No one loves like a Leo. This season, let your feline flame burn eternal

Who — or what — is like a Leo? The fifth sign, presiding over the astrological house ruling joy, passion and all things lovable, is never not a welcome presence to those with taste. As different as each Leo is (and as they insist they are, never appreciating comparisons with another and always requiring a pampering of their endearing delusion-truth that they are unequivocally one-of-one), they all bring a flame. As an astrologer, it’s most ethical to view the zodiacal constellations with a lovingly dispassionate eye. But as my Uranian dominance lends itself to rule-breaking, I must confess that Leo is the sign that melts me. Who else could inject an icy, dormant heart with the warmth of a thousand suns with one laugh, one embrace, one absolutely ridiculous and yet perfectly executed dance?

I can’t help but think of an analogy in the Snow Peak Takibi Solo Portable Fireplace. What could be more leonine than a personal inferno? The portable fireplace (also known as your sweetest Leo) is theoretically always ready for any adventure — it might be a forbidden beach fire in Malibu that may or may not get the fire department called on you by quasi-well-meaning cliffside residents with way too much disposable income, and thus time to be nemeses of fun. Perhaps it’s an unexpected cannonball at a rooftop hotel pool party that beckons the bouncer to remind your precious Leo performer to conduct themselves with a bit more decorum (what’s that?). Maybe it’s a 4 a.m. love confession that almost feels angry, that’s pained with the agonizing passion that only an expansive lion heart could ever conjure. For no one loves like a Leo, that burning, beating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives just as much and just as generously to others as they do to themselves.

In that vein (or flame), who better than a Leo to teach the rest of us the sacred art of loving ourselves, of being so unabashedly oneself that people, places, situations and energies just can’t help but bend like flowers toward a welcoming, nourishing midday sunray? The Takibi fireplace is silver, reflective — an homage to the infectious way a Leo’s self-love mirrors all the empty spaces in everyone around them that could use some compassion. And, as what is above is also below, we must acknowledge the plight of a wounded Leo, of the darkly misanthropic nihilism that can, and often does, shroud their heart in a titanium veil of protection. A Leo scorned is as dangerous as a forest fire in the night, furious at rejection by the very world they bleed out for. How exhausting it must be to bear that burden of joy, to be compelled to entertain through the tears. Indeed, when the time comes, the Takibi fireplace’s contents are extinguished and the stainless-steel apparatus is packed up until the next flame calls.

And so, this is a love letter dedicated to our cherished Leos — we thank you for your service. May your feline flame burn eternal, for the world would be so dark and so cold without you.

Goth Shakira is a digital conjurer based in Los Angeles.

Who — or what — is like a Leo? The fifth sign, presiding over the astrological house ruling joy, passion and all things lovable, is never not a welcome presence to those with taste. As different as each Leo is (and as they insist they are, never appreciating comparisons with another and always requiring a pampering of their endearing delusion-truth that they are unequivocally one-of-one), they all bring a flame. As an astrologer, it’s most ethical to view the zodiacal constellations with a lovingly dispassionate eye. But as my Uranian dominance lends itself to rule-breaking, I must confess that Leo is the sign that melts me. Who else could inject an icy, dormant heart with the warmth of a thousand suns with one laugh, one embrace, one absolutely ridiculous and yet perfectly executed dance?

I can’t help but think of an analogy in the Snow Peak Takibi Solo Portable Fireplace. What could be more leonine than a personal inferno? The portable fireplace (also known as your sweetest Leo) is theoretically always ready for any adventure — it might be a forbidden beach fire in Malibu that may or may not get the fire department called on you by quasi-well-meaning cliffside residents with way too much disposable income, and thus time to be nemeses of fun. Perhaps it’s an unexpected cannonball at a rooftop hotel pool party that beckons the bouncer to remind your precious Leo performer to conduct themselves with a bit more decorum (what’s that?). Maybe it’s a 4 a.m. love confession that almost feels angry, that’s pained with the agonizing passion that only an expansive lion heart could ever conjure. For no one loves like a Leo, that burning, beating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives just as much and just as generously to others as they do to themselves.

