Zoom Picture Quotes

To dream" means to focus and zoom the photos of destiny called visions for clearer view, manipulation and exploitation.

At this point in history, our society tends to elevate and reward the specialist...This concentrated focus has brought some benefits...It may also be a modern malady. Specialization, when taken too far and allowed to define who and what we are, becomes limiting. It robs us of our wholeness and our self-sufficiency. It misses the big picture and confines us to a narrow zoom. And it leaves us at the mercy of experts.

Often the reason you can’t see the solution is because you’re too close to the problem. Zoom out a little, zoom out a LOT and look at the big picture. This is a phenomenon similar to what psychologists call “cognitive restructuring”—shifting the way in which your problems are presenting themselves in your life.

The strategy is about putting a good team together to give you a multifaceted picture zooming into the business culture.

Putting It into Practice: Neutralizing Negativity Use the techniques below anytime you’d like to lessen the effects of persistent negative thoughts. As you try each technique, pay attention to which ones work best for you and keep practicing them until they become instinctive. You may also discover some of your own that work just as well. ♦ Don’t assume your thoughts are accurate. Just because your mind comes up with something doesn’t necessarily mean it has any validity. Assume you’re missing a lot of elements, many of which could be positive. ♦ See your thoughts as graffiti on a wall or as little electrical impulses flickering around your brain. ♦ Assign a label to your negative experience: self-criticism, anger, anxiety, etc. Just naming what you are thinking and feeling can help you neutralize it. ♦ Depersonalize the experience. Rather than saying “I’m feeling ashamed,” try “There is shame being felt.” Imagine that you’re a scientist observing a phenomenon: “How interesting, there are self-critical thoughts arising.” ♦ Imagine seeing yourself from afar. Zoom out so far, you can see planet Earth hanging in space. Then zoom in to see your continent, then your country, your city, and finally the room you’re in. See your little self, electrical impulses whizzing across your brain. One little being having a particular experience at this particular moment. ♦ Imagine your mental chatter as coming from a radio; see if you can turn down the volume, or even just put the radio to the side and let it chatter away. ♦ Consider the worst-case outcome for your situation. Realize that whatever it is, you’ll survive. ♦ Think of all the previous times when you felt just like this—that you wouldn’t make it through—and yet clearly you did. We’re learning here to neutralize unhelpful thoughts. We want to avoid falling into the trap of arguing with them or trying to suppress them. This would only make matters worse. Consider this: if I ask you not to think of a white elephant—don’t picture a white elephant at all, please!—what’s the first thing your brain serves up? Right. Saying “No white elephants” leads to troops of white pachyderms marching through your mind. Steven Hayes and his colleagues studied our tendency to dwell on the forbidden by asking participants in controlled research studies to spend just a few minutes not thinking of a yellow jeep. For many people, the forbidden thought arose immediately, and with increasing frequency. For others, even if they were able to suppress the thought for a short period of time, at some point they broke down and yellow-jeep thoughts rose dramatically. Participants reported thinking about yellow jeeps with some frequency for days and sometimes weeks afterward. Because trying to suppress a self-critical thought only makes it more central to your thinking, it’s a far better strategy to simply aim to neutralize it. You’ve taken the first two steps in handling internal negativity: destigmatizing discomfort and neutralizing negativity. The third and final step will help you not just to lessen internal negativity but to actually replace it with a different internal reality.

When people talk about falling in love, often they’ll say things clicked into place. I didn’t have that. It was more like things relaxed. Everything I’d been holding onto was suddenly filled with air, and I didn’t feel quite as crowded as I had before. My thoughts get quieter when I’m in love, I guess. It’s like when you’re looking at a picture of a busy street, filled with cars and people and all their lives and worries and thoughts, and at first, it’s overwhelming, it’s too busy for you to see anything but the sum of its parts, but once you zoom in, everything gets clearer. Suddenly the blurs you were looking at aren’t blurs, they’re people, and you feel a connection to it. The bigness doesn’t seem so big anymore.

Hiro looks up, focuses his gaze on Earth, zooms in for a look. As he gets closer, the imagery he's looking at shifts from the long-range pictures coming in from the geosynchronous satellites to the good stuff being spewed into the CIC computer from a whole fleet of low-flying spy birds. The view he's looking at is a mosaic of images shot no more than a few hours ago.

Under the pretense of wanting to record the history of my brother’s year at college, I’d asked to take a picture of Sam with his roommate. Unfortunately, the zoom on my digital camera had somehow been pressed—by a renegade finger, I assumed—and I’d only been able to get a really good close-up shot of Brad. No evidence of Sam in sight. Gosh, darn. What a shame! The photo was now the background wallpaper on my computer desktop.

