A Quote by Janet Macunovich

Be pleased with your real garden, don't persue the perfection of a picture. What you see in a photo lasted only as long as the shutter snap. — © Janet Macunovich
Be pleased with your real garden, don't persue the perfection of a picture. What you see in a photo lasted only as long as the shutter snap.
In the orchard and rose garden I long to see your face. In the taste of Sweetness I long to kiss your lips. In the shadows of passion I long for your love.
Inside every one of us is a garden, and every practitioner has to go back to their garden and take care of it. Maybe in the past, you left in untended for a long time. You should know exactly what is going on in your own garden, and try to put everything in order. Restore the beauty; restore the harmony in your garden. If it is well tended, many people will enjoy your garden.
You ever watch a football game and get totally into it? Why? It's not a real battle. It's just a game somebody made up. So how can you take it seriously? Or, you ever see a movie that made your heart about jump out of your chest? Or one that made you cry? Why? It wasn't real. You ever look at a photo of food that made your mouth water? Why? You can't eat the picture. . . . . . Same thing with water towers and God. I don't have to be a believer to be serious about my religion.
The wonder is that communism lasted so long. But then again, modern poetry lasted a long time, too.
The dozens of people working on this at Digital Domain, they knew that you couldn't get away with almost photo real, because we had real real in the room. You have real real in the cut every four or five shots, so you have this constant yardstick built into the footage by virtue of there being no real robot there. So it became the standard of photo reality that the VFX team had to match.
Pretension is a poor joke that you play on yourself. Snap out of it. Recognise your strengths, work on your weaknesses. Real achievement is liking what you see in the mirror every morning.
You have to realize, in real life, the gun battle lasted for over three hours, and the movie's only two hours long. My hat's off to all those stuntmen who laid it on the line and hurt themselves doing what they had to do to get that done because in real life, we all died, and the only reason I'm sitting here is because of modern medicine.
If, I can someday see M. Claude Monet's garden, I feel sure that I shall see something that is not so much a garden of flowers as of colours and tones, less an old-fashioned flower garden than a colour garden, so to speak, one that achieves an effect not entirely nature's, because it was planted so that only the flowers with matching colours will bloom at the same time, harmonized in an infinite stretch of blue or pink.
In the early days of picture-taking, the exposure shutter had to stay open for a long time, so you had to stay really still.
When I read something, I picture that scene in that detail. That becomes very similar to composing a photo in real life.
I am not good at noticing when I'm happy, except in retrospect. My gift, or fatal flaw, is for nostalgia. I have sometimes been accused of demanding perfection, of rejecting heart's desires as soon as I get close enough that the mysterious impressionistic gloss disperses into plain solid dots, but the truth is less simplistic than that. I know very well that perfection is made up of frayed, off-struck mundanities. I suppose you could say my real weakness is a kind of long-sightedness: usually it is only at a distance, and much too late, that I can see the pattern.
In the garden I see only your face From trees and blossoms I inhale only your fragrance.
These days I think the composers of music influence me more than any photographers or visual creators. I see something exciting or lovely and think to myself: 'If Papa Haydn or Wolfgang Amadeus or the red-headed Vivaldi were here with a camera, they'd snap a picture of what's in front of me.' So I take the picture for them.
Cowards never lasted long enough to become real cowboys.
everyone who is human has something to express. Try not expressing yourself for twenty-four hours and see what happens. You will nearly burst. You will want to write a long letter, or draw a picture, or sing, or make a dress or a garden.
Complete and total perfection will come about only when we feel that our perfection is no perfections as long as the rest of humanity remains imperfect.
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