I want to tell stories. Of my life and the lives of others. I just want to share them with anyone willing to listen. I want to write it all. But sometimes I don’t and I just want to leave all my possessions and responsiblities behind. Travel with nothing other than what I can carry. I’d like to live a life of zen and nothing else. But then sudden materialistic wishes for beautiful possessions comes over me. I like lovely sparkly things but I want adventures more. Excitement. Sometimes I pretend. My imagination can go wild. I like to think I’m Julia Child in the kitchen throwing spices and ingredients in the air, creating masterpieces with my hands. I can grab a paint brush. A pencil. Oils. Or a spatula. Doesn’t matter because I can create art. I also exhibit perfectionistic tendencies. My results are accurate and I’m always finding the most effective methods for all that I do. I excel in all that I do, except matters of the heart. I feel too much, too much of the time. But that is all balanced when you put some dancing shoes on me and I am transported to a place where all I can feel is the music and all I can hear is my partners steps and heartbeat. I am wished away to a place of passion. As an advocate for those who are oppressed in any number of ways, I am angry. I am furious. And passionate. I determined to make a difference. In my own way.  I am a superhero ready to help in any way I can but in the arms of my father and memory of my mother, I am allowed to feel vulnerable, in need of a hug. I am a sturdy friend, always there to be leaned on. I care with all my heart and I love hard. Real hard. I can be a lustful creature. I have an abundance of affection and care to give and readily available to receive. It may not make sense but this is me. 

Who are you?