Month: March 2018 (page 1 of 6)

Once in A…

Aries 10° (March 30)

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A new client today who brought out the psychic in me a number of times; that’s always fun. Spent the morning sprucing up the Blague site a bit. Turning a corner. I hope. The light at the end of the tunnel always looks different than you imagined. It’s a crunchy transition, but I know it will happen; I can see how the last two months’ worth of punching my way out of a paper bag yielded a plethora of glorious half-baked plots and quasidrafted memos and letters and directives. It’s kind of great. As if I tossed myself a bunch of heaps of half-shapen clay, into the future, for me to now pick up and finish off. Again, it’s kind of fun. I can’t tell whether of under or over achieving—neither I think. Productivity can go at a pacific pace; and I’m feeling confident about less being more.

I am keeping a vague eye on my tummy, which after a certain amout of time must be referred to as my gut or surely just my stomach. My father used to refer to his as what sounded like la banze; I believe this would have derived from la panchia or paunch. My father had more than a paunch, he had la banze, a big round mass worn rather high. I have the gene to some degree and can easily go there if I don’t watch it. So I watch it, ish.

We have a Full Blue Libra Moon tomorrow at 12:36 PM tomorrow. The Full Sap Moon (which is what we’re calling the second of March’s full moons). We won’t see another Blue Moon until Halloween 2020, and we won’t experience two blue moons in a year until 2037. I don’t know where I’ll be. The Libra Full Moon, Moon opposing Sun (and Mercury) in Aries, forms a T-square with Mars and Saturn in Capricorn. A certain personal mastery is required now to balance your will with your want; and the selfish aspects of self with those that require tandem effort. Other people write about astrology in this manner way better than I do. I’m better at the vibey not the nitty gritty stuff.

I will skip out on the Easter rituals this year looks like—to be honest it is the one holiday that I do skip out on most. I love the renewal energy of this time of year and I’m already feeling it for sure. I will take the Libra Full Moon to reflect on my ambition and personal development. Being a Libra, it impacts my own native Sun placement, my chart being somewhat nebulous as my parents didn’t recall my exact birth time; thanks. But if we say I was born around 6AM then Mercury would likely be on the ascendent from the twelfth house which makes sense given the psychic messages. This also puts Sun and Libra squrely conjunct in the first house where it makes me something of a aesthete, artist, effete perhaps, if not fey.

My Venus opposes Jupiter in the seventh, suggesting one-one-one relationships loom large just as an amplification in my own personal development might counter any soft, if not week, aspects associated with my sense of self. I do feel torn, perhaps, a little bit, this time, during this Libran Blue Moon, not spending it with my one true loved one; but I’ve been doing so much to’ing and fro’ing and I was just in Boston and I go again this week and the transience can negatively impact my mojo which is very again to motivation.

I can say this: that I’m happy to let certain chips fall where they may, while still fearful of what others may do so. I must learn to trust myself more to be self-caring and responsible. We are all like children asking for increased responsibility. Having felt abandoned one all too easily becomes ever more abandoned in their attitude and behavior. I wish to avoid any such lifestyle choices, because, at this point in my life, that’s what they would be. Comes a time when you can’t rationalize away behavior based on your conditioning. And people that continue to do so must also fall by the wayside.

Thus I feel that the Blue Moon in Libra, which some are calling the Full Sap Moon, is about rendering, coming to terms, deciding, even weighing out and valuing—all Libra actions. It’s not just about taking stock, it’s about paying up, thus karmic paybacks too. We are deciding who’s who and who does what and what worth things carry in our lives, whether they be interests, relationships, job, causes, art, pursuits, and so on. It is also time to put up or shut up, and to pick a dream and commit to realizing it, or let it go.

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days. 

 

 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Little Devil

Aries 9° (March 29)

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A lot has happened since we were last here. I dreamed I had sex with a devil, that was fun. We never did quite have the sex I don’t think but still; and I remember I was prepared perhaps to pull out some kind of “the power of Christ compells” you incantation to ward off any juju; but I either woke up or the dream melted into another one. I Googled it of course and it’s about a bunch of things like being in conflict, characterized by a direction your taking leading you astray; or that you’re being seduced or tempted into doing something you don’t want to do. It can signal urges or emotions we are not in control of. So it’s the externalization in devilish personification of influences that are undoing us. I accept any and all of those interpretations.

