Adventures in Sumi-E

Today I finally got around to doing my sumi-e homework. I couldn't do it before, because I was having a difficult time finding the right kind of paper. I was finally able to pick up some rice paper in Toronto on the weekend, and today I grabbed my pretty block of ink and got to work.



I got out the slate blending thingermabob (I'm lacking in terminology, so far!), put some water in it, and started mixing up some ink. Then I started painting. But my brush was too dry, so my bamboo suffered a drought:



I mixed up more ink, and my second and third attempts were much better.



My leaves are still not right, and my twigs are sloppy, but I can see an improvement. And by gum, my noodlings are starting to look like something other than finger painting. There may be hope for me, yet.

My next class is Friday.

Bike Psych

Last night I finally went and rode the big bike I've been pestering everyone about for the past two weeks. I thank those of you who contributed. You helped me raise $200. When I got to the ride, a woman greeted our team. She told us about where the money goes. She was one of the recipients. When she was 44 years old, she was hit with a massive stroke. She then had two more strokes, and doctors couldn't figure out why until they discovered two holes in her heart. She had a device installed in her heart that has fixed the problem up, and she is once again up and active. The surgery and the device were funded by projects like the one I participated in.

The money we raise saves lives and helps ensure a better quality of life for survivors of strokes and heart disease. So thank you again.

The giant bike was a funny thing. I felt a bit like Fred Flintstone, peddling away on my foot-powered car while a police car escorted us around a block through some pretty heavy traffic. The whole ride took about 30 minutes, and was pretty uneventful, really.

Afterwards, we had a free meal which made me laugh: pizza. I don't normally eat pizza. It doesn't fit into what I consider healthy eating. But I was hungry, and I ate it. It was pretty tasty, too, even if it was hardening my arteries a bit.

So that irony down, I got on my regular bike and started biking home.

And that's when I hit irony #2.

While sailing down the bike path at a good clip, a woman erupted from the bushes on her bike right in front of me. There was no time to stop. No time to do anything really except yell, "AAAAARRGH!!!"

As we collided at high speed, she said over and over again, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

I remember thinking, "This is gonna suck," and I smashed into her full force, T-bone style.

Bikes and arms and legs tangled and piled up everywhere on the pavement. Somehow, neither of us was hurt. I have a tiny scratch on one leg. My chain came off the derailleur, but a thoughtful observer fixed it up for me while I made sure I and the other woman were ok. It would have been so easy for either or both of us to have been chewed up by pedals, gears, and pavement. It would have been so easy for either of us to have broken teeth or bones. But no, we were just shaken up.

I'm glad the passers by were so friendly and concerned for our welfare. I'm hoping that other bicyclist will look both ways before bursting out onto a busy trail again.

Can't Say That Hurt My Feelings, Lady.

Every now and then, someone tries to insult me by referencing my size.

Usually, they roll their eyes and tell me to eat a sandwich. This does bother me a bit. For several years, I was underweight. It took me years to build up muscle so that I was no longer a rack of bones. I think it's just as offensive to tell a thin person to "eat a sammich" as it is to tell a fat one to "lay off the bonbons". It's one thing if you ask someone if they think you're too thin/fat. But it's entirely a different thing when it comes unasked, and I find it particularly rude when it comes from a stranger.

Last night was different. It wasn't just my size that disgruntled this woman: it was my level of fitness, as well. I was getting a t-shirt, and the woman behind the counter asked me what size. I told her a small, and she rolled her eyes. Then she said, in a tone one might use if you saw someone peeing on the floor, "And I see you biked here, so you can take your sized small shirt and bike home again," and she laughed in a way to her co-worker that I think was equivalent to her eye rolling.

I guess I chalk it up to jealousy. The only thing stopping her from getting in shape is her own bad attitude.

I can't say I'm the slightest bit ashamed of being someone who bikes everywhere. And neither am I ashamed of wearing small clothes. I have large t-shirts, too. Can't say I'm ashamed of those, either.

I am, however, ashamed of that woman's bad manners.