Here are two equations mathematicians have found that also approach the ideal value of Φ. Don’t be scared or anxious about them. Don’t even try to solve these equations. Just look at them. Each is a picture, a mathematical mandala clothing the infinite as it zooms by. Notice how each is composed solely of unity interacting with itself, embedded Monads unfurling as far as we can see in a self-replicating rhythm, like mirrors facing each other whose reflecting image gets smaller and smaller.

Maybe that’s his game, though,” I said. “The hunt for one soul, again and again.” “Then why are you still here?” “The other women lived with him for a long time too. Maybe he wants to wait until my defenses are down, and then-“ “Wow, Clea, you are so jaded. You found your soulmate. People wait their whole lives for this. It’s the most amazing thing in the world, and it’s happened to you. Can’t you just accept it and be happy?” What she said made sense, but… I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Without looking at Rayna, I said, “He doesn’t act like he’s my soulmate. Sometimes I think maybe he liked the other women more. I think maybe he wishes I was one of them.” Rayna was silent. This was something I’d never heard. “This is seriously, deep,” she finally said. “You’re feeling insecure because you’re jealous…of yourself.” “I didn’t say I was jealous…” “You’d rather think he’s a serial killer than risk being with him and finding out he doesn’t like you as much as he liked…you?” She scrunched her brow and thought, then tried again. “Yous? Anyway, you know what I mean-the other yous.” “Forget the jealousy thing, okay? There are other reasons to doubt him too. Ben doesn’t trust him at all. He thinks Sage is some kind of demon. He said there’s a spirit called an incubus that comes to women in their sleep, and-“ “Of course Ben said that.” Rayna shrugged. “He’s jealous.” “Of what?” “Ben’s crazy in love with you, Clea. I’ve been saying that forever!” “And I’ve been ignoring you forever, because it’s not true. You just want it to be true because it’s romantic.” “Did you not see the pictures of you from Rio?” I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?” Rayna pulled out her phone. “Honestly, I don’t know how you survive without Google Alerts on yourself. The paparazzi were out in full force for Carnival.” She played with the phone for a minute, then handed it to me. It showed a close-up of Ben and me at the Sambadrome that could only have been taken with a serious zoom. I felt violated. “I hate this,” I muttered. “Why? You look cute!” “I hate that people are sneaking around taking pictures of me!” “I know you do. Ignore that for the moment. Just scroll through.” There were five pictures of Ben and me. Four of them were moments I vividly remembered, pictures of the two of us facing each other, laughing as we did our best to imitate the dancers shimmying and strutting down the parade route. The fifth one I didn’t remember. I wouldn’t have; in it I had my camera up to my face and was concentrating on lining up the perfect shot. Ben stood behind me, but he wasn’t wearing the goofy smile he’d had in the other pictures. He was staring right at me with those big puppydog eyes, and his smile wasn’t goofy at all, but… “Uh-huh,” Rayna said triumphantly. She had climbed into my bed was looking at the picture over my shoulder. “Knew that one would stop you. There is only one word for the look on that boy’s face, Clea: love-struck. Which is probably why a bunch of websites are reporting he’s about to propose.” “What?” “Messenger. Don’t kill the messenger.” I looked back at the picture. Ben did look love-struck. Very love-struck. “It could just be the picture,” I said. “They caught him at a weird moment.” “Yeah, a weird moment when he thought no one was looking so he showed how he really felt.” I gave Rayna back the phone and shook my head. “Ben and I are like brother and sister. That’s gross.” “Hey, I read Flowers in the Attic. It was kind of hot.” “Shut up!” I laughed. “I’m just saying, think about it. Really think about it. Is it that hard to believe that Ben’s in love with you?

Dear Padfoot, Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favorite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself. I'm enclosing a picture so you can see. You know it only rises about two feet off the ground, but he nearly killed the cat and he smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course, James thought it was so funny, says he's going to be a great Quidditch player, but we've had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don't take our eyes off him when he gets going. We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us and who dotes on Harry. We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first and Harry's not old enough to know it's his birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell — also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend, I thought he seemed down, but that was probably the news about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard. Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore, I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore could ever have been friends with Gellert Grindelwald. I think her mind's going, personally! Lots of love, Lily

