Policemen and security guards wear hats with a peak that comes down low over their eyes. Apparently this is for psychological reasons. Eyebrows are very expressive and you appear a lot more authoritative if you keep them covered up. The advantage of this is that it makes a lot harder for cops to see anything more than six foot off the ground. Which is why painting rooftops and bridges is so easy.
I find acting in contact lenses is bizarre to me, because there's just a giant filter between you and the world. I know it sounds painfully, ridiculously obvious, but it's true. You're just so detached.
Personally as a rider, I find the helmet distracts me. I can't hear as well and I can't see as well. I also believe loud pipes save lives and my pipes straight through with no baffles in them.
I can see you in the kitchen bending over a hot stove, and I can't see the stove
It is good that the window should be transparent, because the street or garden beyond it is opaque. How if you saw through the garden too? It is no use trying to 'see through' [everything]. If you see through everything, then everything is transparent. But a wholly transparent world is an invisible world. To 'see through' all things is the same as not to see.
Looking through the atmosphere is somewhat like looking through a piece of old, stained glass. The glass has defects in it, so the image is blurred from that.
Cameras get in the way of seeing.
You know why I don't like that camera? Because it prevents me from seeing you!
My eyes don't work, at least not fully, because they are blocked by disease. The scene around me appears through a kind of curtain, a haze.
The wall around the window does not create two worlds.
I see as much as doors'll allow, open or shut.
As a member of the audience I don't like it that I can't see what's going on in the eyes and in the face and in the most subtle responses of a performer when I'm more than a few rows back. I find it very frustrating.
I don't like putting glasses on and watching 3D. I don't mind wearing glasses, but it's the dimness of the light and the fact that you're filtering the light. Whatever 3D process is being used is a filtration of light, which means it's blocking some of the light.
If you close one eye and imagine a bright light constantly in front of the other eye, your vision is compromised. You can only see about 30 percent of what you should be able to see.
I actually had huge problems with my glasses steaming up all the time. I had to train very carefully around the limitations caused by wearing them.
There's a smartphone gait: the slow sidewalk weave that comes from being lost in conversation rather than looking where you're going.
You'll see in 'Carol' a lot of shots shot through windows, glass and awnings, with interruptions between where we are and where our object is. To me, I hope that that conjures the whole act of looking as a predicament, as something that is never easy and never completely attainable.
Ian paused and leaned closer to me so that I couldn't seem to see anything around his face, just snow and sapphire and ink.
I do, however, have tape over my eyepiece as well. What I think my peace is saying isn't, "Oh I have something to hide. I don't want you to look," it's more saying, "No thank you. I prefer you not look. I'm not giving you permission."
I hate cameras. They interfere, they're always in the way. I wish: if I could work with my eyes alone.
One can imagine having a procedural rule that anything ambiguous should be treated as the Taj Mahal unless we see that it is labelled "fog". The motorist replies: "What sort of rule is this? Surely the best guarantee I can have that the fog is fog is if I fail to see the sign saying 'fog' because of the fog."
He had the feeling that there was something physically behind his eyes, blocking the light.