Today feels like the time of year, each year, as a kid, you’d watch The Wizard of Oz; I don’t know how to explain it other than to say I think it was always on TV lat March, around Easter, when the clouds outside often looked like the clouds of the opening credits, creating a seemless transition, over the rainbow, from the reality of (typically Sunday night) suburbia to the Technicolor world of munchkins and monkeys. There was always a mystery, one felt, to be found in the shadows of the scenery or in the characterizations of the Witch’s army, much the way, as a child, you might get lost inside a duvet cover, finding a secret portal to the other side.

There really is no rush for anything. And, with Mercury retrograde, anyway, today, I planned to make black bean soup with the one single jalapeno I bought at WF this week, the one the check out lady even commented on, being this tiny object inside a flimsy green produce bag; but it must have been thrown away accidentally upon unpacking the groceries; so I got in the car to go get another one at the local market and the car (my old Mercedes) wouldn’t start; only slightly turning over. Ironically, taking it out on a rare drive to get an inspection this week, which it passed with flying colors, it must have lost battery from the driver door not quite closing, which it often doesn’t, leaving the inside light to wear its charge down to nothing. So that was a fun haiku of harumpf this morning.

But here I am. And I don’t mind working a bit late to explore all I must explore today. I enjoy few things more than writing, as it turns out; had you asked me that a year ago, I would have said the complete opposite—so this is new.

I remember when we first got the deal for Sextrology, I think I was telling you: We took a trip to Ireland which I’ll delve into sometime; then to Italy and France; and while we were away for a solid month, friends of ours found us a winter rental in Wainscott, for October 1, that we moved to, in a Jeep my father found for me (and I paid for)—now here’s how cynical I am: I will guarantee my father made some money off of me—and it was really rather sublime to be out in the Hamptons but we only made it to the New Year because I had the bright idea to buy a house on Cape Cod, which we did, it will be, twenty years ago, this autumn. The house was called Shine Cottage, as it belonged to Muriel Shine, a woman well into her eighties at the time. It was a tiny ranch, but could have been a dormered two stories; happily though it was exposed wood ceiling and rafters and beams all painted white. It was a five minute walk to the beach down the road; and it really was rather idyllic, except that it was filled with flies, situated near a horse farm. Driving to the house from the main road you passed pastures and pumpkin patches. It was quite near Georgica and very beautiful and now a dream. It wasn’t expensive. Just a thousand a month for a three bedroom can you imagine; nothing like that, not eve winter rentals, can be had for those who could be in the Hamptons in the winter; now everybody can.

I get a sinking feeling when I think of those days, in Wainscott. We made a friend called Tom whose brother Hamilton was friends with Caroline Bisset and rather known in and among the young, shiny faces of New York in the nineties. Tom worked at the wine shop attached to the Red Pony food shop. We became instant friends and he came over for dinner and so forth. We lost touch and then Facebook came around and I didn’t see him so I reached out to Hamilton who I didn’t know. Tom had died, I never found out how. He was a floppy haired Libra like myself, I dare say, still. Nostalgia is a killer and I’m on a heavy dose it seems today. Started yesterday, I was thinking about “tithing” as we typically choose some pointed way to give something to somebody each year; and then yesterday the young man from whom we leased a car, three years ago, came over (and again today with the car) to fill out paperwork; and he broke down in tears launching into the story of his life since we met him, admitting that he took the opportunity to come out to us because, he had sensed three years ago, that we were “different” and actually said “hello” and meant it, being present, I guess. His story is private and multi-layered and sad and, I will say, one feature of was the loss of his older brother. This was the major theme. too, of the Garry Shandling documentary I watched, in two parts, over the last two days.

Something powerfully emoting, emotive, emotional? in the air. And then that devil dream.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days. 