In that vein (or flame), who better than a Leo to teach the rest of us the sacred art of loving ourselves, of being so unabashedly oneself that people, places, situations and energies just can’t help but bend like flowers toward a welcoming, nourishing midday sunray? The Takibi fireplace is silver, reflective — an homage to the infectious way a Leo’s self-love mirrors all the empty spaces in everyone around them that could use some compassion. And, as what is above is also below, we must acknowledge the plight of a wounded Leo, of the darkly misanthropic nihilism that can, and often does, shroud their heart in a titanium veil of protection. A Leo scorned is as dangerous as a forest fire in the night, furious at rejection by the very world they bleed out for. How exhausting it must be to bear that burden of joy, to be compelled to entertain through the tears. Indeed, when the time comes, the Takibi fireplace’s contents are extinguished and the stainless-steel apparatus is packed up until the next flame calls.

And so, this is a love letter dedicated to our cherished Leos — we thank you for your service. May your feline flame burn eternal, for the world would be so dark and so cold without you.

Goth Shakira is a digital conjurer based in Los Angeles.

Who — or what — is like a Leo? The fifth sign, presiding over the astrological house ruling joy, passion and all things lovable, is never not a welcome presence to those with taste. As different as each Leo is (and as they insist they are, never appreciating comparisons with another and always requiring a pampering of their endearing delusion-truth that they are unequivocally one-of-one), they all bring a flame. As an astrologer, it’s most ethical to view the zodiacal constellations with a lovingly dispassionate eye. But as my Uranian dominance lends itself to rule-breaking, I must confess that Leo is the sign that melts me. Who else could inject an icy, dormant heart with the warmth of a thousand suns with one laugh, one embrace, one absolutely ridiculous and yet perfectly executed dance?

I can’t help but think of an analogy in the Snow Peak Takibi Solo Portable Fireplace. What could be more leonine than a personal inferno? The portable fireplace (also known as your sweetest Leo) is theoretically always ready for any adventure — it might be a forbidden beach fire in Malibu that may or may not get the fire department called on you by quasi-well-meaning cliffside residents with way too much disposable income, and thus time to be nemeses of fun. Perhaps it’s an unexpected cannonball at a rooftop hotel pool party that beckons the bouncer to remind your precious Leo performer to conduct themselves with a bit more decorum (what’s that?). Maybe it’s a 4 a.m. love confession that almost feels angry, that’s pained with the agonizing passion that only an expansive lion heart could ever conjure. For no one loves like a Leo, that burning, beating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives just as much and just as generously to others as they do to themselves.

In that vein (or flame), who better than a Leo to teach the rest of us the sacred art of loving ourselves, of being so unabashedly oneself that people, places, situations and energies just can’t help but bend like flowers toward a welcoming, nourishing midday sunray? The Takibi fireplace is silver, reflective — an homage to the infectious way a Leo’s self-love mirrors all the empty spaces in everyone around them that could use some compassion. And, as what is above is also below, we must acknowledge the plight of a wounded Leo, of the darkly misanthropic nihilism that can, and often does, shroud their heart in a titanium veil of protection. A Leo scorned is as dangerous as a forest fire in the night, furious at rejection by the very world they bleed out for. How exhausting it must be to bear that burden of joy, to be compelled to entertain through the tears. Indeed, when the time comes, the Takibi fireplace’s contents are extinguished and the stainless-steel apparatus is packed up until the next flame calls.

And so, this is a love letter dedicated to our cherished Leos — we thank you for your service. May your feline flame burn eternal, for the world would be so dark and so cold without you.

Goth Shakira is a digital conjurer based in Los Angeles.

Who — or what — is like a Leo? The fifth sign, presiding over the astrological house ruling joy, passion and all things lovable, is never not a welcome presence to those with taste. As different as each Leo is (and as they insist they are, never appreciating comparisons with another and always requiring a pampering of their endearing delusion-truth that they are unequivocally one-of-one), they all bring a flame. As an astrologer, it’s most ethical to view the zodiacal constellations with a lovingly dispassionate eye. But as my Uranian dominance lends itself to rule-breaking, I must confess that Leo is the sign that melts me. Who else could inject an icy, dormant heart with the warmth of a thousand suns with one laugh, one embrace, one absolutely ridiculous and yet perfectly executed dance?

