I. Another day of playing catch up in Full Bush and today we’re talking about obsessions. I *love* having obsessions. I love the way shared obsessions cement friendships & love affairs. If I love you, I want us to share at least one or two obsessions. More is gravy, but I gotta have the fries. Renee and I share Stevie Nicks, our familiars (Sybil and Lola were meant to be best friends), Yellowstone, and self-inquiry. Kimi and I share art journaling & mixed media art, witchery, Viking music (and – ahem – actual vikings), bonfires, fooooooooooood, and freedom. Dani and I share a love for shenanigans, foooooooooood, cottage weekends, laughter (the kind that makes tears run down your legs), flowy dresses, and lovers that make us week in the knees while respecting our personal sovereignty. Sarah and I are obsessed with art witchery. I have a group of artist friends who are all equally obsessed with the act of creation. I have a group of colleagues who are all equally obsessed with creating spaces within which creativity can bloom. Our obsessions are like glue, and because we share these obsessions we get exposed to the obsessions we don’t share – yet – and we get to develop new obsessions. Renee introduced me to Yellowstone. OBSESSED. Kimi introduced me to Amsterdam. 42 introduced me to Amigo The Devil and while I am still *really fucking mad at 42* that shared obsession (among others – perfect Ceasars, slow side sex, the healing power of the gaze of a man who is absolutely besotted with you) will be with me for the rest of my days.

II. I’m not going to lie. It still hurts a little to type “42”.

III. But I’m not obsessed with him anymore. Progress. 

IV. These days I’m obsessed with luring Leonard out of hiding after this long, long winter in isolation. I am obsessed with rereading the entire Earth’s Children series (though that last book is a *stinker* – ugh – what was she thinking?). I’m obsessed with metallic watercolours on black gesso. Luna moths. Lip up girls. The way Sybil holds my hand while I’m napping. Napping and the way napmares are awful but also prophetic and revealing. Slow food. Faux leather tights. The Rose of Sharon just outside my door. The proximity of my place to an *actual river*. The way the geese fly overhead every morning and evening. My future. 

V. I know that one could easily swap out the word “Obsessions” and swap in “Passions” but there’s something a little dangerous about the word “Obsessions” that reminds me that it is my life’s work to be as wild as I possibly can be within the boundaries of safety, sanity, integrity, and consensuality. I love being obsessed. I love following my obsessions down whatever rabbit holes they lead me down. I love fully and shamelessly embracing them and sharing them and talking about them.

VI. I am the kind of teacher I am because I am OBSESSED.

VII. I used to think I wanted to be super zen, but I have realized over the last couple of years that I want to be on fire at all times. I want to be lusting. I want to be pursuing. I want to be a little bit maniacally in love with the world. I want to be thriving. I want to have a glint in my eyes that says “This one is trouble.”

VIII. She’s mad but she’s magic. There’s no lie in her fire. – Charles Bukowski.

IX. Just writing this turned me on. Spring fever. Woooosah! Where’s that Viking I ordered up?

X. I may not be ready for love, but I think I might be DTF. *Lights the candles. Scatters the rose petals. Burns Nag Champa. Pours the wine.*

I’m planning to blog every day this month along with a crew of almost 300 other bloggers in my “Artfully Wild Blog Along“. If you’d like to join us, you are most welcome! Both bloggers and readers are invited to join in the fun! The only requirement is that you agree to comment on three blog posts for every blog post you share in our Facebook Group.

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