Auto-Zoomar. Talbert knelt in the a tergo posture, his palms touching the wing-like shoulder blades of the young woman. A conceptual flight. At ten-second intervals the Polaroid projected a photograph on to the screen beside the bed. He watched the auto-zoom close in on the union of their thighs and hips. Details of the face and body of the film actress appeared on the screen, mimetized elements of the planetarium they had visited that morning. Soon the parallax would close, establishing the equivalent geometry of the sexual act with the junctions of this wall and ceiling. ‘Not in the Literal Sense.’Conscious of Catherine Austin’s nervous hips as she stood beside him, Dr Nathan studied the photograph of the young woman. ‘Karen Novotny,’ he read off the caption. ‘Dr Austin, may I assure you that the prognosis is hardly favourable for Miss Novotny. As far as Talbert is concerned the young woman is a mere modulus in his union with the film actress.’ With kindly eyes he looked up at Catherine Austin. ‘Surely it’s self-evident - Talbert’s intention is to have intercourse with Miss Taylor, though needless to say not in the literal sense of that term.’ Action Sequence. Hiding among the traffic in the near-side lane, Koester followed the white Pontiac along the highway. When they turned into the studio entrance he left his car among the pines and climbed through the perimeter fence. In the shooting stage Talbert was staring through a series of colour transparencies. Karen Novotny waited passively beside him, her hands held like limp birds. As they grappled he could feel the exploding musculature of Talbert’s shoulders. A flurry of heavy blows beat him to the floor. Vomiting through his bloodied lips, he saw Talbert run after the young woman as she darted towards the car. The Sex Kit.‘In a sense,’ Dr Nathan explained to Koester, ‘one may regard this as a kit, which Talbert has devised, entitled “Karen Novotny” - it might even be feasible to market it commercially. It contains the following items: (1) Pad of pubic hair, (2) a latex face mask, (3) six detachable mouths, (4) a set of smiles, (5) a pair of breasts, left nipple marked by a small ulcer, (6) a set of non-chafe orifices, (7) photo cut-outs of a number of narrative situations - the girl doing this and that, (8) a list of dialogue samples, of inane chatter, (9) a set of noise levels, (10) descriptive techniques for a variety of sex acts, (11) a torn anal detrusor muscle, (12) a glossary of idioms and catch phrases, (13) an analysis of odour traces (from various vents), mostly purines, etc., (14) a chart of body temperatures (axillary, buccal, rectal), (15) slides of vaginal smears, chiefly Ortho-Gynol jelly, (16) a set of blood pressures, systolic 120, diastolic 70 rising to 200/150 at onset of orgasm . . . ’ Deferring to Koester, Dr Nathan put down the typescript. ‘There are one or two other bits and pieces, but together the inventory is an adequate picture of a woman, who could easily be reconstituted from it. In fact, such a list may well be more stimulating than the real thing. Now that sex is becoming more and more a conceptual act, an intellectualization divorced from affect and physiology alike, one has to bear in mind the positive merits of the sexual perversions. Talbert’s library of cheap photo-pornography is in fact a vital literature, a kindling of the few taste buds left in the jaded palates of our so-called sexuality.

The bigger picture can only be seen from zooming out. This means sometimes you will need to step back and evaluate your life to discover where it’s going; only then can you decide what positive changes need to happen for progress to occur.

Zooming in on a leg or an arm or a particular muscle will give you a distorted view of who God is and what he is doing today. But if you zoom out and become part of the larger picture, then you’ll see the true Jesus.

It makes more sense to more flexibly zoom out to see the full picture of yourself;

It’s hard to predict what life will be like in a hundred years. There are only a few things we can say with certainty. We know that everyone will drive flying cars, that zoning laws will be relaxed to allow buildings hundreds of stories tall, that it will be dark most of the time, and that women will all be trained in the martial arts. Here I want to zoom in on one detail of this picture. What kind of programming language will they use to write the software controlling those flying cars?

Shame works like the zoom lens on a camera. When we are feeling shame, the camera is zoomed in tight and all we see is our flawed selves, alone and struggling. We think to ourselves, I’m the only one with a muffin-top? Am I the only one with a family who is messy, loud, and out of control? Am I the only one not having sex 4.3 times per week (with a Calvin Klein model)? Something is wrong with me. I am alone. When we zoom out, we start to see a completely different picture. We see many people in the same struggle. Rather than thinking, I’m the only one, we start thinking, I can’t believe it! You too? I’m normal? I thought it was just me! Once we start to see the big picture, we are better able to reality-check our shame triggers and the messages and expectations that we’re never good enough. In

one must at times zoom out to see the bigger picture

It was in this place where we were on the verge of losing our bodies that bodies became the most important, it was in this place of the great melting that it became important whether you called it pop or soda growing up, or whether your mother cooked with garlic salt or the real chopped cloves, or whether you had actual art on your walls or posed pictures of your family sitting on logs in front of fake backdrops, or whether you had that one Tupperware stained completely orange. You were zoomed in on the grain, you were out in space, it was the brotherhood of man, and in some ways you had never been flung further from each other. You zoomed in and zoomed in on that warm grain until it looked like the coldness of the moon.