I can’t help but think of an analogy in the Snow Peak Takibi Solo Portable Fireplace. What could be more leonine than a personal inferno? The portable fireplace (also known as your sweetest Leo) is theoretically always ready for any adventure — it might be a forbidden beach fire in Malibu that may or may not get the fire department called on you by quasi-well-meaning cliffside residents with way too much disposable income, and thus time to be nemeses of fun. Perhaps it’s an unexpected cannonball at a rooftop hotel pool party that beckons the bouncer to remind your precious Leo performer to conduct themselves with a bit more decorum (what’s that?). Maybe it’s a 4 a.m. love confession that almost feels angry, that’s pained with the agonizing passion that only an expansive lion heart could ever conjure. For no one loves like a Leo, that burning, beating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives just as much and just as generously to others as they do to themselves.

In that vein (or flame), who better than a Leo to teach the rest of us the sacred art of loving ourselves, of being so unabashedly oneself that people, places, situations and energies just can’t help but bend like flowers toward a welcoming, nourishing midday sunray? The Takibi fireplace is silver, reflective — an homage to the infectious way a Leo’s self-love mirrors all the empty spaces in everyone around them that could use some compassion. And, as what is above is also below, we must acknowledge the plight of a wounded Leo, of the darkly misanthropic nihilism that can, and often does, shroud their heart in a titanium veil of protection. A Leo scorned is as dangerous as a forest fire in the night, furious at rejection by the very world they bleed out for. How exhausting it must be to bear that burden of joy, to be compelled to entertain through the tears. Indeed, when the time comes, the Takibi fireplace’s contents are extinguished and the stainless-steel apparatus is packed up until the next flame calls.

And so, this is a love letter dedicated to our cherished Leos — we thank you for your service. May your feline flame burn eternal, for the world would be so dark and so cold without you.

Goth Shakira is a digital conjurer based in Los Angeles.

Who — or what — is like a Leo? The fifth sign, presiding over the astrological house ruling joy, passion and all things lovable, is never not a welcome presence to those with taste. As different as each Leo is (and as they insist they are, never appreciating comparisons with another and always requiring a pampering of their endearing delusion-truth that they are unequivocally one-of-one), they all bring a flame. As an astrologer, it’s most ethical to view the zodiacal constellations with a lovingly dispassionate eye. But as my Uranian dominance lends itself to rule-breaking, I must confess that Leo is the sign that melts me. Who else could inject an icy, dormant heart with the warmth of a thousand suns with one laugh, one embrace, one absolutely ridiculous and yet perfectly executed dance?

I can’t help but think of an analogy in the Snow Peak Takibi Solo Portable Fireplace. What could be more leonine than a personal inferno? The portable fireplace (also known as your sweetest Leo) is theoretically always ready for any adventure — it might be a forbidden beach fire in Malibu that may or may not get the fire department called on you by quasi-well-meaning cliffside residents with way too much disposable income, and thus time to be nemeses of fun. Perhaps it’s an unexpected cannonball at a rooftop hotel pool party that beckons the bouncer to remind your precious Leo performer to conduct themselves with a bit more decorum (what’s that?). Maybe it’s a 4 a.m. love confession that almost feels angry, that’s pained with the agonizing passion that only an expansive lion heart could ever conjure. For no one loves like a Leo, that burning, beating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives just as much and just as generously to others as they do to themselves.

In that vein (or flame), who better than a Leo to teach the rest of us the sacred art of loving ourselves, of being so unabashedly oneself that people, places, situations and energies just can’t help but bend like flowers toward a welcoming, nourishing midday sunray? The Takibi fireplace is silver, reflective — an homage to the infectious way a Leo’s self-love mirrors all the empty spaces in everyone around them that could use some compassion. And, as what is above is also below, we must acknowledge the plight of a wounded Leo, of the darkly misanthropic nihilism that can, and often does, shroud their heart in a titanium veil of protection. A Leo scorned is as dangerous as a forest fire in the night, furious at rejection by the very world they bleed out for. How exhausting it must be to bear that burden of joy, to be compelled to entertain through the tears. Indeed, when the time comes, the Takibi fireplace’s contents are extinguished and the stainless-steel apparatus is packed up until the next flame calls.

