I have an iPod that I like to use with the backlit screen but it is always dead. Like my phone, which died not too long ago. I just pulled out the camera and it shouted at me “Low Battery”. I try to keep the backlit screen dim to save the battery but that evidently doesn’t
Travis
Her life now was backlit by a glow of freedom, she could come and go as she pleased. Gradually this became normal to her, and her shyness, her awkwardness when talking to other people, faded away.
tonykeyesjapan
You are the midnight summer dream
that was the backlit feeling that I always searched for
behind lamp posts
and household desktop lights;
behind candles and the glow of flashlights;
in light up sneakers and firefly wings.
I missed you always being behind me,
letting me block whatever threatened to harm you.
I was the front page, and you were buried in the wanted ads,
but I think you liked it that way.
She flipped her long hair over her shoulder with a flick of her hand. She was backlit and appeared to glow with some sort of inner beauty. Her bright eyes and gentle smile shone even though her face was in shadow. He reached for her hand, amazed when she reached for his in return. How had he managed to deserve something so beautiful?
Silouhettes against a white screen, the absence of a glowing, the movement and the character and the feeling of that black on white, backlit.
Macauley
The backlit woods were a scary place to visit. We had to travel through the long, winding road to reach the old, rickety cabin that my great-grandmother called home. Although we dreaded the long trip, we always had great adventures once we arrived.
misti
The glowing screen on the computer throws out words that trickle into your eyes like stream of light.
My computer screen appears backlit as I write in this space. That is, there is light undergirding the characters that appear when I hit the keys. I hope that this is what my oral communication looks like as I share my thoughts: backlit with the God’s truth.
P J Colando
The backlit alley scared me. But at the same time it intrigued me. Excited me.
I saw her backlit in the outdoor restaurant and I felt as if I knew her.
Her hair was familiar and the way she laughed. I planned how to speak to her.
Robin
It was dark in there. The only light that really did anything emanated from the stage. It was smoky from the steam machines that hissed periodically. Strobe lights flashed intermittently, and I was worried that I was going to get a headache. The heavy smell of sweat and tangy perfume, with a slight hint of tobacco, wafted over me and I wanted to choke. Was I really about to walk in there?
My life didn’t make any sense at the time. I was young and considerably stupid. And despite that, it was the suffering that pushed me to do it. It was the dreaded pain that pushed me out of the small, barely operable, bedroom window.
Waking up to a sky of perfectly shaded blue, with just enough warmth shining through the puffy little wisps of cloud made my heart almost stop. This was not the same Texas sky I normally woke up to. In fact it was almost unnatural looking, which scared me. Once my body woke up a bit, I started to stretch out my stiff arms and half asleep legs And that’s when I noticed the sand. I was covered all over in white specks, gritty and soft to the touch. “There is sand in my hair.” Is the only thing I could blurt out into the nothingness.
Olivia
silhouettes writhing
slowly
one candle and the moon
i shiver silent
not like me to watch but
i’ve been alone for days
The camera was arranged in front of the new girl. She was innocent and pure, and the photographer made sure that this was pronounced. He motioned for the light to move behind her. Backlit, her hair glowed and she was angel.
From behind you could see her glow, that outline in gold and white. She was burning a path ahead, each step in precision towards the horizon. Had it been me walking away, I would have looked back to make sure. But she never did.
Grace
The big movie theatre had its own theatre that backlit the rest of the office.
We took photos today. The trees backlit against an orange sky. A filter had come down over my eyes and I could not see you in the same way as before. I could see the cracks in your face, illuminated by the low sun.
“See, that’s the beauty of it; it’s not backlit, so it’s easier on your eyes.”
“Uh huh.” I said, looking uninterestedly at the e-reader. “So, how do you read it in, say, the dark?”
The salesman swallowed before offering me what was no doubt supposed to be a placating smile. “Since people read during the day, this defeats the issue of sunlight bouncing off the screen-”
“Yeah, that’s great.” I said, waving him off. “But you didn’t answer my question. If it’s not backlit, how does it work in the dark? Like, say, when I’m on the light-rail after work? Or in the car during a roadtrip? Or on a night flight?”
