Sometimes I really want to paint somebody and I don't get a photograph that I want to work from.
quote by Chuck Close
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Paint Me Down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im walking into studio
Consider strange appeal
Paint me in the home
Im brushing up on sketchbook
Designs for love unreal
Paint me in the home
Oil and skin youll need to buy it
Consider what I mean
She sinks beneath thr moving pictures
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im soaking up the surface
Conceaiving new idea
Paint me in the home
Shes oiling up her subject
But all still life is here
Paint me in the home
All the boys with framed dimension
A cover up on lust
Hell take his pain and paint it over
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A photograph never grows old. You and I change, people change all through the months and years, but a photograph always remains the same. How nice to look at a photograph of mother or father taken many years ago. You see them as you remember them. But as people live on, they change completely. That is why I think a photograph can be kind.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sign-Board
I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.
I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother's pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile,
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses to chat awhile.
I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him-
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.
And next I will paint a drunkard-
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathsome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.
I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling's side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin,
Labeled with one word-'lost,'
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.
The sin and the shame and the sorrow,
The crime and the want and the woe
That are born there in your workshop,
No hand can paint, you know.
But I'll paint you a sign, rumseller,
And many shall pause to view
This wonderful swinging signboard,
So terribly, fearfully true.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Signboard
I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.
I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother’s pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses a chat awhile.
I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him –
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.
And next I will paint a drunkard –
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathesome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.
I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling’s side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin
Labelled with one word – ‘Lost’
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.
The sin and the shame and the sorrow,
The crime and the want and the woe
That are born there in your workshop,
No hand can paint, you know
But I’ll paint you a sign, rumseller,
And many shall pause to view
This wonderful swinging signboard,
So terribly, fearfully true.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At some point in life the world's beauty becomes enough. You don't need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough.
quote by Toni Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I paint German artists whom I admire. I paint their pictures, their work as painters, and their portraits too. But oddly enough, each of these portraits ends up as a picture of a woman with blonde hair. I myself have never been able to work out why this happens.
quote by Georg Baselitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Photograph
Of all the worldly goods I own,
Of all that I possess,
One photograph means more to me,
Much more than all the rest.
Who took this precious photograph
I couldn't really say;
I only know the subject is
More lovely than the day.
A face so radiant, so serene,
And known and loved so well;
This photograph I hold so dear,
I'd never give or sell.
True beauty comes from deep within,
It's something you can't buy;
It's captured on my photograph,
And cameras never lie.
It may be silly fancy,
And mock me if you will;
But when I choose to look at it
All time is standing still.
I know I'm looking at the past,
But I don't care, you see
My Mother's eyes are filled with love,
And looking right at me.
Written Nov 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paint my eyes in flowers
paint my hands in dragons
paint my back in windings
paint my arms in lightening
paint my neck in anks
my forehead intricate lines
paint my shoulder butterflies
paint my heart in henna
in henna of red in henna of black
body paint my heart
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Michael Caine
Well get ya ya ya
Well get ya ya ya
(I am michael caine)
La la la la la la la la
Hes walking where Im afraid I dont know
I see the firemen jumping from the windows
Theres panic and I hear somebody scream
He picks up useless paper and puts it in my pocket
Im trying very hard to keep my fingers clean
I cant remember tell me whats his name
(my name is michael caine)
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
The sun is laughing its another broken morning
I see a shadow and call out to try and warn him
He didnt seem to hear just turned away
The quiet fellow follows
And points his finger straight at you
He had to sacrifice his pride, yes
And throw it all away
(I am micheal caine)
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
His days are numbered he walks round and round in circles
There is no place he can ever call his own
He seems to jump at the sound of the phone
Staring out the window theres nothing he can now do
All he wanted was to remain sane
He cant remer hisemb own name
(my name is michael caine)
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
All I wanted was a word or photograph
All I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Paint body art beautiful
her majesty the hand
with nail graffiti polish
pain in henna red
paint in henna black
paint paint my heart
paint body art faithful
faithful to the strokes
paint in strokes divine
paint in strokes of red
paint in strokes of black
paint paint my heart
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Work
Work never killed anyone,
Smithers said, a fair day’s
work for a fair day’s pay.
