Sentences with phrase «memory of small rooms»

Not exact matches

Some of my earliest memories are of gatherings at my grandparents small apartment in Milwaukee where my relatives would crowd around the dining - room table and talk passionately about Israel.

/ Now go back in your memory and create a clear picture of the first house you lived in as a small child, adding colors, sounds, smells, and so on, which are associated with that house in your memory, / Be yourself as a small child alone in your favorite room of that house.

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The HTC One M9 does have a smaller size that some may favor, it does have room for expansion of the internal memory, a built - in FM radio and an IR Blaster.

Whether we were playing an MP3 of The Who's «Who Are You» off the internal memory or streaming disco tunes from Slacker, sound was loud enough to fill a small room and only a little bit tinny.

Then he had a small sitting room for more personal visits, lessons with a rare apprentice (Mary was the first apprentice he had taken in anyone's memory), a visit from a fellow mage, and the occasional individual graced with status of friend.

Michelle Williams Dallastown, Pennsylvania Every room in my parents» home is filled with memories: the dining room where we ate holiday meals, crammed around a table too small for the crowd, and the kitchen where my brother once cut off one of my braids.

I guess that's one of the things that makes them different from photographs, in that a photograph might be a record, a snap, one moment — a painting I think is about creating a small world around that photo... I really like that idea of something that you can enter like a box or an exhibition space, and enter these little rooms which for me are memories, but it's not about nostalgia — it's more about setting up something that's still living — so it's almost they're all in the present, rather than in the past.»

They are arranged in small groupings, as if representing women casually standing in a room, but of course only the indistinct memory of these unknown souls is suggested.

Together, the exhibited works shift in scale from room size installations to small, quiet photographs, transporting the viewer through a variety of locations, memories, and emotive experiences.

, 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,

Made up mostly of small - scale objects and paintings, this group exhibition transforms the traditional gallery space into a room - sized Wunderkammern of nostalgia, memory, and rediscovery.

Ok... you can't really put NYC in her room when you live in a small town far from the Big Apple BUT you can give a girl a dream filled with memories of her trips to NYC!

I just recently downsized and had to pick what I wanted to keep... My mother passed away just a couple of days after Christmas and she had a suite in our home and I had to get rid of her things, but I kept a few that had memories attached... So in my new home I have little reminders of her all over the place, her african statues on my music stand, some of her egyptian figurines on my bookcase, her cat decoration in my living room, her handwritten book of recipes and other small momentos throughout the house... What I wanted to keep but wasnt able to because they did nt fit in or just were too old I took pictures of and have a special file for them... Like you said surround yourself with happy memories!