And so, this is a love letter dedicated to our cherished Leos — we thank you for your service. May your feline flame burn eternal, for the world would be so dark and so cold without you.

Goth Shakira is a digital conjurer based in Los Angeles.

Who — or what — is like a Leo? The fifth sign, presiding over the astrological house ruling joy, passion and all things lovable, is never not a welcome presence to those with taste. As different as each Leo is (and as they insist they are, never appreciating comparisons with another and always requiring a pampering of their endearing delusion-truth that they are unequivocally one-of-one), they all bring a flame. As an astrologer, it’s most ethical to view the zodiacal constellations with a lovingly dispassionate eye. But as my Uranian dominance lends itself to rule-breaking, I must confess that Leo is the sign that melts me. Who else could inject an icy, dormant heart with the warmth of a thousand suns with one laugh, one embrace, one absolutely ridiculous and yet perfectly executed dance?

I can’t help but think of an analogy in the Snow Peak Takibi Solo Portable Fireplace. What could be more leonine than a personal inferno? The portable fireplace (also known as your sweetest Leo) is theoretically always ready for any adventure — it might be a forbidden beach fire in Malibu that may or may not get the fire department called on you by quasi-well-meaning cliffside residents with way too much disposable income, and thus time to be nemeses of fun. Perhaps it’s an unexpected cannonball at a rooftop hotel pool party that beckons the bouncer to remind your precious Leo performer to conduct themselves with a bit more decorum (what’s that?). Maybe it’s a 4 a.m. love confession that almost feels angry, that’s pained with the agonizing passion that only an expansive lion heart could ever conjure. For no one loves like a Leo, that burning, beating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives just as much and just as generously to others as they do to themselves.

In that vein (or flame), who better than a Leo to teach the rest of us the sacred art of loving ourselves, of being so unabashedly oneself that people, places, situations and energies just can’t help but bend like flowers toward a welcoming, nourishing midday sunray? The Takibi fireplace is silver, reflective — an homage to the infectious way a Leo’s self-love mirrors all the empty spaces in everyone around them that could use some compassion. And, as what is above is also below, we must acknowledge the plight of a wounded Leo, of the darkly misanthropic nihilism that can, and often does, shroud their heart in a titanium veil of protection. A Leo scorned is as dangerous as a forest fire in the night, furious at rejection by the very world they bleed out for. How exhausting it must be to bear that burden of joy, to be compelled to entertain through the tears. Indeed, when the time comes, the Takibi fireplace’s contents are extinguished and the stainless-steel apparatus is packed up until the next flame calls.

And so, this is a love letter dedicated to our cherished Leos — we thank you for your service. May your feline flame burn eternal, for the world would be so dark and so cold without you.

Goth Shakira is a digital conjurer based in Los Angeles.

Who — or what — is like a Leo? The fifth sign, presiding over the astrological house ruling joy, passion and all things lovable, is never not a welcome presence to those with taste. As different as each Leo is (and as they insist they are, never appreciating comparisons with another and always requiring a pampering of their endearing delusion-truth that they are unequivocally one-of-one), they all bring a flame. As an astrologer, it’s most ethical to view the zodiacal constellations with a lovingly dispassionate eye. But as my Uranian dominance lends itself to rule-breaking, I must confess that Leo is the sign that melts me. Who else could inject an icy, dormant heart with the warmth of a thousand suns with one laugh, one embrace, one absolutely ridiculous and yet perfectly executed dance?

