They say the thing that makes us all human is the fact that despite our gender, race, nationality or social standing if we are cut, we bleed.
A friend of mine is such a die-hard Los Angeles, Lakers fan he said to me one night (while we should have been doing something constructive like studying for our final exams), “Rilzy, I bleed purple.”
I was impressed by his depth of passion and immediately started thinking about it. Would I just bleed hemoglobin or would I, like my friend, reflect my passion through each drop of blood? It didn’t take very long for me to come up with my answer. I would bleed black – the colour of ink, the colour of words on computer and on Kindle screens that have become as much of my life as breathing.
I’d like to think I appreciate beauty. I love photography, art galleries and nature. I am often awed by the wonder of turquoise water crashing against the shoreline or clouds painting pictures in the sky but nothing awes me the way words on paper do. In fact, I’d venture to say that a more beautiful sight doesn’t exist than a sheet of A4 paper with words spilled directly from your soul. Nothing.
What would you bleed?