Psychology is still trying to explain the perception of the position of an object in space, along with its shape, size, and so on, and to understand the sensations of color.
quote by James J. Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The task of physiological psychology remains the same in the analysis of ideas that it was in the investigation of sensations: to act as mediator between the neighbouring sciences of physiology and psychology.
quote by Wilhelm Wundt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The attitude of physiological psychology to sensations and feelings, considered as psychical elements, is, naturally, the attitude of psychology at large.
quote by Wilhelm Wundt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Object
You know you turn me on
Eyes so white and legs so long
But don't try to talk to me
I won't listen to your lies
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
Sophisticated smile
You seduce in such fine style
But don't try to fool me
'cause i can see through your disguise
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
But i don't mind
I just don't care
I've got no objection
To you touching me there
Object object
Object object
Object object
Object object
You know just what to do
Lick your lips
And i want you
But don't try to hold me
'cause i don't want any ties
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
But i don't mind
I just don't care
I've got no objections
To you touching me there
You're just an object object
Object object
You're just an object
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On one hand, to be able to go from one direction in the sky to study such an object to another direction to study another object, and on the other hand to be able to maintain accurately the position in space.
quote by Claude Nicollier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Move with time, awaiting a pleasant surprise in each of your position in space
Time is not what is shown in a clock
Time is not what the second hand passes
Time is not what the minute or hour hands show
Time is also not what our calendar indicate
Time is not the day, the week, the month or the year
Time is not sun rise or sun set
Time is not the morning, noon, afternoon, evening or even night
Time is indeed the point or location
You occupy in the space
Me, you and every one and every thing
On this surface of the earth
Are on a continuous move
As the earth rotates on its axis
And keeps moving around the sun
We all keep moving
And we do not know or even the clue to know
Whether we reach the same location in space again for a second time
It may look similar
But, it is all relative position with respect to the
Position of the other objects on the space
Duration for a thing to complete is thus
Is also not the time measures we employ
In absolute terms,
It is this the distance in space you traveled
Between the beginning and finishing of an event
It is also true you do not travel back as there is no reverse gear
In this universal path
Blame not your time, and
If anything to blame it is your position in the space
Since you are never stagnant
Your position will soon change
And things will soon be different and in your favor too sometimes
Move with time
Awaiting a pleasant surprise in each of your position in space
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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New Sensations
I dont like guilt be it stoned or stupid
Drunk and disorderly I aint no cupid
Two years ago today I was arrested on christmas eve
I dont want pain, I want to walk not be carried
I dont want to give it up, I want to stay married
I aint no dog tied to a parked car
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, new sensations
Talkin bout some new sensations
Talkin bout some new sensations
I want the principles of a timeless muse
I want to eradicate my negative views
And get rid of those people who are always on a down
Its easy enough to tell what is wrong
But thats not what I want to hear all night long
Some people are like human toulinols
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, ooohhh, new sensations
Talkin bout some new sensations
Talkin a new sensations
I took my gpz out for a ride
The engine felt good between my thighs
The air felt cool, its was forty degrees outside
I rode to pennsylvania near the delaware gap
Sometimes I got lost and had to check the map
I stopped at a roadside diner for a burger and a coke
There were some country folk and some hunters inside
Somebody got themselves married and somebody died
I went to the juke box and played a hillbilly song
They was arguing about football as I waved and went outside
And I headed for the mountains feeling warm inside
I love that gpz so much, you know that I could kiss her
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, ooohhh, new sensations
Talkin bout your new sensations
Talkin new sensations
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, new sensations
...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For an object under the eye will appear very different from the same object placed above it; in an inclosed space, very different from the same in an open space.
quote by Marcus V. Pollio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A love has no shape
Love has no shape, color, creed or caste
It has wide range and can never die out or last
To think of it is madness and sheer waste
Can any one explain whether it has sour or sweet taste?
The God has put one sensational device
It bits on ceaselessly with mute voice
It can cry, laugh and express anger
With all helplessness when faced with hunger
The wound can be healed with medicine
The happiness and sadness can also be seen
The heart may bleed but there won’t be trace
Only some lines ma reflect on sullen face
If love is to be believed then can be found in ant region
If it that is to be worshipped then it needs no religion
All religions teach and profess same contents
Never have they come out with any adverse statements
I tried to search some drawbacks or lacuna
It was present everywhere and in all arenas
Al spoke of one language with same spirit
The love and peace should lead the way even in dm light
So long there is love there is chance
It is to be tried by all and not at once
It has unique way of handling the crisis
The magic spell of it always forms the basis
Can love be altered to hate or poison?
Can there be any criteria or specific reason?
As love has no color or fragrance to smell
How poison can be expressed or written well?
Some scientists tried to test the poison
There was no need to explain its position
What did it cost to human life as result?
It has quality which is real and in built
Let love be not confined to any creed
Let it not be give any type of wrong feed
It must mushroom in natural way
No one may have any objection to express or say
It has push pull action
There is no swing or any reverse reaction
It will pulsate regularly to fine the refuge
Both the companions may have no reasons to refuse
If you can not facilitate then do not obstruct at least
It may give different color and twist
It will be pushed to corner and never meet again
The position may not come true to regain
It is hard fact of life that we must realize
If necessary then consent and oblige
Do not create any type of the blockade
Let it excel without being lost or fade
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Color Me
I wish that they would color me
The color of the rose
The color of the spring
Or the color of the snow.