3. Physical Zooming: Mood Follows Action We have covered this idea so far in the book, but to reiterate, one study took participants and sat them in a chair. They told participants to either lean forward so that they were on the edge of their seat, anticipating what was coming, or lean back in a fully reclined comfortable position. After getting into position, subjects were given a task to categorize a group of pictures. Those who reclined in the chair were more likely to choose broad categories, coming up with creative ways to make,

Then picture yourself zooming out and looking at it from the sky.

Shit gets scary when you look at the big picture. But if you zoom in to individual people, I think you’re more likely to feel better about the world.

Zooming in on a picture will show everything transparently.

The problem with looking at so much history from such a distance is that everything gets so crowded. Things are complicated in every period — you step back too far to get a generalised picture and you lose all the important, deciding details. Zoom in too far to get the detail and you’ll get lost in complexity and never find your way out.

I’m going to show you fate maps.” Despite myself, I was mesmerized by these huge pictures of fertilized eggs, so zoomed in, I could practically see the DNA strands waving like Tibetan prayer flags in the wind. Only these weren’t imprinted with prayers, but with prophecies. What would mine say? She’ll be great at snowshoeing. Shy in front of crowds. Obsessed with maps, yet perpetually lost. Stricken with wanderlust, but never allowed to go anywhere. (My parents considered Seattle, five hours away, an exotic locale.) “Weird, isn’t it? Someone’s destiny, right here?” Karin murmured to me. “. . . the genome mapping project will unlock DNA,” said Dr. Holladay, her face glowing with the promise of scientific discovery. “One day, we’ll be able to ascertain the genetic markers . . . for every disease.” But all maps lie, I wanted to tell Karin and the rest of the class and especially this geneticist. Even the best maps distort the truth. Something’s got to give when you take our three-dimensional world and flatten it down to a two-dimensional piece of paper: Greenland balloons; Africa stretches.

See the big picture and details of everything in your life (zoom out, then zoom in).

Put Lenin in a tuxedo and use him as a seat filler at the Academy Awards. At the Oscar ceremonies they have this big holding pen full of attractive people in gowns and tuxes and whenever the Academy gives away the awards for achievement in sound and everyone flees into the lobby, seat fillers are zoomed in so that the cameras scanning the audience won’t register any vacant seats. When Daniel Day-Lewis has to go to the bathroom, the cameras could zoom in and see a picture of Sigourney Weaver sitting next to … Leninl” DUSTY:

Yeah, well, I--” He stops and his eyes shift behind me, wide in amusement. I turn my head to find a couple straight out of the 1980s at the end of the gelato line. They’re both sporting mullets and faded jeans. White sneakers. When I notice the matching red fanny packs, I have to look away. “You should take a picture of that,” he says, resting his forearms on the table. “What?” I lean in closer and speak just above a whisper. “No way.” “Do it!” he insists. “Five euros.” He digs into his pocket and clanks down five coins. I sneak a peek at the unsuspecting couple. The man is wiping sweat off his face with a hanky. They’re too close. I’d never get away with it. “I can’t,” I say. “Pansy.” With a grunt, I switch my camera on and set it to automatic. I raise it to my face and start to twist my upper body. “No, wait!” he says. “You’re doing it wrong.” I drop the camera to my lap and face him. “What?” “You’re too obvious. You need stealth. Watch and learn.” He retrieves a small point-and-shoot camera from his pocket and aims it toward me. “Say cheese!” he says so loudly that I’m sure everyone around us is looking. “Uh…cheese?” “Done.” He hits a few buttons and shows me the display screen. There they are. Looked right at him too. Clever. But I can’t let him win. “Wow. That’s pretty pixelated. What kind of setting do you have that on?” He frowns. “It’s just zoomed in.” “Oh.” I reach to zoom out, but he pulls it away too fast. “What? Why can’t I see? Did you actually take a picture of me or something?” “Stealth.” He shrugs and my cheeks turn pink. “Guess these are my winnings.” The coins scrape across the table as he scoops them up to put in his pocket. “You didn’t even give me a chance to redeem myself,” I defend. “Excuses, excuses. Just admit I’m the better photographer.” He laughs, standing to shoot his empty cup in the trash. “Finished?” I nod and he tosses mine too. “Braver maybe, but better? Your camera doesn’t have enough buttons.