He didn’t answer. And that was answer enough.
With a pop and a hiss the flames took and he gasped, transfixed. He should be running over the field but his feet froze in the ground and his eyes blurred in the glare. They’ll be coming soon, he knew, to find me here with charred fingers, warming in the glow of my masterpiece. He lit a cigarette and waited. So hot.
on the stage his body was backlit, so that you could see every hair on his arms, every hair even those on his nose. behind him, his shadow, more interesting to watch than him in reality. you could follow the shadow while listening to his voice and now that was a great show. something about seeing his face ruined the mood. i thought how it must be awful for him, to be backlit, because then you could see everyone in the audience clearly. no spotlight blindness to protect him up there
i saw you standing there
among the trees laced with light
the back lit florescent
drowning you in a silhouette
i look to you and see a shadowed face
one that couldn’t look my way
in the midst of illusion.
i tried to grasp yet couldn’t.
Backlit is from across the room could make you seem scary, but it could be taken as a halo effect. Depends on the situation and the person. Love being behind the camera and seeing someone else all lit up with their hair, makeup and clothes perfect — ready to offer some sound advice or interesting information. Why do you think this lighting helps to make people become so interested in actors? They are people too. Only human beings. We’re all similar and yet very different.
sg
that’s what they called it, the backlit road, that was the road that no one dare go down. But Hailey didn’t care, she didn’t care about anything. If anything, she was hoping this was where it was all going to end, the pain and the suffering. The constant wish she could die, even though in the back of her mind she knew it wouldn’t work…that was the problem, she couldn’t d
nicole
this computer is backlit. It hurts my eyes if i look at the screen for too long. It is also not good if you are on devices that are backlit right before you go to bed,. Backlit devices simulate the light from the sun and trick your brain into thinking that it is daytime and doe
Christina
My iPad is backlit. I love to have something that is backlit to read in bed at night or in the car. I know someone that doesn’t like a device because of it being back lit. I don’t understand that but to each it’s
Tammy
backlit means to illuminate from behind. Like a candle in a decorative holder. I am thinking of a flame flickering behind trees and and beautiful scenery.
samantha
bathed in blue from fretboard to the skylight, arion stood on the stage at the warfield. brad laid down the backbeat from the dark behind, and the others were nowhere to be seen. the bass notes hit me in the heart, reminding me why i play.
amy
The backlit screen lit up her face as she sat in the pitch black room. It was 2am and everyone else had long since gone to bed, but she was still awake, still thinking. In a world where communication was always available at her fingertips, she had never felt so lonely.
I thought perhaps the house had a liability of being haunted, one which i did not want to enter, but, of course, being human, my nosiness got the better of me. I tiptoed carefully through the dusty hallway only to be welcomed by a delightful room backlit by a roaring fire and armchair, just as they are in books.
The light filtered in from the doorway where he stood. The light from the street caused him to be backlit, creating a halo around his form. She breathed in slowly, moving away as she hid in the shadows, clutching at her daggers and waited.
Tomorrow will be different. When the sun shines bright she is invisible. She will slide from sun beam to sun beam and nobody will be the wiser. It is only when night falls that they see her, glowing brighter than the street lights.
The glow from the streetlight filters out the garbage and graffiti, until all I see is her.
SuperSpecs
She was not very direct with her joy and love for life. She didn’t force it in everyone’s faces, didn’t wear it around her, didn’t do anything to make it obvious. She was a quiet person. But people knew she was different, as it was still there. It was just in the back, giving her an illuminating glow.
curtains in a theatre for a performance of an important concert by a previously reclusive artist who has reappeared on the music scene after 30 years exile.
Ian
the backlit air of the theater was remarkable. no one knew why it was executed that way, but it had a profound effect on the theatergoers, many of whom had come that night expecting an easy story with no weird surprises. little did they know, there was a mad genius at the helm. who was the star of the play? they couldn’t even see Scarlett Johansson’s almond eyes or pouty mouth- they only saw her hourglass silhouette and hoped it was really her.