I can’t help but think of an analogy in the Snow Peak Takibi Solo Portable Fireplace. What could be more leonine than a personal inferno? The portable fireplace (also known as your sweetest Leo) is theoretically always ready for any adventure — it might be a forbidden beach fire in Malibu that may or may not get the fire department called on you by quasi-well-meaning cliffside residents with way too much disposable income, and thus time to be nemeses of fun. Perhaps it’s an unexpected cannonball at a rooftop hotel pool party that beckons the bouncer to remind your precious Leo performer to conduct themselves with a bit more decorum (what’s that?). Maybe it’s a 4 a.m. love confession that almost feels angry, that’s pained with the agonizing passion that only an expansive lion heart could ever conjure. For no one loves like a Leo, that burning, beating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives just as much and just as generously to others as they do to themselves.

In that vein (or flame), who better than a Leo to teach the rest of us the sacred art of loving ourselves, of being so unabashedly oneself that people, places, situations and energies just can’t help but bend like flowers toward a welcoming, nourishing midday sunray? The Takibi fireplace is silver, reflective — an homage to the infectious way a Leo’s self-love mirrors all the empty spaces in everyone around them that could use some compassion. And, as what is above is also below, we must acknowledge the plight of a wounded Leo, of the darkly misanthropic nihilism that can, and often does, shroud their heart in a titanium veil of protection. A Leo scorned is as dangerous as a forest fire in the night, furious at rejection by the very world they bleed out for. How exhausting it must be to bear that burden of joy, to be compelled to entertain through the tears. Indeed, when the time comes, the Takibi fireplace’s contents are extinguished and the stainless-steel apparatus is packed up until the next flame calls.

And so, this is a love letter dedicated to our cherished Leos — we thank you for your service. May your feline flame burn eternal, for the world would be so dark and so cold without you.

Goth Shakira is a digital conjurer based in Los Angeles.

Who — or what — is like a Leo? The fifth sign, presiding over the astrological house ruling joy, passion and all things lovable, is never not a welcome presence to those with taste. As different as each Leo is (and as they insist they are, never appreciating comparisons with another and always requiring a pampering of their endearing delusion-truth that they are unequivocally one-of-one), they all bring a flame. As an astrologer, it’s most ethical to view the zodiacal constellations with a lovingly dispassionate eye. But as my Uranian dominance lends itself to rule-breaking, I must confess that Leo is the sign that melts me. Who else could inject an icy, dormant heart with the warmth of a thousand suns with one laugh, one embrace, one absolutely ridiculous and yet perfectly executed dance?

I can’t help but think of an analogy in the Snow Peak Takibi Solo Portable Fireplace. What could be more leonine than a personal inferno? The portable fireplace (also known as your sweetest Leo) is theoretically always ready for any adventure — it might be a forbidden beach fire in Malibu that may or may not get the fire department called on you by quasi-well-meaning cliffside residents with way too much disposable income, and thus time to be nemeses of fun. Perhaps it’s an unexpected cannonball at a rooftop hotel pool party that beckons the bouncer to remind your precious Leo performer to conduct themselves with a bit more decorum (what’s that?). Maybe it’s a 4 a.m. love confession that almost feels angry, that’s pained with the agonizing passion that only an expansive lion heart could ever conjure. For no one loves like a Leo, that burning, beating organ that, when aligned and evolved, gives just as much and just as generously to others as they do to themselves.

In that vein (or flame), who better than a Leo to teach the rest of us the sacred art of loving ourselves, of being so unabashedly oneself that people, places, situations and energies just can’t help but bend like flowers toward a welcoming, nourishing midday sunray? The Takibi fireplace is silver, reflective — an homage to the infectious way a Leo’s self-love mirrors all the empty spaces in everyone around them that could use some compassion. And, as what is above is also below, we must acknowledge the plight of a wounded Leo, of the darkly misanthropic nihilism that can, and often does, shroud their heart in a titanium veil of protection. A Leo scorned is as dangerous as a forest fire in the night, furious at rejection by the very world they bleed out for. How exhausting it must be to bear that burden of joy, to be compelled to entertain through the tears. Indeed, when the time comes, the Takibi fireplace’s contents are extinguished and the stainless-steel apparatus is packed up until the next flame calls.

And so, this is a love letter dedicated to our cherished Leos — we thank you for your service. May your feline flame burn eternal, for the world would be so dark and so cold without you.

Goth Shakira is a digital conjurer based in Los Angeles.