You continued to paint
the wall, your hand rising
and falling with the brush.
Tell that to those who died
in Auschwitz and other camps
or the archipelago of gulags
in Russia, you moodily replied.
Those were foreigners in
different times and different
places, he said, your average
person never died from the
labours of over work.
The paint was an awful green,
the wall was bland, above,
a window allowing dim light.
Some stilled died from labours
pushed to the limits, you sighed.
Smithers scratched his ass
and said, there’s always those
who’ve shirked and died.
You stood back watching
the paint dry, on a freshly
painted white glossed door,
was caught a fly, wriggling in
the stickiness, waiting to die.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday Afternoon
I can think of better days
As I look into your eyes
And I feel that in a way
I know that youll be alright
And he walks for a mile
Its his style
Baby never acts wild
Feels hes invencible
He walks for a while
But I never ask why
He needs his time in isolation
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Im gonna whisper in your ear
Ive a lot of things to say to you
Ill give you all my universe
Youre all I want and thats for sure
And he walks for a mile
Its his style
Baby never acts wild
Feels hes invencible
He walks for a while
But I never ask why
He needs his time in isolation
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
In your darkest hour
Take my hand and Ill show you
Understand it much better
Ill make sure you get there
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: Whither Thy Art, Man?
Yes, men and women, paint their eyelashes,
And dye their hair in hues and paint their nails;
And wear head-bands, multi-colored sashes,
And paint the tortoises and shells of snails.
Some paint their bodies fully or one-half;
Some paint their country’s flag over their face;
Some look like leopards, lions, clowns that laugh;
Some tattoo pictures or paint words so base.
Some paint their naked bodies as if dressed
Or apply stickers of men, Gods or beast;
Their art on human skins looks to them best
And dance in ritual for a sumptuous feast.
The art of man has gone so crazy now,
For men paint Dogs, cats, cattle, also cow.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paint
Don't paint me red,
Red is for bold women that use cheap scent
Don't paint me blue
Blue is for sadness and regret
Don't paint me green
Green is for envy and not to be seen
Don't paint me black
black is for the night and I love the light
Don't paint me white
White is for virgins and me, I love a flirtin'
Don't paint me orange
Orange is vile and I have some style
Don't paint me brown or grey or cream
these colours are boring and really not me.
Paint me in silver, platinum or gold
so I remain precious as I grow old.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I photograph the things that I do not wish to paint, the things which already have an existence.
Work Of Art
Life is a ‘work of art”, and humanity is the biggest part.
We draw and paint masterpieces, and write the
Histories of each generation.
Just to show that we’ve been here
Because in our lives we live in fear.
Paintings, pictures, movies and words
With all this knowledge we still don’t learn.
For we create our heavens, and we create our hells
Look around you and you can tell.
Wars, hunger, poverty and hate
We better stop before it’s too late.
We’re already destroying all that nature is giving
“is this what we call living? ”
(if you want to see the “work of art” of humanity
Then take a white canvas and paint
“A large black dot”.
For that is humanity destroying the clean beauty
That the lord has given us.)
This canvas a work of art? Who is to say?
Can you express this life in a better way!
“Work of art” it is anything and everything that
Man puts in their minds, and it becomes
A part of the times.
For “perception becomes your reality”
And this is the work of art that I see.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If you scratch a great photograph, you find two things; a painting and a photograph.
quote by Janet Malcolm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I was invited to photograph Hollywood. They asked me what I would like to photograph. I said, Ugly men.
quote by Imogen Cunningham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
They used to photograph Shirley Temple through gauze. They should photograph me through linoleum.
quote by Tallulah Bankhead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Whatever precautions you take so the photograph will look like this or that, there comes a moment when the photograph surprises you. It is the other's gaze that wins out and decides.
quote by Jacques Derrida
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!