 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Roseanne Barred

Aries 8° (March 28)

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You remember the Brady Bunch episode where Marcia helps out this nebbishy girl (she wears glasses and her hair up) helping to make her popular and then the girl gets all uppity hanging around with some in-crowd and starts treating Marcial like a pleb? Why this theme is recurrent in my own life I can’t tell you; but if I had a dime for every character who came into my life seeking help and a certain solace, if not asking for endless favors, only to leapfrog over me to target the more (fill in the blank) of my friends or associates, I’d be a rich bitch today. But Marcia and me, we’re better than that, so we don’t dignify such situations. I just put it into my Blague while she takes it out on Jan. Poor Jan. I always dug her side-part though. Weirdo that I am, my crush was always on her, not Marcia. “Sorry Marcia but I’m going to have to let you go. You’re a good worker, Marcia, but Jan here is just a little bit better.” Waaah-waaah. The upshot being, of course Jan was the better worker—she had to be.

Whereas this used to really get under my skin I now just kick into observer mode when it happens, realizing that a good part of this sort of thing is normal (although not for me); also, as I get older, sad but true, I tend to stick close to an intimate circle(s) of friends I’ve had for decades and really don’t make new ones. It might be a guy thing. Women seem much more capable of forging meaningful platonic bonds, regardless of their age; I on the other hand, quite simply, don’t. To be honest, I wouldn’t even know what the forging of a new friendship would look like; I think it’s different for people who work in a team or group setting; everything I do, but for consultancy with S., I do alone. The only reason this isn’t terribly scary is the sheer number of people I do interact with via the consultancy, keeps me from losing my faculties for language or social interaction. Still, I have always felt like that Reses monkey (spelling? I don’t have time to check—see below tag).

The invitation to see Cursed Child on Broadway arrived today and I’m so psyched to see it with the original cast. As it turns out we are in NYC in any event meeting with clients old and new. Ah, April in New York City. I love the blossoms along the river on the walk to Battery Park, that stark pink against the periwinkle sky. Can’t wait. I want to take a long, long walk—not off a short pier. And I’m already tasting my dinner at Indochine. Sorry but these are the things that excite me about New York. I’m feeling generally excited anyway, though not too-too. It’s enough right now just to keep it real and hit some marks; but I’m trying to go on instinct these next several weeks and just know “generally” what needs to get done, whilst not being all schedulely. Things are often simpler than we make them. It is always about letting not making, anyway. The great unfolding (not to be confused with the dreaded unraveling).

Watched two things on the screen last evening. Part One of the Garry Shandling doc bu Judd Apatow and (no she didn’t) I did end up watching Roseann for sentimental reasons. It wasn’t good. I saw what they were trying to do—pitting the political debate between Roseann and Jackie but the “democratic” Jackie was the jester-buffoon in the pussy hat. Anyway, I did love the Garry Shandling and, as neurotic as he might have been, his journaling made me feel more normal. Although he was laser focussed in his notes-to-self on stand-up and making it, more, more, more…and I’ll write about pretty much anything, there was a similarity in the way that we outline what we need to do to achieve x, y or z. He really only talked to himself. I have you to talk to. But (who am I kidding?) I’m the only one both reading and writing this. Ha!

 ,,,

Postscript: Duh, I am writing comedy, here, thus the “Blague” double entendre. I literally forget. Literally literally. I’m a fourteen year old girl, but who isn’t nowadays?

 

 To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

A Separate Laugh

Aries 7° (March 27)

 

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I was thinking on the subject of performance yesterday: In a way we already have a great show in our bag in the “Christmas” show; in that we set it up that the “Christmas Story” follows the same pattern as the Zodiac, and vice a versa; but this becomes a stretch (but a forgiven one) in the Christmas show which is so “uplifting”. While the truth is the “Jesus Story” is what really follows the same pattern as the Zodiac, so we can easily remove anything Christmasy and go more for the parable aspect of being your own personal JC.Starsky + Cox • Cosmic Geezus is what I have in mind. This idea is COPYRIGHTED so don’t get any funny ideas.

I slept very well last evening but I’m more useless today than usual. I’m going with it. Everything will get done in time. I just need more of it. Which means not being in a rush. I have been on such high alert in some ways now for years; it’s been nearly four years since I was dealt a pretty devestating blow in my personal life; and only about six months since being clobbered on the professional side of things in the most extaordinary and ironical of ironical of ways. I have never looked for help and had even backed off utterly in certain areas of my career, only to be offered, without asking, an incredible leg up, or so it seems, as it was all fairy favors going poof.