I have an iPod that I like to use with the backlit screen but it is always dead. Like my phone, which died not too long ago. I just pulled out the camera and it shouted at me “Low Battery”. I try to keep the backlit screen dim to save the battery but that evidently doesn’t
Her life now was backlit by a glow of freedom, she could come and go as she pleased. Gradually this became normal to her, and her shyness, her awkwardness when talking to other people, faded away.
You are the midnight summer dream
that was the backlit feeling that I always searched for
behind lamp posts
and household desktop lights;
behind candles and the glow of flashlights;
in light up sneakers and firefly wings.
I missed you always being behind me,
letting me block whatever threatened to harm you.
I was the front page, and you were buried in the wanted ads,
but I think you liked it that way.
She flipped her long hair over her shoulder with a flick of her hand. She was backlit and appeared to glow with some sort of inner beauty. Her bright eyes and gentle smile shone even though her face was in shadow. He reached for her hand, amazed when she reached for his in return. How had he managed to deserve something so beautiful?
Silouhettes against a white screen, the absence of a glowing, the movement and the character and the feeling of that black on white, backlit.
The backlit woods were a scary place to visit. We had to travel through the long, winding road to reach the old, rickety cabin that my great-grandmother called home. Although we dreaded the long trip, we always had great adventures once we arrived.
The glowing screen on the computer throws out words that trickle into your eyes like stream of light.
My computer screen appears backlit as I write in this space. That is, there is light undergirding the characters that appear when I hit the keys. I hope that this is what my oral communication looks like as I share my thoughts: backlit with the God’s truth.
The backlit alley scared me. But at the same time it intrigued me. Excited me.
I saw her backlit in the outdoor restaurant and I felt as if I knew her.
Her hair was familiar and the way she laughed. I planned how to speak to her.
It was dark in there. The only light that really did anything emanated from the stage. It was smoky from the steam machines that hissed periodically. Strobe lights flashed intermittently, and I was worried that I was going to get a headache. The heavy smell of sweat and tangy perfume, with a slight hint of tobacco, wafted over me and I wanted to choke. Was I really about to walk in there?
I have a photograph of a mountain.
It is backlit. The sky is the brightest blue, and the mountains are dark. It hurts my eyes.
It is my favourite photograph.
My life didn’t make any sense at the time. I was young and considerably stupid. And despite that, it was the suffering that pushed me to do it. It was the dreaded pain that pushed me out of the small, barely operable, bedroom window.
Waking up to a sky of perfectly shaded blue, with just enough warmth shining through the puffy little wisps of cloud made my heart almost stop. This was not the same Texas sky I normally woke up to. In fact it was almost unnatural looking, which scared me. Once my body woke up a bit, I started to stretch out my stiff arms and half asleep legs And that’s when I noticed the sand. I was covered all over in white specks, gritty and soft to the touch. “There is sand in my hair.” Is the only thing I could blurt out into the nothingness.
silhouettes writhing
slowly
one candle and the moon
i shiver silent
not like me to watch but
i’ve been alone for days
The camera was arranged in front of the new girl. She was innocent and pure, and the photographer made sure that this was pronounced. He motioned for the light to move behind her. Backlit, her hair glowed and she was angel.
From behind you could see her glow, that outline in gold and white. She was burning a path ahead, each step in precision towards the horizon. Had it been me walking away, I would have looked back to make sure. But she never did.
The big movie theatre had its own theatre that backlit the rest of the office.
We took photos today. The trees backlit against an orange sky. A filter had come down over my eyes and I could not see you in the same way as before. I could see the cracks in your face, illuminated by the low sun.
“See, that’s the beauty of it; it’s not backlit, so it’s easier on your eyes.”
“Uh huh.” I said, looking uninterestedly at the e-reader. “So, how do you read it in, say, the dark?”
The salesman swallowed before offering me what was no doubt supposed to be a placating smile. “Since people read during the day, this defeats the issue of sunlight bouncing off the screen-”
“Yeah, that’s great.” I said, waving him off. “But you didn’t answer my question. If it’s not backlit, how does it work in the dark? Like, say, when I’m on the light-rail after work? Or in the car during a roadtrip? Or on a night flight?”
He didn’t answer. And that was answer enough.
she sat the reading her backlit kindle under the branches of the trees basking in the sun and enjoying the cool mountain air.
