Sentences with phrase «under bright lights while»

Not exact matches

While the result was not one that they wanted, I think that it showed they are ready to compete under the bright lights with the League's best..

Viewed under a microscope, rods evenly irradiated with UV light have very bright points at both ends while only weakly glowing otherwise.

It offers medium to full coverage while still being lightweight without drowning out your natural glow, perfect for minimizing your enlarged pores for your next interview with someone closeup, or a night out where you want to avoid looking greasy under the bright lights.

LED headlights (which turn as you corner) are a shade under # 700, while LED «Matrix» headlights, (complete with auto - dimming and a navigation - based feature that automatically lights up junctions brighter) are about twice that.

I had no issues reading the display under a multitude of circumstances, including in bright lighting and while riding a Long Island Railroad train.

The Windows Phone Lumia 900 was actually found to be the best performer under bright ambient light, while the iPhone 4 and Samsung Galaxy S tied for second place.

Another important consideration for any retailers getting into the reef business is that while most fish look their best in full, bright light, corals look the most spectacular under actinic (or blue) lighting.

, 1976 traces Acconci's early actions and performances, including FOLLOWING PIECE (1969), in which he followed passers - by on the street until they entered private spaces — SHADOW - PLAY (1970), in which he shadowboxed with a bright light shining behind him while moving in front of a wall — OPENINGS (1970), during which a camera focuses on Acconci's stomach as he pulls out his body hair, the film ends when Acconci is hairless — SEEDBED (1972), during which he audibly masturbated for eight hours a day under a temporary floor at the Sonnabend Gallery in New York while visitors walked overhead — THE RED TAPES (1976 - 77), a three - part epic that merges video space with filmic space, evolving into complex amalgam of narrative strategies, photographic images, music and spoken language.

Using dark blues, bright whites, and occasionally high - key colors, the artist creates outstanding letter - like forms that push forward with a slight pulsation, especially depending on the quality of the light that illuminates it, while the painted field as a whole changes under different viewing conditions.

, 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,

Its sharp, bright backlit keys help you type while you are working under low - light condition or in the dark.