I remember the summer of 1998 we were putting finishing touches on a book deal and we had friends looking for a winter rental in Wainscott for us while we had set off to Ireland for a few weeks alone followed by a journey back through London to Paris where we got a car and drove to Umbria and then to countryside of the Charente. It was bliss feeling that everything was ahead; and yet, in hindsight, my thinking was flabby, and my spiritual core not so strong. I feel, now, in comparison that I am much better off on those scores. And I’m suprised to discover that feeling to be honest. Where I feel now that I’m lacking is in laughter. I haven’t laughed all that much of late. I know many of us haven’t. And as much as I want to resist laughing off anything serious going on, I wish there was a separate laughter that could happen. There has to be the kind of laughter that doesn’t just let the steam out of the valve so that we “get through” all this. There has to be the kind of laughter, like a Mel Brooks laughter, of laughing at those who think have so much import.

I would totally accept the criticism that this Blague is navel-gazing. However I think, in so doing, staring at the sucker, you can still find universals, even, perhaps, quite readily. So what else about that trip back in the gay nineties? I think I would tell myself not to be in such a hurry. I think I would tell myself to live frugally and bank more cash. I know I would say not to be too tunnel-visioned with things, but to continue to pursue a variety of interests and activities. I have no regrets because they are an illusion. I only have now; and I could easily thread through some of the things I started and stopped over the years (know what I mean? you have those?); but it means getting off the rollercoaster of merry-go-round or whatever metaphorical amusement park ride you now find yourself on. There is nothing like a late cold March to make you feel stretched so very thin, spiritually. I guess, in that regard, Easter comes at a great time for those who put all their spiritual eggs in that particular basket.

I am so ready for another journey like that one, back in 1998, before I knew so much. We did a show a few years back as the opening to the Afterglow Festival and we were speaking of the god Ganesh and how one sings the word Hu and how Dr. Seuss must have based his Horton Hears a Who, upon it. And so we ask ourselves, are we listening out for that, and are we also shouting, hoping someone will hear. I don’t have time to mine all the content I’ve created over the years especially as I spend most of my time creating anew. What to do. What to do.

 To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Honoring Thy Suburban Selfness

Aries 6° (March 26)

 

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Feeling frustrated today on a few levels—not exactly sure why. Socially, nothing seems to change, there is no grand revelation, the criminals continue to get away with the proverbial It. Personally, and I’m sure it’s exacerbated by this weather, it feels like Groundhog Day, and that things show no sign of altering, but for the weather. Stella stresses the weather within a lot; and I’m all about it now. I can feel my body screaming for a change. For sunshine, for fish oil, for something, gods know what; and I wish they’d tell me.

My fingers have been hurting of late and I already have that weird pull thing in my palms along my ring finger line; I think I know what it’s called but I hate saying the words, but it ends in “contracture” and it’s a thing that people from North European descent often get, especially men. Also I had a terrible car accident fourteen years ago and gripped my steering wheel so tightly in the midst of it that I bent it down flat nearly. I would actually prefer it was that then the contracture thing that only gets worse. Every paragraph can end with the sentence. So I should go back to yoga.

I am determined to have my most successful “busy season” ever. And that entails in joying working more around the clock; spending time in my office in the evenings, writing and organizing and corresponding and all that. I’m having a late Lent so the boost in my healthful practices should have some kind of positive impact. I will likely cut my hair—I haven’t since October, if you can believe it. That’s six months ago nearly, holy merde. My 1985 Mercedes passed inspection this day without a glitch. Which made me feel hopeful. I thought if Old Yeller could do it so can I. Pass inspection that is.

Most often, I will share, it isn’t the what but the how. We trip ourselves up a lot on the what. But some days you just have to do what’s right in front of you. Or you get thrown a curve ball, money wrench, fireball to put out. So what if you looked at life as all of that. In other words what if there were no such things as distractions but just priorities and you fielded what was necessary in the order the Universe prescribed. The macro and micro cosmic universes that is, because most often, yes, the call is coming from within side the house. But there is this little invisible traffic cop at an intersection under construction and he can only let traffic go one way at a time. You have to say STOP to the inner mandates, often, to let the outer ones have right of way.

