Blood is a mystical liquid, with properties unique to it alone, as well as my favorite of the greater humors to play with. Whether my own, or someone else’s, it is interesting not only for its physical characteristics, but for its relative rarity. Although every person is full of it, it is seldom seen because it is only visible when skin rends due to injury and because injury also brings pain, few people like to see their own blood. Blood has always had many symbolic meanings, from death and strength, from love and virginity, self-sacrifice and hate.
Visually, blood is distinct. Fresh blood has a deep red color, ranging from the bright red of a chest wound, to the rich dark red of blood fresh from liver. Blood also has an odd effect in the light of seeming to both absorb light and reflect light, which creates interesting patterns in the right lighting.
As blood dries, it dulls from a beautiful red to an unsightly brown. Blood is also renowned for its ability to stain, much to the chagrin of the mothers of skinned-kneed children everywhere. Carpet, cloth, paper, skin; nothing is safe from a bloodstain. Due to blood’s already macabre reputation, the ability to use its staining powers as ink are frowned upon by most of society. That doesn’t mean that I haven’t tried it.
Blood isn’t known for the sound it makes, but some sounds have become synonymous with a great deal of blood loss. The gargling sound of a throat being cut, in tandem with blood spraying from the jugular, are not sounds that those who hear it forget.
To touch blood, it feels slick and is much thicker than water. Touching blood causes skin stains that are difficult to remove, as anyone who has tried to stem the flow of blood from one’s own nose knows. As blood dries, it becomes crusty due to water evaporation, leaving solids such as salts, metals, and organic materials.
While I have a friend who swears by it, I can’t say I like the taste of blood. It tastes vaguely of tears and iron, which are ironic in the sense that in the wars of the past, iron shed blood and tears flew in result. Why might I have tasted blood, you may ask? Well, the mouth is often used to help staunch a small wound.
Blood does not have a strong smell, but in a room where blood has been recently spilled, the nauseating smell of decaying blood is referred to as literally “stinking of death.”
Blood is a remarkable substance, not only for the many physiological reasons and physical properties, but for its many symbolic meanings. I’m glad that such a material is readily available, if one can stand the pain, and the fact that it is so easily replenished. Plus, just look at the expressions of those near you when you walk into a room with bloodstains on your lips.