If again they’d color me
The color that I would be
Would be the color I could see
As long as I am free.
As I wish that they would color me
The color of the trees
Or the color of the leaves
And then that color I would be.
I wish that I was a rainbow
With the many colors of the sky
Or the single color of a star
Shimmering in the night.
And if again they would color me
The color that I would be
Would be the color that is me
Is the color that I could see.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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There has been a great gulf in psychological thought between the perception of space and objects on one hand and the perception of meaning on the other.
quote by James J. Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In visual perception a color is almost never seen as it really is - as it physically is. This fact makes color the most relative medium in art.
quote by Josef Albers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Art Is Dead
Colors and ideas just rush in
As has been observed and seen
It is one of the tricky jobs
Inspiration is nature from where he has to rob
If not then any object
People can't reject
As his brush and color
May soon find great honor
Painter can brush the lines
They may appear as happy lines
Someone may read it as an art
Others may find it sales object in mart
His heart bleeds in brush
It finds great rush
Through his eyes and on canvass
The shape appears at last
Who may sing in praise?
Who may love it and chase?
No one except bidders
Or genuine art readers
That is his worth
Real asset and wealth
He has contentment
With lots of praise and comments
It may adore anybody's wall
Receive attention and call
Painter may be lost
As it has been sold at cost
It is an art piece
With lovely message of peace
That is worth to understand and read
Before anyone says 'an art is dead'
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Any psychology of sign systems will be part of social psychology - that is to say, will be exclusively social; it will involve the same psychology as is applicable in the case of languages.
quote by Ferdinand de Saussure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Heaven, Color Does Not Matter
In Heaven, color does not matter;
There, there is no money, no color,
No hypocrisy, no quandary, no beauty,
No nepotism, no size and no celebrity.
On earth inequality reigns,
When it pours, it rains,
When it rains, it pours;
Different weather patterns
Warrant different types of doors
And different types of lanterns.
In Heaven, these are not necessary,
The temperature varies very often,
Every holy minute and divine second,
Keeping counts will be silly and crazy.
Believe me, there is no limousine
For earthly and mundane stars;
Everything under the screen
Shall become dust, including fancy cars.
In Heaven, color does not matter,
There, everybody is equal;
There is no king, no corporal,
No corrupt judge and no criminal lawyer.
In Heaven, one single iota matters: the soul,
Which always flies like a wingless writer.
Spirit has no color, no smell,
No shape, no life and no propeller.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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Not Like Any Other Color
This is no joke
This is no egg-yoke
Black is not like any other color
Black has its unique beauty
Its own charm and splendor
It is the color of the reality
It is the absence of the sun
It is the exile of the moon
Black is the last color
That we will see before crossing the border.
Black can be positive
Or negative
Depending on someone’s perception
Interest or observation
Because of ignorance
And lack of experience
Many neophytes unfortunately use that color
As a scapegoat, as a traitor
Who can stab in the groin or in the back
Charcoal is black, coffee is black.
At times, it may not be apparent
Black is beautiful and different
It is the color of the night
It is the absence of light
It is the last color
That we will see before crossing the border
Where no color exists afterwards
Where there are no sounds, no words
No opinions, no aroma and no prejudice
There live absolute serenity and peace.
poem by Hebert Logerie
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Watching From Their Windows
A wealth of sensations,
Are presented for many to choose.
And from which to pick.
These sensations exist,
At one's fingertips!
But somehow the action,
Is not allowed to be permitted.
The availability of variety,
Does not explain why some prefer to sit...
In the daily complaining,
How their lives are spent...
Watching from their windows,
As the wind outside whips and shifts...
A boring accumulation of snow drifts.
And 'this' they find in the Wintertime,
To lock their minds upon...
As if guarding.
To ensure someone comes along,
To shovel or plow...
Their fixations away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Tears Softly Land
On the white canvas
My tears softly land
I know color is precious
And it is in my hand.
No color could wash them
The tears black and white
Through times ever the same
They dropp to blur my sight.
It comes in the shape of a face
A look forlorn and sad
Pleading for only a little space
From a race obsessed and mad.
I know color is precious
And it is in my hand
Yet white remains the canvas
By tears that softly land!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Language is not a handmaiden to perception; it is perception; it gives shape to what would otherwise be inert and dead. The shaping power of language cannot be avoided. We cannot choose to distance ourselves from it. We can only choose to employ it in one way rather than another.
quote by Stanley Fish
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Painting from nature is not copying the object; it is realizing one's sensations.
quote by Paul Cezanne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Color? (Hope)
what color
was the dust
from which the stars
were made?
what color is the hunger
written on the child's face?
what color is justice,
forgiveness, desire, truth?
what color is the wind....
the rain, gravity,
and knowledge?
what color is equality?
what color is freedom?
what color is eternity?
what color is redemption?
what color is God?
what color were the nails
that hung Jesus on the cross?
what color was enlightenment
falling on the Buddha as he sat
'neath that tree?
what color is prejudice, hatred,
fear, greed, apathy.....
what color your skin?
nay, what color is your blood?
and what color are the eyes
of humanity staring through the darkness?
and what color is hope?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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