It was like waking up from a reverie or witnessing a real life transformation into technicolor like in The Wizard Of Oz or to be more current, it was like playing with Instagram filters.
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And he picked up the horn and he went into his bedroom for what he felt was for 15 minutes and he came out six or seven hours later and he had been in a reverie the whole time.
Or is it a bucolic reverie the elements of which have come to them not through direct experience, but the media?
It would be, from an economist's point of view, the Pennsylvania oil fields of man-hours, a beautiful gusher, a bonanza of reverie washing upon our shores.
His control of the scene is remarkable, but it makes one laugh, too, because in so much of the surrounding interview material, the director describes himself as a kind of medium through which a given movie passes, a mere craftsman in the service of reverie.
And I tried to find a good balance between the educational stuff that makes a dad proud and straight entertainment that puts childhood reverie before academic accountability.
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That stark, almost religious reverie is followed immediately by "Demon Days, " a less pointed song of disquiet further softened by another Grant McLennan melody.
The reverie from being high in the hills gazing out across a rugged landscape that stretches away in all directions into the haze brings the usual sense of calmness and well-being.
If he did, his reverie lasted just 10 balls after the break as Jones groped at a Brett Lee delivery a yard wide of off-stump and chipped to the gully fielder.
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The exhibition begins indoors, with portraits that were a shock because they captured women in the privacy of their homes, lost in reverie (Monet's "Madame Louis Joachim Gaudibert, " 1868) or engaged in quotidian rituals like removing a glove (Charles Carolus-Duran's "The Lady With the Glove, " 1869).
In this exquisite, impressionistic, quasi-autobiographical reverie, from 1993, the British director Terence Davies celebrates, with meticulous grace, a Liverpool boyhood in 1955-56.
And so I leave you this morning as a gray mist spreads across the castle stonewall, gazing out at the rushing waters beyond lost in an Irish reverie.
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