Sometimes I paint things just because they are beautiful. Other times, I paint things because they have deep meaning. Red blood cells, or erythrocytes, are one of those wonderful things that deliver both.
Let’s start with the aesthetic appeal: these are some good-looking cells. Round, plump, and juicy, with that sweet little dimple in the middle, they resemble appealing objects like velvet throw pillows and donut peaches.
Then there’s the color – that deep, saturated, hemoglobin red. There’s a saying about painting: “If you can’t paint well, paint big. And if you can’t paint big, paint red.” It’s hard to paint big in watercolor, so red it is.
Of course, red blood cells have more going for them than good looks. For one, they are keeping you alive, which is kind of major. Red blood cells deliver a steady supply of oxygen to your body’s tissues, and you’re making them right now. The bone marrow of a human adult produces approximately 2.4 million new erythrocytes per second, which is a great statistic to trot out when you are accused of idleness.
Besides being stars in both beauty and utility, red blood cells are richly layered with metaphorical and cultural significance. Blood rituals have been deeply important in many cultures throughout history, signifying maturity, sacrifice, or the symbolic joining of families or individuals.
And then there is the poetry. Poets love blood. In The force that through the green fuse drives the flower, Dylan Thomas invokes blood as a symbol of life force, inevitably succumbing to the ravages of time:
The force that drives the water through the rocks Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams Turns mine to wax.
Whenever I paint either blood cells or vessels, I think of these stanzas from John Crowe Ransom’s Winter Remembered, in which the narrator is missing his beloved through the bitter cold months.
Better to walk forth in the frozen air And wash my wound in the snows; that would be healing; Because my heart would throb less painful there, Being caked with cold, and past the smart of feeling. And where I walked, the murderous winter blast Would have this body bowed, these eyeballs streaming, And though I think this heart’s blood froze not fast It ran too small to spare one drop for dreaming.
Damn. Read those last two lines again. They get me every time.
[Science Note: Your blood can’t really “freeze fast” like a popsicle while you’re still alive, but the “run too small” part is sort of medically correct: extremely low temperatures make your blood vessels constrict, which can lead to frostbite.]
So you can see why I’ve been painting blood for years. I mostly stick to red blood cells in watercolor, but sometimes I dabble in white cells, neutrophils, arteries and veins. I painted red blood cells with malaria for the cover of a novel, and even designed a scarf adorned with erythrocytes. I’ve generally depicted healthy cells, but in 2020, when everything was bleak, I visited the darker side of blood imagery, painting clotted lungs and hemorrhaging brains.
Fortunately, I made it through that, and now I’m back to painting blood cells that are plump, round, and oh-so-red. You can find a few here to splatter on your walls.
If you’re in the DC area, you can find me at these upcoming events:
April 6-7: Art Blooms at Mosaic Fairfax, VA
April 21: Langston Alliance Earth Day Festival, Arlington, VA
My Algorithm installation is on view in Room 5108 at Artomatic in Washington, DC through April 28. Please consult the Artomatic website for opening hours and more information. I plan to be there for the Meet the Artists event on April 13.
I’ll probably be in Baltimore at the end of May; stay tuned.
Michele, this is bloody wonderfully imagined and written! Hope you get increased followers and buyers :-)