Sentence examples for rough cement from inspiring English sources

Only the date of burial and case number have been scratched into the rough cement.

The building resembles a bunker, with rough cement cladding and mirrored windows, the creation of a friend, the London architect David Adjaye, who renovated the structure for them.

Combining found objects with shapes created from rough cement, Carol Borachievesachievestrongng results in three-dimensional works that consider the power of the object, especially its traditions in non-Western societies.

Although Mr. Shahid's beloved quarterly is deceased, the victim of a button-down moment in fashion, it's business as usual at Shahid & Company Advertising and Design, a sprawling loft at 435 Hudson Street with bare white walls and rough cement floors.

David Hicks had originally designed the home, which he called Savannah, to resemble the ancient Egyptian temple of King Zoser and covered the walls with rough cement made with the pink Bahamas sand.

He fashioned a series of shelves on one end of their living space for their meager possessions, and he pounded studs into the walls in preparation for sheetrock and plaster to cover the rough cement, when he has the money to do so.

Three girls got in the car, and we drove down a narrow, beaten track through the trees to a rundown complex of rough cement-block buildings.

We have used this acquisition system to measure the BRDFs of a wide range of time-varying phenomena which include the drying of various types of paints (watercolor, spray, and oil), the drying of wet rough surfaces (cement, plaster, and fabrics), the accumulation of dusts (household and joint compound) on surfaces, and the melting of materials (chocolate).

We also show the developed analytic Time-Varying BRDF functions for a number of interesting natural phenomena including the drying of various paints (watercolor, spray, and oil), the drying of wet rough surfaces (cement, plaster, and fabric), and the accumulation of dusts (household and joint compound).

Last Tuesday, as night settled into the soft blue of the East River, Luis Rivera stood at the end of a rough pier of cement just off 20th Street and hoisted a tall pole with two small American flags.

The rough stone and cement blocks of earlier Berlin walls had offered ­little opportunity for anything but slogans, awkwardly lettered with a broad brush, and the odd wobbly sight joke.