the wall was streaked. the wall was painted. and i knew that beneath the muck and blood had been windows that children had hid behind. and what kind of monster would do this? paint an entire playground with the blood of a civilian. this was so vicious.
She had painted the entire picture with her back against the wall. Afterwards it sat in the back of her closet. It was never meant to be looked at, only remembered. She painted to put the scene behind her.
I remember Keith telling Tony to paint him a picture. It was his father’s art set. Keith gave it to Tony as a present. Keith kept asking me, “Has Tony painted me a picture yet? I am looking forward to it. You said he was good.”. My brother painted a copy of The Mona Lisa in the seventies. It was fabulous. Unfortunately Keith died and he never did get around to painting a picture for Keith. What a shame!
The woman peered out from under her cloak, hiding her painted face from the downpour. “You’ll see it at midnight, underneath St.Andrew’s chapel,” she whispered to the gentleman, before tossing a bundled package out into the rain. The horses of her black carriage whinnied as they were whipped to quickly get away; left behind in the mud, the man picked up the package. He had gotten the instrument he came for.
I painted a picture of you and I on the night of october it was dark yet the colours of this painting were so bright that even the night sky couldn’t taint its brightness, like you and I, how we were…
i was lonely one day so i decided to paint. I st down and painted, but then i got bored so i called my best friend and he painted on me. I was a human canvas, nothing inappropriate or naything but just artistics freedom, the human body can be the best canvas sometimes.
The fences of the little maritime town had been painted in pastel, but the paint was peeling in long flakes off of the weather beaten wood. Just past them, the salty water lapped at the feet of the town, kissing it. The air was chill, as it always was.
Painted. She painted a picture for me with her mind. She painted. Painted. The little wooden toy was painted blue, and faded into the wood grain. The baby put it in its mouth and tasted the pine, the softness of the wood, the homey blueness of the paint. It stayed on the shelf for years after the teething marks were there, followed by toys of another sort…
i already wrote about painted. about thirty seconds ago. so for that reasons, the same idea i have 90 seconds ago is the same exact idea i have right now. well, this is boring than. one minute is a long time.
He painted the wall, he painted the floor, hell he even painted the dog. All of a sudden he realized that hard work wasn’t so fact, actually it was FUN! He couldn’t imagine not painting, but now the question came, what should he color up next? And which color should he pick? Oh, he was not going to be bored now.
i painted a picture of a flower, it was really pretty with the bright colors of orange, yellow, and green. It turned out to be a sunflower. Those flowers are my favorite. With their tall stalks they could grow up to 8 feet tall. I want to run in a field of sunflowers one day.
art architecture why is my mom talking i want to paint seems like a good day to be outside i like bright colors orange mandarin orange judith weber why did they spell it with two b’s on the test i don’t understand how a company can be that idiotic why do you want me to lie to customers they are so nice
The wall is red. I chose the color because I really thought it would reflect the current. Politics. I do see now how it works. People believe what they know; and what they know is not true… I don’t completely understand how worlds may inevitably collide, but I do offer resistance.
the walls were painted white, no, not white. the walls were painted sea shell cream, the hint of blues and yellows apparent only after a second, third, scrutinizing look.
once upon a time she painted
blue and red and gold and gray
flowers all with yellow centers
just like in children’s drawings
such a shame she’s not a child.
As Leo painted the bright yellow colour onto Katherine’s house, he glimpsed the pretty blonde woman getting out of her car, carrying a paper bag filled with groceries. She immediately set the brush down, and watched her struggle with her keys. This was his chance.
a coat of color that covers a surface. when something is painted, it tries to look prettier, more vivid. makeup, house painting, paintings. weird that the word “pain” is in it. does it hide pain?
In the height of summer, I visited a place called Painted Rock, where the Lake Michigan water glowed aquamarine like a tropical shoreline. But one toe dip into the chilly waves reminded me where I was.
Everything was painted. My hair, my skin, my nails, the dirt beneath my nails. He has discovered me. He has seen me yet I never really saw me. He told he would paint me. But this, this was just..fucked. That fucking stalker and his high megapixel damm camera! He has seen me and I have never seen him.
Stretching over boundless horizons, a figure of yellow and pink stands before the precipice, poised and waiting. Waiting for something, or someone, she can never see, captured as wholly as a painting on canvas, a permanent fixture on a dull, white wall.
So i think its really weird when people have painted faces at like sports events and what not. Who created that in the first place? Also it seems like paint never comes off easily, so their skin would probably be like blueish for a while..like Avatars.
There were so many colors. Colors I could never had imagined if I didn’t see him painting them into my world. His voice were the reds I couldn’t comprehend. His eyes a set of blues that had been unseen. He was everything a painting should be.
when i entered the house, I noticed a color of red. The color made me feel nervous. When I entered the next room i was flushed with the color blue. It made me feel cool and colected. I stayed in the blue room for 30 minutes pondering the ideas that colors can change the way you feel. I enjoyed those thoughts and left to go have some tea.
