Romance feminine, masculine or both?

I found this online and I believe some to be quite untrue:

Although it's not so much a definition, as it is no more precise than the word "romance" itself, one way to describe romance succinctly is "what women want out of a relationship." In other words, men aren't romantic, and if you're a man, that's why you need this guide. If you're a woman, of course, you were born with an innate knowledge of this stuff and need not read further.

This is someone's view from a website that is trying to teach men how to be romantic...it went on to tell them the rules of being romantic and all the dos and dont's. It was the usual advice. "Get them cute stuff such as teddy bairs and frilly things." It seems that being romantic in this time and age is just as superficial as Chirstmas. What is with this? Romance is a natural thing for women, and men have to learn it? I dont think that at all. If you're romantic you're a romantic girl or guy and not every women is romantic. It seems as time has gone on romance is viewed as fully feminine thing. In the past it seemed to be more of a even ballance between men and women. I've heard in the midevil ages the men where very excited about romance and being romantic just as women where and no one was judging them for it. Nowadays it must be hard to be a romantic male and not get hell from all of your male friends. What do you all think? Do you think romance is just for girls and guys are just trying to learn it to put us under there spell? I know someone who thinks that romance is just munipulation. I think it's living life with an imagination and making the ordinary just a little more beautiful with one's mind.

Tell me what you think!!

rose

A french women married a dead man

France has a reputation of having the most romantic city in the world Paris. It seems they even keep laws that honor the ties of love after death.

A friend told me about this and I found this article I wanted to share...

"A French woman whose fiance asked her to marry him two days before he was killed in a car crash has been granted a posthumous white wedding in their village.

Magali Jaskiewicz, who has been grieving for her partner since his death a year ago, became his legal widow in a ceremony held with family and friends.

The 26-year-old, who had lived with Jonathan George for six years and had two children with him, stood beside a portrait of her late partner as the marriage rites were read in Dommary-Baroncourt in the east of France.

Under French law posthumous marriages are possible as long as evidence exists that the deceased person had the intention while alive of wedding their partner. According to Christophe Caput, the mayor who married Jaskiewicz, her request was "rock solid".

The couple had come to the town hall on 25 November last year asking to be married in January, he said. But two days later the 25-year-old groom-to-be was killed in a road accident.

"The bride had even bought her wedding dress," added Caput.

Wearing that same dress, Jaskiewicz married the father of her two daughters on Saturday. "I'm not really in the mood to celebrate," she told journalists. "We're going to drink a cup of coffee and I will thank those who have supported me."

Caput, visibly moved by the ceremony, said that the young bride had "become a widow at her wedding". Jaskiewicz, who will now take the name of her late husband, wears his ring around her neck.

Government figures show that posthumous weddings, although unusual, are not as rare as might be expected. Dozens are said to take place in France each year."

rose

A romantic song for a rainy day

George Harrison seemed to be a romantic man to me and this song surely is and with quit a cute video. It seems like the Beatles unlike lots of other bands liked to show to the public how in love they where with there sweet hearts.

enjoy!



love.
Rose

Suzi Quatro

A rocking love song.

Unknown

I found this on my computer and I have no idea who wrote it but I really do enjoy it. Maybe one day someone will let me know who wrote it into my doctuments.



Slicing glass as strangers pass the same lines cutting dimes.
Wanna have a picinic? I’m feeling panicky…
You can bring your cloth and I can bring my china.

Do you think you would let me die your lips the color of mine?
We could rub flesh till our death a simple attempt at staying together.
Would you rather have my corps covers with lilies, gardenias, or honey suckle?

Would you buckle for a whore who hasn’t been lead before?
This one girl always called her self a virgin prostitute
She found herself destitute….

No really can I hold your hand and save you in my mind as my man.
Rings of full springs and draining falls, am I always your baby doll?

We toil away on a lovely day only seeing the world through the holes in our granny’s lace doilies.

To romance

You soft blade of joy how I love the way you carve my heart into a ever opening flower.

How I love the way you paint color into a world of grey.

You are the rope that keeps pulling me further down the path of life.

You are the soft vale that sooths the very heart ach you create.

You are what makes life seem like a dream.

You are my ambition, my advencher, my teacher, my lesion to be learned over and over again.

I look for you in others and find you always in myself.

The sentamentality of romantics

A few years ago I went to my favorite art show I have ever been to, the artist was Dario Robleto. His art has to do with making new things out of old artifacts. He would take old love letters from the civil war or his third grade class and grind them into a powder and fill old aspirin pills with the powder and place them into a 1920s or 30s jar. He also took old voice recordings and stretched them into thirds that looked like hair and braided them into a long braid. He also used powdered herbs, bones and so much more to make potions and boots and dresses and all kinds of things. His show definitely had the atmosphere of a romantic. Most romantics seem to have a strong sense of sentimentality and attachment to old objects. Taking old objects and re-emphasizing the emotions of it in a new form that more easily touches our hearts is a powerful message to experience.

A month later in the middle of my reading of Casanovas memoirs I came across a passage that reminded me of Dario Robletos show. In Casanovas passage he has a very strong attatchment to the object he has obtained to make things to remember his beloved by. Casanovas memoirs have a rich abundance of romantic writings and I am very sure I will be using a bunch of them in this blog seeing as he is my favorite romantic I have come across. I hope you enjoy the intensity of his feelings.
"Rich in the possession of her hair, I consulted the spirit of my love to decide what to do with it. To make up for the fault she had committed by depriving me of the snippets I had picked up, she had given me hair enough to make a braid. It was an ell and a half long. After conceiving my plan, I went to the shop of a Jewish confectioner whose daughter did embroidery. I instructed her to embroider the four initial letters of our names in hair on a green satin armband, and I used all the rest to make a long braid in the form of a very thin cord. At on end there was a black ribbon and as the ribbon at the other end was sewn on a doubled upon itself, it made a loop which was a real running noose, admirably suited to strangle me if love reduced me to despair. I put this cord on my neck next to the skin, winding it four times around. From a small quantity of the same hair I made a sort of powder by cutting it into very small bits with fine scissors. I had the Jew make a paste of it in my presence with sugar combined with essences of ambergris, angelica, vanilla, alkermes, and styrax. I did not leave until he had my sweetmeats, composed of these ingredients, ready to deliver to me. I had others made of the same shape and materials except that they contained no hair. I put the ones with hair in a beautiful rock crystal box and the others in a box of light tortoise shell."-Casanova the history of my life

love,

rose