We walked out of Stop n Shop leaving a half full cart of food. It was ridiculous shopping at this local nightmare; they were making nonsensical phsical changes so everything wasn’t where it has been for a thousand years; but when asked a question, the staff was so surly, dismissive and generally unhelpful, we were like, you know what we outta here. So we drove another twenty minutes to Whole Foods, which, I’m sorry, is still shopping Nirvana. Everyone is so nice and friendly and everything is so fresh and organic (everything at the other placed looked green unless it was suppose to). We filled up for the week and then had a super early lunch at my favorite spot around Orleans, Sunbird. I always get a smoked mozzarella and kimchee sandwich on sour dough, with a hot turmeric, ginger, cinammon, honey and coconut milk. Again more Nirvana. Honoring thyself. Nothing bad ever came from that

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Surfing Seals

Aries 5° (March 25)

 

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My dreamscape last night was crazy. I had this male lover or something, with whom I hadn’t been intimate (so I don’t really know what to call him) but he was young and sort of trade-ish and we either met at some resort or he was writing me, oh yes, that’s it: I received a letter from this fellow who had more than a friendly attachment to me, the premise being that he and I had already spent time together, though it wasn’t sexual by nature (it never is in my dreams); however I had the distinct feeling from that letter—I believe he mentioned coming to see me, or I was somehow going to be seeing him, coincidentally where he worked, at this resort from which he was writing me. I remember looking at the map and seeing he wasn’t that far from St. Tropez—I have a very dear friend who lives not far from St. Tropez either; and as I type this I do feel a longing to return to that part of the world. There was nothing incriminating in the letter—I passed it to Stella to read; and I think I said to her, at least with my eyes, that I thought the letter was infused with anticipation. I felt she agreed. We were going to keep a watchful eye.

The dream was so bizarre and included some recurring elements like: Stell and I were walking on Twelfth Street, from Seventh Avenue, toward Greenwich. There was a song one had to sing, a little ditty, that was like the opposite of an open sesame, upon leaving the subway station, as if to ritualize the passage. Anyway, I found I still had my key to the front door; and Stella ran a bit of interference keeping lookout while I put the key in. It was thin, like a pin (hey no cracks) and yet eventually went in and turned and we were in our old lobby. We pushed for the elevator, and more people came in, and we were waiting all together; keeping an eye to make sure the super John or Kevin (as he was called in the dream) would show his face. I think I confused this so-called Kevin, based on the real life, last super we had there whose name tramautically escapes me, with short-lived super called Frances whom I really liked. Anyway, we got up stairs and down the hall and, I believe, into the apartment. But, truly, as this is a so-often-recurring dream, I’m not sure if the rest of it is a remembrance of last night or a previous night in the past. But I think because I fell asleep watching the film of The Odd Couple, with that eight room Upper West Side apartment, with the moldings, so exactly like those in our two room West Village apartment, the hair-trigger I’m on for being launched back into this dream landscape was pulled and so there I was. It was in more disarray than usual which makes me suspect I did dream about it last night, triggered by Oscar Madison’s messiness.

I am a Felix, after all. I have the same afflictions: the clogged Eustatian tubes, the bursitis in the shoulder, the rampant need to clean, cook, shop, tidy, time and measure everything.

The dream went from the inner landscape of my old West Village apartment to this place, I’ll say Europe, where this resort spot on the map from whence this younger ardent fellow wrote me was a short hop skip and a jump. I was already on the beach and then on the water. Swimming, in small boats and so forth. A friend was swimming along the coastline and he was too far out beyond the breakers. Seals as big as sealions were riding waves, smaller ones, babies, “sitting” on their parents who were stretched out like surfboards. It was cartoon comical, but there was something lurking; and then large sharks, or at least one, panels of slick grey and white running the length of its body, and it was munching on boats and I tried to signal my friend but he seemed to be okay and then I don’t have much that readily comes back to me.

Still, I always feel that the quality of the dream is as telling as the content. It was so very vivid.

