Sentences with phrase «moving human foot»

And what better prey can there be than a moving human foot, particularly if that foot is shoeless.

Not exact matches

Henry is projected to be one of the highest - owned backs across the industry, and for good reason: What other 6 - foot - 3, 245 - pound human is capable of moving like this?

The human foot has 33 joints that allow 26 bones to move freely during impacts such as walking, running and other activities.

No one's blaming him as well... no normal human being could move in such a body posture, unless he was on skates or had thrusters on / in his feet.

Using a set of simple rules for moving and two knifelike feet, a robot in Germany has learned not only how to walk with a remarkably human gait but also how to ascend a ramp.

For instance, as the feet move during walking, the centre of gravity shifts in a way that threatens to break the controller's rules — to compensate, de Lasa's character (pictured) automatically began swinging its arms, just as humans do.

More than any other cue, the sight of advancing feet alerts humans to the presence of moving creatures, according to researchers from Queen's University in Ontario and Ruhr University in Bochum, Germany.

The true importance of the Turkish family, he says, is that the siblings move relatively well on their feet and their palms, which suggests that early humans also walked that way.

Walking upright is one of the defining features of the human lineage, and as feet are the only structure that make contact with the ground in bipeds, they can tell us a lot about our ancient relatives» way of moving.

In this latest detection, the change in a star's velocity — rhythmically moving toward and then away from Earth — is only 36 feet per second, a little faster than a human sprints.

divorced man from ohio moving to nyc seeking love abroad 5 foot 10 220 seeking the love repect of another human being whos faithful honest and loves to do alot of things such as movies and things from ohio moving to nyc...

His creation has a human face and human hands and feet, but her arms and torso are transparent, revealing the machinery within alight with a soft blue glow, servos whirring as she moves.

Here's my experience with apartment life: Loss of equity forever Thin walls Noisy, inconsiderate neighbors Drug usage just feet away while raising children in that environment Hearing other people's love - making while trying to sleep for your job or an exam Cheap - quality appliances Floors / carpets that have had food, drink, vomit, urine and other human fluids ground in that were ostensibly «cleaned» prior to you moving in (Uh, Huh!)

You may need to start with the dog bed at the foot of the human bed before ultimately the dog bed is moved to the floor or even outside the room.

In this classic from The Shelter Pet Project, two adopted dogs observe their humans» flirtatious encounter in the «People Park,» including his sweet moves and her kicked up foot... «just like in the movies.»

If not properly trained, it may mistake a human foot for a cow hoof and give a slight nip to move things along.

One may need to start with the dog bed at the foot of the human bed before ultimately the dog bed is moved to the floor or even outside the room.

, 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,

Choksi's investigation of materials and temporality for accessing existential insight is augmented by meditations on hands and feet — the first tools used by humans to move toward these more exalted realms.