Bleeding Heart

I got back into painting again this week. Here is my latest creation. It's not my best work, and also not my preferred subject to paint, but for not painting for over a year it was a decent effort. There were a lot of "nots" in that sentence...I'm staying with my preceptor and his wife in Simcoe so the painting will be a gift to them from me for their hospitality. If I don't end up having a good time there, I'll just pick up a block of cheese for them in Simcoe and keep the painting for myself! haha. But I'm pretty sure that things will turn out well...he did win Preceptor of the Year.


I decided to look up how the plant came to be named "Bleeding Heart", but I haven't found anything substantial yet, other than the obvious resemblence of the flower to a heart. Then I decided to find other things related to "bleeding heart" and low and behold a plethora of poetry appeared. Interestingly, the definition of bleeding heart is: A person who is considered excessively sympathetic. Here is a sampling of how people interpret a bleeding heart, or his or her bleeding heart, through poetry. It's actually pretty depressing stuff so I'll try to make my next entry a happier one.

Bleeding Heart
by Linda M Hill

Bleeding Heart
Someone stop the pain.
Blood falls like the pouring
rain.
Crying - screaming- from
somewhere inside-
No where to run - no where
to hide.

Bleeding Heart
So cold - dark - and lonely.
Frozen dark pain - is all
I can see.
Melting deeper in a pit
of despair-
Oh God, why doesn't
anyone care?

Bleeding Heart
Open - raw - hurting - crying-
Something inside of me is
dying.
Can't stop the pain - it rages
on-
All will to live and love
is gone.

Crying - Screaming - from
somewhere inside-
I feel like so much of me has
died.


To Speak the Language of a Bleeding Heart…
by Dena L. Moore

To speak the language of a bleeding heart…
Crumpled papers falling,
Lightning-tight words flying
As if…
As if there were still hope
Of mending the open wound
With childlike wonder,
With wanton abandon and endless
Fascination with the way two bodies touch…

No, it can’t be so simple as that…
The wingless fae with a wand of spun gold
Could not chase the red river away.
Erect a dam, tend it well…as maybe, just maybe,
The flow of blood, the arching white-hot lance
Of pain may slow…a bit.

To speak the language of a bleeding heart…
Soft tears falling,
Gentle touches soothing
As if…
As if there were still hope
Of mending this bloody, open wound
With childlike wonder,
With love calmly given as two bodies touch
In fascination with the blood that still flows…


The Bleeding Heart
Written by Nolan Miller

I never knew a heart could bleed so much
and still sustain life
When you left I thought that
I would bleed to death
But then one day
I met this incredible woman who
Not only loved me back but incredibly
She loved me first

As each day passed I found that
I missed you less
Until one day I didn't miss you at all
With impeccable timing you chose that day
To make your dramatic reappearance
Saying "The biggest mistake I ever made
was to let you go!"

Oh no. The biggest mistake that you ever made
Was to think that I would ever take you back.

Time is ticking

As annoying as they are, I kind of wish that I could post an emoticon here. It would project the emotion of "Grrrrrrr" (slitty eyes and purse lips). The other day I found a white hair. It wasn't so much a white hair as it was a faded hair. I'm not sure if this is a sign of things, although I don't know when it first appeared because it is from the back of my head; the only good thing about it is that I won't be constantly reminded of it. Anyhow I can add that to a list of physical ailments that I have this year. Sore neck. Disturbed sleep. Excessive sweating. Chest pains.

Since Warren thinks I'm quote-worthy I might as well record my "deep thoughts":

"Religion is a either a point of common interest or a deal breaker."

"I don't want my profession to define me, but to just tell something about who I am."

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Long lost childhood favourite. One spoonful of condensed milk straight from the can into my mouth. Yum.....it's a wonder I'm not obese by now.

Was I on a date that I didn't know I was on?