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

The Youth Of America

Aries 4° (March 24)

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I do think it wonderful to witness the March For Our Lives (even though the tiny skeptic in me can’t help but feel that this too, like most things, will peter out). However, the thing I do feel is different about it as an event was that it provided a marquee underwhich these kids can find unity and live according to more democratic dicates and also, vote in more global a block. They know hot to be connected to a great many people at once, a hallmark of both technology and of the Aquarian age. The archetypes of Aquarius, too are the cupbearers (which contain not just eternal life, but eternal youth). And, look, my skepticism isn’t about me—I am all in, and I cried throughout the entire thing, for love of the kids and for pure joy—I just think that by the time the society at large takes on what these kids truly have to say, that they will already have kids of their own. We have to know that and they really have to know that. They are the youth, but they must sacrifice that youth in the achievement of their mission, which is, by any account, truly spiritual in nature.

The rally was so visceral—cue young Samantha throwing up on stage; and rightly dramatic—the six plus minutes of silence, Emma standing staalwart. That was not easy to do. I tried to look up her sign on line but I couldn’t find it. What I hope also gets stressed is the connection from the Parkland kids to all other kids everywhere—that was rightly represented and I not only hope they keep it strong, I hope that form an impenetrable web that goes beyond the gun issue (which it already house) to the unity of the races, social stratas and every other bogus category that divides us. They want us divided and these kids have the opportunity to stand up to what has been an endless inevitability of division which may be starting to gasp it’s last entropic breaths.

It’s important too that, at a time when we may have to take to the streets for other issues involving politics and, particularly this White House, as we projectile toward impeachment, this has contextualized that probability, setting a positive example whereby we can all participate in a poised and peaceable manner. In the face of deepest trajedy, the protest looked not only poignant and powerful, but also uplifting. We need to remember moments from that rally moving forward.

Meanwhile back in the cosmic kitchen I made three soups today, one from leftover spinach, mushroom and potato I brought with me to Boston—and onion, celery, carrot and stock and zhush: cups of soup for lunch with leftover cheeses. The second soup, we’ll have for dinner is a roasted red, yellow, orange pepper one; and I’ve prepped a celeriac soup to have for tomorrow, Sunday’s, dinner, when, I hope, a porn star helps to bring down a circus peanut.

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Better Not

Aries 3° (March 23)

 

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I’ve really debated, back and forth, about sharing a certain creative idea with you; and, though even now, when I felt the impetus to introduce this Blague I had already determined that I would. Then the second I started typing, well, I feel that maybe I should shelve the idea. You see it has a great title; and I’m not sure weather revealing it, in a copyrighted…so I think I’ll muse on the stars of the month—the Aries people of the planet.

Aries males are the butchest. And it’s always the Aries man show. He is great at putting it out there but it’s difficult for him to take things in. This buster can filibuster, like the fire sign he is, sucking all the air out of a room. He is the most honest of the gender signs, for shiz, and fairly brutally so. He is boss, and he’s good at it, so long as his delegates buy wholesale into his vision. Voted most likely to achieve singular goals, Aries man is shot through with adrenalin, just one of many A-words associated with Aries, along with ardour, assertion, aggression, ambition, actualization, achievement—even his biblical and mythological archetypes, Adam and Ares (Roman: Mars) do likewise.

I’ve always found much treasure in the typecasting of actors as they often get pigeon holed by virtue of the archetypes and attributes associated with their star signs. Aries women play unapologetic and unabashed. They can be at war with the world and the men what made it. They hold themselves apart, at once aloof and armored, thus, one feels, also readied for attack. They are objectifying of that which they want, which they want when they want it. What she fancies is hers by rights, it seems. She is selective after all and thus singular in her ambitions and would be conquests. She can be most selfish for love, if not in it. To connect the aliterative dots she is alert, attentive, aware, audacious, avid and avaricious. She assimilates and seeks to do so, most simply. She is strategic and employs an economy of moves, suffering no fools. She isn’t by nature sentimental, and she will people, places and things from her life, without regret. When she goes, she’s gone, to coin a phrase.

A little musing never hurt any astrology writer after all. And I suppose I am getting the cobwebs out of my creative machinery specifically designed to churn out starry notions.

