawing and little essay you write to commemorate an event or an object or a place makes it all the more special.

Nature is beautiful in all its chaos. However, a nature photograph is beautiful only in the absence of chaos.

She was a poem and a painting too. Everything she said sounded like a song, every silence was the music too.

A photograph is the pause button on life.

I am not an actress. I am a mistress of disguise. Acting happens to be one of the perks

How lucky I am to lose sleep over such a work of art.

This time when she picked up her paints, she didn__ think, she just painted. It was like opening the door onto a storm. The canvas was her doorway and the paint all the thunder and lightning, the wild pain-filled sky caught inside her.

I have forgotten the glasses, angles, color adjustments, contrast,blur and The photography..... The day the most photogenic person of my life went off my life. That person took my enthusiasm one feels at the moment of pressing the click.

If the past is no longer presentis it fiction?

When we step onto the bridge, Nathan turns and spreads his arms out wide. __elcome to Pont des Arts, a.k.a. The Lock Bridge.

Poetry isn__ an island, it is the bridge. Poetry isn__ a ship, it is the lifeboat. Poetry isn__ swimming. Poetry is water.