Writers and their wild enthusiasms

This is how I think it should be.
We rove (or drift) through life examining things of interest, finding them in books or movies or by direct contact. An acorn, a jet plane engine, bruschetta, a grand jete, a lemon meringue pie recipe, a chimpanzee in the wild, Leonardo’s machines, wolves, space travel, magic, herbal plants, gardening, fighting techniques, claustrophobia (for instance) and we let ourselves experience these things. Give ourselves over to the crush of having discovered something new or of solving a question that nags. Once the full experience has permeated our brains we go onto the next thing of wonder, whatever that is. I have a whole list of things (most of them are above) and then there are other ‘things’ that I don’t know will interest me yet, or ‘things’ I’ve explored enough to know I absolutely do not like them.
And then somehow, for me, this always leads to a story. Not always in the way that I imagine it, or with as much importance as I might predict, but there as a kernel.
The Curious Misadventures of Feltus Ovalton included in varying degrees my love of knitting, my dislike of fat pugs, my staunch belief that tofu should not be forced on children, my fear of falling into enclosed spaces and getting stuck, the obtuseness of some parents, secret friendships, bullies, and chocolate cake.
I think as long as I am able to get so excited about something that I could burst (like with my ongoing fascination with natural science and cooking) or intrigued in an obsessed or perturbed way, I’ll always have more ideas than I can handle.
What personal dislikes or likes, experiences or desires make their way into your writing?
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