Painted means there is color. There are many styles of paintings for example impressionism. Impressionism is associated with french artists like Monet, Renoir, Degas etc.
he painted a hole in the fence so he could spy on the neighbors. it worked for a while, though he did not fully understand what he saw. the couple next door looked like cartoon llamas and he dreamed of riding them.
I painted a sky of blue. At least, that’s what I think he said. Yes, I can hear him now quite clearly… He says the sky is made of an interesting and excited hue of aqua – almost as beautiful as its brother the sea. That’s just what God said. To me.
I painted a word across the sky with my finger. I painted a canvas with only one stroke of a brush. I painted with my eyes closed as if I was blind. I painted the lighthouse that belongs next to the sea, deep in the woods. I painted so I could bring objects, colours, lines, shapes and ideas alive and let them feel something and somewhere new. Painted.
He painted her with fire. After he was done painting the house. It was so much more than acryllic, or watercolor, you couldn’t package up flames and spread it out with a roller. And paint couldn’t change like the flames did, it couldn’t move, it couldn’t singe and char and burn. And it colored and colored and everything it touched it destroyed.
The sun painted her face like a bright summer morning. She pulled the sheets closer to her, the cold creeping into the light linens that surrounded her body like a comforting touch. She pressed her face into the pillow once more, praying that sleep would soon find her again.
Painted turtles rock my world. I mean really…How many turtles do you know that can just show up to a mascarade as they are? You don’t! Because only the painted turtle is prepared to come as they are. They are the only living things that are prepared to party! Snapping turtles are always grumpy, so they fail life. I don’t know too many types of turtles, but painted turtles…yeah. They rock. What else can I say?
the wall was streaked. the wall was painted. and i knew that beneath the muck and blood had been windows that children had hid behind. and what kind of monster would do this? paint an entire playground with the blood of a civilian. this was so vicious.
She had painted the entire picture with her back against the wall. Afterwards it sat in the back of her closet. It was never meant to be looked at, only remembered. She painted to put the scene behind her.
I remember Keith telling Tony to paint him a picture. It was his father’s art set. Keith gave it to Tony as a present. Keith kept asking me, “Has Tony painted me a picture yet? I am looking forward to it. You said he was good.”. My brother painted a copy of The Mona Lisa in the seventies. It was fabulous. Unfortunately Keith died and he never did get around to painting a picture for Keith. What a shame!
The woman peered out from under her cloak, hiding her painted face from the downpour. “You’ll see it at midnight, underneath St.Andrew’s chapel,” she whispered to the gentleman, before tossing a bundled package out into the rain. The horses of her black carriage whinnied as they were whipped to quickly get away; left behind in the mud, the man picked up the package. He had gotten the instrument he came for.
I painted a picture of you and I on the night of october it was dark yet the colours of this painting were so bright that even the night sky couldn’t taint its brightness, like you and I, how we were…
i was lonely one day so i decided to paint. I st down and painted, but then i got bored so i called my best friend and he painted on me. I was a human canvas, nothing inappropriate or naything but just artistics freedom, the human body can be the best canvas sometimes.
The stars in the sky were painted by God so that it would be easier to see your face.
The fences of the little maritime town had been painted in pastel, but the paint was peeling in long flakes off of the weather beaten wood. Just past them, the salty water lapped at the feet of the town, kissing it. The air was chill, as it always was.
Painted. She painted a picture for me with her mind. She painted. Painted. The little wooden toy was painted blue, and faded into the wood grain. The baby put it in its mouth and tasted the pine, the softness of the wood, the homey blueness of the paint. It stayed on the shelf for years after the teething marks were there, followed by toys of another sort…
i already wrote about painted. about thirty seconds ago. so for that reasons, the same idea i have 90 seconds ago is the same exact idea i have right now. well, this is boring than. one minute is a long time.
He painted the wall, he painted the floor, hell he even painted the dog. All of a sudden he realized that hard work wasn’t so fact, actually it was FUN! He couldn’t imagine not painting, but now the question came, what should he color up next? And which color should he pick? Oh, he was not going to be bored now.
i painted a picture of a flower, it was really pretty with the bright colors of orange, yellow, and green. It turned out to be a sunflower. Those flowers are my favorite. With their tall stalks they could grow up to 8 feet tall. I want to run in a field of sunflowers one day.
art architecture why is my mom talking i want to paint seems like a good day to be outside i like bright colors orange mandarin orange judith weber why did they spell it with two b’s on the test i don’t understand how a company can be that idiotic why do you want me to lie to customers they are so nice
The wall is red. I chose the color because I really thought it would reflect the current. Politics. I do see now how it works. People believe what they know; and what they know is not true… I don’t completely understand how worlds may inevitably collide, but I do offer resistance.
the walls were painted white, no, not white. the walls were painted sea shell cream, the hint of blues and yellows apparent only after a second, third, scrutinizing look.
painted, were my intentions, in proud gold. shining as the sun reflected upon it with innocent curiousity.
once upon a time she painted
blue and red and gold and gray
flowers all with yellow centers
just like in children’s drawings
such a shame she’s not a child.
