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Quotes about collage, page 3

Pedro Almodovar

The challenge to me as a director was for the audience to see the film as going on in a straight line, so that they did not sense all of these break-ups. I did not want a film to be a collage of all these images.

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But when I worked on a painting I would do it from a drawing but I would put certain things I was fairly sure I wanted in the painting, and then collage on the painting with printed dots or painted paper or something before I really committed it.

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Blood Injury Free

Bus was
Very croud
Collage students
Are sunded over...
Bus did not
Stop in bus stop...
Inside over fighting
For driver to students...
Sitting seats are
Flying...
Bus glass was wonded...
Bus stoped on
With out bus stop...
Blood injury free...!

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I say that I can't make anything up. I think of myself as a collage artist. I'm cutting and pasting memories of my life. And I say, I have to live a life in order to tell a life. I would prefer to tell it because telling you're always in control, you're like God.

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Collage Collective Art

among us few poets
in our collective collage
it is always fitting

among such words
aspiring to beauty
fitting for me to say

'I love the lines
the way your hearts
and minds think'

it would be beautiful
to speak of our art
together with one mind

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Mirrors!

mirrors...
dont lie,
even cracked

with time.
dont make excuses,
nor try to please,

the truth's the truth.

deemed good or bad,
a human collage,
light and darkness,

right and wrong.
the hidden thoughts
deny the right to judge,

and bring us back....
to the mirrors!

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Ignition

Like a butterfly pinned
in a collage, fluttering.
Death makes a deal.

I was appalled
standing on the edge
watching the withering body.

The lake drowns me.
Seagulls were waiting
for a renaissance.

It is not even midsummer.
The planting of the kiss
remains incomplete.

No sex was involved
in baring midriff.
Moon ignites the legs.

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Wilderness

Why did you have to come in this world
to become a medical waste?

There was no urgency to dropp in
and then remain unnoticed,
with no symptoms of life.
Later scooped by a dumper
you are thrown on garbage.

Vertical hope becomes synonym
for a peak spewing lava.
A collage sits in my eyes.
Yet I wipe out tears of anonymity.
The night comes to hold me in black arms.

After the squall
there was the rain and
unrelenting moon.

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True/False

The sky is purple through my eyes,
A bright collage of everythingness.
I see that you're staring at me,
But I don't believe that anything is wrong.
I believe that the truth is full of holes,
And the lies are more truthful than the truth.
I believe that anyone can tell a lie,
But it takes someone special to tell the truth.
I see the grimy green lining to the clouds-
Maybe there's some truth/lies to my insanity.

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Anticipation

Springs in the air, can’t you smell it?
To me the scent can’t be explained
So it makes no sense in trying.
All I know is springs on its way.
Whenever that familiar scent
Arouses these nostrils of mine
It automatically triggers
A colorful, dreamlike collage
In my anticipating mind;
Muted and inanimate till
The first robin redbreast warbles
Its early morning springtime song.
So, in the meantime, I languor
In this feeling called spring fever.

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