obsession

my recent obsession with trees is the product of a poetic appreciation for their pride, a craving for leaves and bark and roots after months of snow, and other peoples' suggestion. i suspect most obsessions start this way - as a vague intense personal attraction, combined with the pleased self-consciousness that comes with the first time another person recognizes it. from that point the obsession is deliberately developed, and probably broadens in focus to include more of the subject's aspects. in keeping with my own theory, a habit of doodling trees on christmas cards led to a poem about a group of young trees cruelly uprooted and thrown on a boat, which led to several comments about my fixation with trees, which led to a plan to learn to graft branches in the spring, which led to a story book, which led to a visit to the conservatory which may have permanently altered my psyche, which led to another, more-influential comment by my boyfriend, which led to a plan to plant a tree of my own and get a job at a greenhouse, which led to roselow seeds in a pot, which led to a plan to get a tree tattoo, which led to an interview this week at a greenhouse.