With a pop and a hiss the flames took and he gasped, transfixed. He should be running over the field but his feet froze in the ground and his eyes blurred in the glare. They’ll be coming soon, he knew, to find me here with charred fingers, warming in the glow of my masterpiece. He lit a cigarette and waited. So hot.
I saw their shadowy silhouettes behind the pulled shade.My wife and my best friend in a totally compromising position!
Strikingly separated from the background. I can touch nothing, feel nothing. I exist in a void, cushioned by a thin film of light.
I backlit the forground so everyone in the back could see what was going on up front.
on the stage his body was backlit, so that you could see every hair on his arms, every hair even those on his nose. behind him, his shadow, more interesting to watch than him in reality. you could follow the shadow while listening to his voice and now that was a great show. something about seeing his face ruined the mood. i thought how it must be awful for him, to be backlit, because then you could see everyone in the audience clearly. no spotlight blindness to protect him up there
i saw you standing there
among the trees laced with light
the back lit florescent
drowning you in a silhouette
i look to you and see a shadowed face
one that couldn’t look my way
in the midst of illusion.
i tried to grasp yet couldn’t.
Backlit is from across the room could make you seem scary, but it could be taken as a halo effect. Depends on the situation and the person. Love being behind the camera and seeing someone else all lit up with their hair, makeup and clothes perfect — ready to offer some sound advice or interesting information. Why do you think this lighting helps to make people become so interested in actors? They are people too. Only human beings. We’re all similar and yet very different.
that’s what they called it, the backlit road, that was the road that no one dare go down. But Hailey didn’t care, she didn’t care about anything. If anything, she was hoping this was where it was all going to end, the pain and the suffering. The constant wish she could die, even though in the back of her mind she knew it wouldn’t work…that was the problem, she couldn’t d
this computer is backlit. It hurts my eyes if i look at the screen for too long. It is also not good if you are on devices that are backlit right before you go to bed,. Backlit devices simulate the light from the sun and trick your brain into thinking that it is daytime and doe
My iPad is backlit. I love to have something that is backlit to read in bed at night or in the car. I know someone that doesn’t like a device because of it being back lit. I don’t understand that but to each it’s
backlit means to illuminate from behind. Like a candle in a decorative holder. I am thinking of a flame flickering behind trees and and beautiful scenery.
bathed in blue from fretboard to the skylight, arion stood on the stage at the warfield. brad laid down the backbeat from the dark behind, and the others were nowhere to be seen. the bass notes hit me in the heart, reminding me why i play.
The backlit screen lit up her face as she sat in the pitch black room. It was 2am and everyone else had long since gone to bed, but she was still awake, still thinking. In a world where communication was always available at her fingertips, she had never felt so lonely.
I thought perhaps the house had a liability of being haunted, one which i did not want to enter, but, of course, being human, my nosiness got the better of me. I tiptoed carefully through the dusty hallway only to be welcomed by a delightful room backlit by a roaring fire and armchair, just as they are in books.
The light filtered in from the doorway where he stood. The light from the street caused him to be backlit, creating a halo around his form. She breathed in slowly, moving away as she hid in the shadows, clutching at her daggers and waited.
Tomorrow will be different. When the sun shines bright she is invisible. She will slide from sun beam to sun beam and nobody will be the wiser. It is only when night falls that they see her, glowing brighter than the street lights.
The glow from the streetlight filters out the garbage and graffiti, until all I see is her.
She was not very direct with her joy and love for life. She didn’t force it in everyone’s faces, didn’t wear it around her, didn’t do anything to make it obvious. She was a quiet person. But people knew she was different, as it was still there. It was just in the back, giving her an illuminating glow.
curtains in a theatre for a performance of an important concert by a previously reclusive artist who has reappeared on the music scene after 30 years exile.
the backlit air of the theater was remarkable. no one knew why it was executed that way, but it had a profound effect on the theatergoers, many of whom had come that night expecting an easy story with no weird surprises. little did they know, there was a mad genius at the helm. who was the star of the play? they couldn’t even see Scarlett Johansson’s almond eyes or pouty mouth- they only saw her hourglass silhouette and hoped it was really her.