"Wild thang, I think I love you..." runs through my head. I've known a lot of wild children, and I've been one myself. I seem to have lost my wildness though I hung on to it tightly, doing a "Dead Tour" at age 51; I discovered I could still be a wild child. Funny, what negative feelings I experience when I think of myself in that role of wild child, living on the road, doing immense amounts of pyschedelics and truly enjoying myself. I think, instead I should be celebrating my opportunity to have had those intense experiences, to truly live wild and free. No one was injured in the filming of the movie though many were changed. 1997 that was....the year my father and my favorite cat ever both died. I came back home in about 3 weeks.
2003 found me on the road to Montana, alone, having met an interesting fellow Rainbow family member. I bit of wildness came out again. Another wild child adventure, grist for the mill for sure. I was in Hot Springs, MT for about a month or so, very interesting little (and I mean little) town. Near a Native American reservation with awesome hot springs. Good for what ails you.
I came home. Anah was born and because I wanted to be a different sort of role model, I haven't been a wild child very much since then. But I suppose she's in there, still, waiting for Spring, when wild things come alive.