Shopped Provincetown, to Perry’s, for a final hoorah of wine as tomorrow will mark day one of thirty specified alcohol-free days; so we got a bunch of cheeses and paté, and smooth arichoke, and we had Formaggio’s grill toasts, arugula and Badoit; so we watched news and had a picnic which isn’t something we normally do, but it was so much fun. We put off our big shop and just pieced together what we could. I actually love creating meals from the fewest of ingredients; to be honest I think you get the best meals that way, so I’m already eyeballing what we’ll have on the weekend, including the leftover picnic will never eat in its entirety, but…close enough.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Now Voyage

Aries 2° (March 22)

Unknown

 

Irksome that the person who was supposed to be working on grants for us moving forward, who also expressed such enthusiasm on the subject at our hotel the other night, suddenly had a total pendulum swing and is out. I feel like the erratic behavior of our circus-peanut-in-chief is normalizing this kind of polar behavior in people who would think this parralel absurd. I don’t think it is. So now I have to either abort the plan do make a new foray or find someone else to do it. My time working on non-profit stuff is precious and it’s bad enough that there are time-wasters out there I have to deal with all the time. I don’t expect the time-wasting to be coming from inside the house. But there it is. What can I do?

So now, adding this to my plate: The question is can what began last year as a new Glow Festival be considered a new thing, each year? if it happens offsite (not in Provincetown) but, say, happens at the same venue each year at some theater in Boston. And would the artists take and the venue’s take of a split be considered “costing” Afterglow. These are the questions that need to be answered (you can skip the whole italicized bit if you like):

Using last year’s Glow Fest as an example. The hosting venue paid 40% (against a guarantee) and they took 40% for themselves of the total ticket price, leaving us just 20% for which we do all the heavy lifting. If the venue split and the artist split can be considered expenses then we easily “spend” a good chunk right there “paying” the venue and “paying” the artist. Then there is press, marketing and promotion, and administrative or “production” costs that would make up another half. Since this grant requires we pay out of pocket double what they’d be willing to give us, we have to know in advance if we can afford to do it.

 This means no out of pocket at all since it’s against splits and in-house work. Again, that is IF the venue’s take and the artists’ payment, which do come out of “gross receipts” constitutes our expenses. One thus wonders if there a way to ask that question without seaming like we’re trying to get away with something, which we’re not Probably, I think the key phrase is: are what would constitute expenses incurred by our non-profit to be considered against gross ticket receipts for the event—that is to say: not necessarily out-of-pocket. I know that’s how we do our own accounting breakdowns for profit and loss each year so it is probably doable.

 And then, on top of that, we can fundraise for it. Anyway, I wouldn’t do this until Spring of 2019. I’d like to find a new Boston venue for it, based on our reputation, but that brings us back to the first question: can this event happen at the same place each year and be considered a new event and qualify for this grant year on year? Or would it have to be “moveable” which has it’s own appeal. Anyway, maybe, by then, it would take hold and we wouldn’t need the grant. I want to add Emerson into the mix of places to seriously approach for your project anyway. (Once we decide on whether to do this AND we look at what the actual meat of the grant needs to be, then we can likely put it together easily (hopefully). 

 I realize that my using the Blague to sort out some creative ideas and logistics may be dominating a bit lately but it’s de rigeur, really, this time of year as I begin wearing an increasing number of hats. We’re in Aries, the sign of adrenalin; cardinal-fire, thus, forward spirit, that which drives, if not animates, us. And, as I crank up again, as I do, this time of year, I can feel that invisible, very physical force, rising, kinkly, within me; I put it that way because the adrenalin rush can point out places in your spiritual body where you are blocked; it might actually be quite violent when it does occur.

Quite the snowstorm but it faded by midday and we snaked our way to Formaggio for provisions, got gas on Albany St. than circled around again to the highway south, a cold snow fog, with a wee warmth beneath. Wintery weather in spring is like an annoying child or friend who knowingly kicks up a fuss or gets a few more shots in before they must part from you. I write terribly if I think to hard about it. And we’re back and the point is I truly don’t wish to be poetic; I wached Now Voyager for the twelfth time yesterday—I love Claud Rains and Paul Henried, and of course…—and I feel as resigned at Charlotte Vale, a name evoking volumes. Resigned, she was, to recovery and sacrifice, asking not for the moon, but for the stars. And, the actress, an Aries, bringing such truth and reality and ultimate wisdom, her owl eyes, to the part.