Ciao, Bruno!” someone calls from a boat puttering slowly into the marina. A hard line sets Bruno’s jaw for a split second before he smiles and turns. “Ciao, Mauro!” Bruno shouts back. Mauro? I lift my camera back up to my eye and zoom in to the white- and red-trimmed boat. It’s definitely the same scumbag from a few days ago. He’s glaring at me, but I click a picture anyway. Just in case I need to identify him in a lineup.

Here,” he says, removing my camera from its dry home and handing it to me to turn on. “I want to take a picture of you.” I spin all the way around to fully face him, my back to the village, and smile. He takes way more than one, zooming in and out, aiming up and down, every possible angle and frame width. He mumbles a few things in Italian between shots, and judging by the look on his face, he’s up to no good. Is this why he wanted me to wear my sundress? The temperature is suddenly roasting, my cheeks blazing. There’s a reason I like being on the other side of the camera. Finally I put my hand out in front of my face. “Okay, okay. I think you got enough.” He sets it down in his lap and cocks his head to the side, studying me. “You could belong here,” he says, his tone surprisingly serious. I turn from him and look back at the cluster of buildings, one on top of the other. A beautiful and unique place to visit, but to live long term? “I don’t know about that,” I say. “This could be your life.” He spreads his arms out as if to encompass the whole of Cinque Terre. And him.

I would love to tell you that being a content manager is easy. Straightforward. That you will be able to focus on what is most important and leave everything else aside. But a lot of it is learning to create something compelling in the middle of an absolute whirlwind. Learning to use a huge list of tools that need to be sharpened every day. It is about zooming out when you need big picture thinking, and zooming in when the details need to be ironed out. Managing content, business expectations, and human beings: all at once.

Every economics textbook will tell you that competition between rival firms leads to innovation in their products and services. But when you look at innovation from the long-zoom perspective, competition turns out to be less central to the history of good ideas than we generally think. Analyzing innovation on the scale of individuals and organizations—as the standard textbooks do—distorts our view. It creates a picture of innovation that overstates the role of proprietary research and “survival of the fittest” competition. The long-zoom approach lets us see that openness and connectivity may, in the end, be more valuable to innovation than purely competitive mechanisms. Those patterns of innovation deserve recognition—in part because it’s intrinsically important to understand why good ideas emerge historically, and in part because by embracing these patterns we can build environments that do a better job of nurturing good ideas, whether those environments are schools, governments, software platforms, poetry seminars, or social movements. We can think more creatively if we open our minds to the many connected environments that make creativity possible.

With a few sweeps of her thumbs, the picture zoomed off into the ether, along with her note: Long-lost relative of yours? She slid her phone into her clutch to find her mother watching. “What?” Bryce muttered. But Ember only motioned toward the frieze. “Who does it depict?” Bryce checked the sliver of writing in the lower right corner. “It just says The Making of the Sword.” Her mother peered at the half-faded etching. “In what language?” Bryce tried to keep her posture relaxed. “The Old Language of the Fae.

By zoom out, I simply mean to expand your focus to see the bigger picture.

The secret to listening well to others, I have found, is to listen to myself first. It is to begin by going to the balcony. If I can’t find a way to pause and resource myself, how can I find the capacity to listen? If I don’t zoom in to what I really want, how can I zoom in to listen to what they really want? If I don’t zoom out and see the bigger picture, what incentive do I have to listen? Balcony is a prerequisite for bridge.

After dinner, I’m unpacking in the hotel room when McKinnon enters. I pull the framed photo of Hartley out of my bag and set it on the nightstand. It’s a zoomed in version of the photo from the engagement party, with me cropped out. “You don’t mind, right?” I ask McKinnon. His lip curls at the picture, and I fucking know he’s thinking about the other night at the bar, when I told everyone Hartley liked me while they were together.

Consider its power through a real-world application of perspective. How does the world look? What is it made of? If you plant your nose in the ground, you get one perspective. Fly above it in a helicopter, you get another perspective. Launch into space in a rocket, and you gain yet another perspective. They are all of the same thing: our world. But it looks and smells and feels very different depending on which perspective you view it from. The same is true for the people in our lives. And our own problems. A person viewed in the context you encounter them in might seem irrational. But if you zoom out and look at their life in a wider view, their actions might make sense. The same is true of the problems you encounter. Some might not seem solvable in the narrow view that is our mind’s default. But, if you change your perspective, if you step back and see the bigger picture, you may find a breakthrough. With your nose in the ground, you can’t see a passage through the mountains. Climbing a mountain, you can’t see the ocean beyond. In the air, you might spot the sea, but you might miss the dangers lurking on the ground. Perspective is a powerful thing.