As Leo painted the bright yellow colour onto Katherine’s house, he glimpsed the pretty blonde woman getting out of her car, carrying a paper bag filled with groceries. She immediately set the brush down, and watched her struggle with her keys. This was his chance.
a coat of color that covers a surface. when something is painted, it tries to look prettier, more vivid. makeup, house painting, paintings. weird that the word “pain” is in it. does it hide pain?
painted roses red, white and blue
sick and twisted country,
everything is painted from what it really is
nothing is real
everything is painted
In the height of summer, I visited a place called Painted Rock, where the Lake Michigan water glowed aquamarine like a tropical shoreline. But one toe dip into the chilly waves reminded me where I was.
Everything was painted. My hair, my skin, my nails, the dirt beneath my nails. He has discovered me. He has seen me yet I never really saw me. He told he would paint me. But this, this was just..fucked. That fucking stalker and his high megapixel damm camera! He has seen me and I have never seen him.
Stretching over boundless horizons, a figure of yellow and pink stands before the precipice, poised and waiting. Waiting for something, or someone, she can never see, captured as wholly as a painting on canvas, a permanent fixture on a dull, white wall.
A painted truth… More palatable… An edible love – now, albeit artificially flavored. Factory tested heart, proofed against failure… and love.
So i think its really weird when people have painted faces at like sports events and what not. Who created that in the first place? Also it seems like paint never comes off easily, so their skin would probably be like blueish for a while..like Avatars.
This painted on smile is slowly melting in the heat of the pressure to give up. To give in. To say, “No more. I’m done.”
Each day is new challenge. A new struggle.
A new fight.
One that’s worth fighting.
There were so many colors. Colors I could never had imagined if I didn’t see him painting them into my world. His voice were the reds I couldn’t comprehend. His eyes a set of blues that had been unseen. He was everything a painting should be.
when i entered the house, I noticed a color of red. The color made me feel nervous. When I entered the next room i was flushed with the color blue. It made me feel cool and colected. I stayed in the blue room for 30 minutes pondering the ideas that colors can change the way you feel. I enjoyed those thoughts and left to go have some tea.
Painted means there is color. There are many styles of paintings for example impressionism. Impressionism is associated with french artists like Monet, Renoir, Degas etc.
poured down painted lady upon the perch. painted face faced the paintbrush. painted fingers clasp and pick.
I painted over the old photograghs. My heart hurt doing so, but it was better to not see his face.
he painted a hole in the fence so he could spy on the neighbors. it worked for a while, though he did not fully understand what he saw. the couple next door looked like cartoon llamas and he dreamed of riding them.
i painted a picture. It was blue, red, yellow, pink, and purple. I love painting.It was fun to painta picture.
I painted a sky of blue. At least, that’s what I think he said. Yes, I can hear him now quite clearly… He says the sky is made of an interesting and excited hue of aqua – almost as beautiful as its brother the sea. That’s just what God said. To me.
I painted a word across the sky with my finger. I painted a canvas with only one stroke of a brush. I painted with my eyes closed as if I was blind. I painted the lighthouse that belongs next to the sea, deep in the woods. I painted so I could bring objects, colours, lines, shapes and ideas alive and let them feel something and somewhere new. Painted.
He painted her with fire. After he was done painting the house. It was so much more than acryllic, or watercolor, you couldn’t package up flames and spread it out with a roller. And paint couldn’t change like the flames did, it couldn’t move, it couldn’t singe and char and burn. And it colored and colored and everything it touched it destroyed.
brush
wall in motion falls onto canvas skin image enlighten skills timeless un washable un tainted lyrical meaning life long.
The sun painted her face like a bright summer morning. She pulled the sheets closer to her, the cold creeping into the light linens that surrounded her body like a comforting touch. She pressed her face into the pillow once more, praying that sleep would soon find her again.
I painted a picture of a vermouth drinking reindeer claiming that it had postmodern significance. Urban Outfitters now sells it as a graphic tee.
Painted turtles rock my world. I mean really…How many turtles do you know that can just show up to a mascarade as they are? You don’t! Because only the painted turtle is prepared to come as they are. They are the only living things that are prepared to party! Snapping turtles are always grumpy, so they fail life. I don’t know too many types of turtles, but painted turtles…yeah. They rock. What else can I say?