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Afterglow Snapshot

Aries 1° (March 21)

 

Afterglow_Logo_2017_FINAL_website-header

So I need to articulate where I feel “the story” is now for publiciation vis a vis what we’re doing, non profit. I suggested to the Globe journalist that now was a perfect snapshot moment to feature us—so off the top of my head:

As we approach the eighth annual Afterglow Festival in Provincetown, and plan what will be the 4th annual Glowberon series at Oberon/ART (the name of which we hope will change to Afterglow @ Oberon or something else!) Here we are in the midst of season three, having presented four artists already this season, as we look forward to the final two artists of this season, Joseph Keckler and Fauxnique, who perform April 5 and May 17, respectively.

 It feels like a perfect time for us to muster awareness about what we’ve been doing in Provincetown these past seven years, and in Cambridge these last three. Afterglow was founded (by me and John Cameron Mitchell) in 2011 to preserve and champion Provincetown’s birthright as the birth place of modern American theater and performance, which it is!—many people know that it is the oldest continuous fine-arts colony, but less known is its theatrical heritage—to provide progressive performing artists, whether totally new on the scene, emerging, or seasoned and experienced artists experimenting and expanding their oeuvre. We stage Afterglow after the full glare of summer when Provincetown’s stages aren’t peopled with Broadway stars—stages, like everything else now in town, being valuable real estate. Audiences were riveted and we were hailed for achieving our mission of preserving Provincetown’s heritage—ironically “progressive” Ptown’s theatrical tradition, so we must always be evolving and presenting new artists; while bringing some artists back, year on year, to help them build an audience, etc. Audiences have come to “trust the curation”, realizing we will be putting artists before them which they’ve never seen before. Okay…..

 So straight away, I started presenting some artists at Oberon/ART in Cambridge and after years of discussion about my “bottling” my Afterglow work for Cambridge, we began what has been called the Glowberon series at Oberon in 2015, from fall to spring. And in summer of 2017 we also presented a smaller four day Glow Festival. All told, we have brought thirty artists to ART—we’ve presented about sixty artists in Provincetown—and have built a Boston-Cambridge area audience for our artists whom these audiences have mainly not seen before in their lives. And yet they come, our houses continually growing, proving there is a public here that is willing and eager to be turned on to new artists based on the reputation of Afterg/Glow/Beron.

So here we are. Joseph Keckler and Fauxnique. Joseph is a actor, singer, writer with a classically trained voice who writes his own operas, often in Italian, that could be about taking mushrooms and inviting over too many would-be booty calls from a hookup site. And Fauxnique is Monique Jenkins, a classically trained ballerina steeped in a tradition of radical queer performance and theory. They couldn’t be more different and yet the both fall within the “Afterglow family” of artists whom I would maintain are also social activists of sorts. All our artists/acts must have a narrative, even when presenting cabaret (which will usually modified by the world neo or alt). Pausing now in the middle of this third season of the series at Oberon, in anticipation of these two artists coming to Cambridge, we want to turn people, who still don’t know about us, onto what we’re doing.

Okay that felt good. Thanks for letting me use this forum to get some thoughts down on virtual paper. Stella had to boot it out of NYC yesterday to avoid the snowstorm, having only arrived there on Monday. Such a bummer. I had brought a bunch of food with me to the hotel and purchased a couple of bottles of good, organic, inexpensive red wine, and holed up (it is hole up and not whole up, right?) in the hotel suite getting my head around what it is I need to do, avoiding this long-lingering cold. Anyway, we had provisions on hand to be cozy and get enjoy some wintery extinction bursts before we go deep into what is going to be a month of light eating and teatotaling which is always fun. To everything turn, turn, turn. Today we will walk to the South End and do a little shopping and have lunch and clear our minds and just take a mini-vacation in anticipation of the storm, arriving here overnight. We shall see!

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols culminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
Copyright 2017 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2018 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

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