One of my classmates was leaving for the summer and he had asked me if I wanted to get dinner or dessert before he left. Seeing as he had asked me before I had made any other plans I agreed. I ended up going out to dinner with another friend because I hadn't seen her in a while, and I just preferred to have dinner with her. I also didn't want to have dinner with him so as not to give him the wrong impression. When I did return from dinner, I called and said that we could still get dessert if he had the time. I totally didn't expect him to be free because he needed to pack for his trip to Asia. He said that he still wanted to have dessert and that he had some strawberries and chocolate...at this point it was starting to get weird. Then he asked if I wanted to go up to the rooftop...even weirder.

Alright, it's harmless, I told myself. Despite feeling that it was turning into more than just saying bon voyage, I thought that if he did ask me out, I would be prepared, and simply say no in the most diplomatic way. I kept my distance, made sure to sit as far away as possible, and did not to make any inappropriate eye contact. Anyhow, I managed to get through dessert unscathed. There was no flirting, no talk about anything related to "us", and no questions about dating. After getting to the elevator and to my floor, he decided to get off and see me to my door...weirder still. Then I unlocked my door, said "have a great summer" and gave a goodbye hug as I would do with anyone. But he wouldn't let go...then he started to push his cheek against mine...WEIRDER...I was screaming inside! I quickly rolled away, opened my door, said goodbye and then scooted into my apartment.

Is that how things go these days? You accept an invitation for dessert and then it turns into a date? With expectations at the end? In no way was I giving off signals that I liked the guy. In no way did I appear that I was interested or wanted to have any sort of "relations". What ever happened to being explicit, like "will you go out with me?", "do you like me?", "want to go out on a date?" I know it may be awkward, but isn't it better to just have things out in the open?Since when do things boil down to a game of reading signals and making assumptions? Was I on a date that I didn't know I was on?

Frustrated.

And stupid.

Photos

"Generations"
I'm home now for a little bit. I came across this picture that was taken last summer when my grandma was visiting. My grandma is so cute! I also look a little more healthy: I was being fed well and I also have a decent tan going on.

"Derek"
My dad also gave me this photo. It was a cut-out from the Londoner magazine. Derek's an old high school pal. He was a great friend for going to coffee or to play some badminton. Just a fun guy to hang out with. This photo of him basically portrays his personality to a tee! I thought it was classic!

Chivalry is dead

You know what, all of this talk about gender equality is a bunch of bull. Sure we have been given the vote; we get the opportunity to compete for the same jobs as men. We can wear pants, but we can also wear skirts too. We can bring home the bacon, cook it and eat it too. Being called a bitch is a good thing - it means we're powerful.

BUT until men take the surname of women after marriage, we don't truly live in a gender equal society.

Until that happens, men need to step up to the plate with some chivalry. What ever happened to treating a woman with respect? Romance? Manners? With all the other things that men do to boost their ego, like working out, bragging to their friends, making lots of money, owning superficial possessions, maybe taking care of his woman should also be something that they consider as contributing to his manhood.

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I think I'm taking the train from now on. I hate the Greyhound. As we all know, we'd rather sit by ourselves on the bus. This way we can put our stuff on the other seat, maybe put our feet up, and also avoid talking to people, especially creepy and smelly people. Anyhow, I was so close to achieving this when some guy comes to the back of the bus where I was sitting. He probably passed 15 potential seats, but he chose to sit beside me. Nevermind that my bag and purse were sitting on the chair beside me, and I made sure to stare out of the window so as to avoid making eye contact. Might I add that I was also listening to my minipod. All the tricks of the trade. Anyhow, he has the audacity to pick up my purse and he says, "Is this your purse?" He hands it to me, and motions with his eyes for me to move my other bag. WHAT THE HELL? What a jerk. He could have sat down beside anybody else. He didn't even ask if he could sit there? It's called being polite. My bag was sitting there, jerk. He was a pretty young guy, probably around my age. Very grumpy, and I do recall a foul stench coming from him. Like I said, chivalry is dead.