Sentences with phrase «ago at a live event»

A few years ago at a live event, I made this mistake of not following up soon enough and lost close to 70 % of those potential new subscribers.

Not exact matches

«This causes a shakeup in the fish family tree, which indicates that the ancestor shared by all ray - finned fishes lived tens of millions of years after previously thought, maybe in the aftermath of a mass extinction event around 360 million years ago that decimated many other groups,» said Friedman, an associate curator at the U-M Museum of Paleontology and an associate professor in the Department of Earth and Environmental Sciences.

«This event 359 million years ago is called the Hangenberg extinction, and it nearly wiped out vertebrate life, which at the time was limited to the water,» said Lauren Sallan, an assistant professor in the U-M Department of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology.

The event was created 6 years ago to bring awareness to the benefits of yoga practice and to raise crucial funds for research and integrative therapies for patients with life - threatening illnesses at City of Hope.

Two weeks ago I was so honored to be co-hosting an event at Kendra Scott for Spaulding for Children, who are a non-profit child welfare agency who seeks a way to make life better for children without families, joined together.

And yet a few weeks ago I was at a singles event, chatting to another single girl about different dating sites, and her «go to» example of an awful guy was one living at home, without a proper job!

Even as the terrible consequences of long - ago events crash together in the present and threaten to ruin lives, they will come to the startling realization that they may not want to forget the past at all.

What started nine months ago beginning with a dance installation in the front room at Norte Maar, continues to build momentum gathering collaborators and presenting artists through events celebrating the life and ideas of John Cage.

, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,

Remember how a few weeks ago we reported on how Microsoft was contacting developers about featuring their app with a Live Tile on a «wall» and that this wall would be featured at some upcoming Mango events?

A man came up to me at a recent event to talk about his dreams, what he wanted to do with his life, and why, after all this time, he still felt like he wasn't any closer than he was 10 years ago.