Aries 0° (March 20)

Happy Spring! Pisces 30° (that link takes you to the last Sabian Symbol post from the first year of this Blague) is one and the same as Aries 0°. Now, the Sabian Symbol corresponds to the day leading up to the degree. This is why that, at the bottom of this (and every day’s) post there will be a link from the first year I wrote the Blague that corresponds to the next degree than what is listed above with the date. We are talking about the same spate of time. Again, it’s just that 1° of the Sabian Symbol means from 0° to 1°. If you don’t understand what I’m saying I’m sorry. I’ve done the best I can. To reiterate what I said yesterday, I am reading five days worth of the first year of this Blague every day for the next year. I have already written five years of this daily Blague, so reading five entries a day means I’ll be all caught up to myself by the time we get to Spring Equinox 2021. I have never read any of my Blagues to date and so this is a way for me to review what I’ve done and maybe pull some things out that might make good content for future live shows or books or for personal use. As I stumble upon some good stuff I’m going to cut and paste it here and maybe write into it or add to it. What I will likely do is not cut and paste anything specific about the Sabian Symbols themselves (metaphysical expressions of each degree of the 360° circle of the Zodiac) because there will be a link to those entries at the bottom of each of these daily posts, taking you to year one of my Blague writing where I daily addressed the Sabian symbols. You might click back and read yesterday’s post if this is making no sense at all to you. I was pretty smooth in my expression about it in a way I feel I’m failing to be now. Clicking the link below to the 2015 Blague entry will give you specific information about the Sabian Symbols themselves. This has become bi- or even tri-directional. And I promise you it will be a lot more fun than the present tone would suggest!

So an update on what is actually happening on this day. S. and I got up at the crack and packed. We heard yesterday that our angel friend is going to fly us back home on a charter jet. We couldn’t be more grateful or more blessed. Just got to Stanstead and we are awaiting to board the Global 5000 airplane. I will tell you more about it tomorrow!

I wrote the following blocks of text in Blagues 1-5:

Then this winter I lost my wedding ring. I’d lost about thirty pounds since I bought it and it was my own damn fault for not having it resized. There were moments of foreshadowing when I’d wake up with it not on my finger only to find it had been flung across the room when I turned abruptly in my sleep. But on one of the blizzard days in Boston a month or so ago I returned home from a walk with it gone from finger. I couldn’t quite feel my fingers because it had been so cold—it may have come off with my glove, or just fallen from my super shrunken frozen digit. I was very upset. Very upset. Despite the fact it wasn’t one of the set of rings we actually exchanged at our wedding, it had more significance still. I mean, we were married in 1989 so our first rings were what you’d expect: wide silver Robert Lee Morris jobs; mine was so thick i couldn’t bend my finger for years. If I didn’t have an allergy to it, I had an energetic repulsion. It never felt good on me and I stopped wearing it not many years after marriage. For more than a decade we didn’t wear wedding rings until one day…yes it’s about to happen, folks!: a big synchronicity is making it’s way into my storytelling, albeit not unheavy-handedly:

When Stella and I graduated university we moved to Paris where we established a group of friends with whom we are still quite close. Jo was one of that number and just over a decade later she would begin publishing a slew of books under a penname. In 2005, she was already world famous of course and though we had been in touch with her, recently-ish, it had been a year or two; and so when we had a two-night trip planned to Edinburgh for the first time, from London where we were staying with our friends and godchildren, we weren’t about to let Jo know that we were coming, as it was going to be a quick thirty-six hours; and it would have taken some doing to reach her as her lifestyle had changed a bit to say the least. So we didn’t try. As it was, we had just one full day to explore the whole city and I was resolved that we shouldn’t even stop to eat—we should just keep moving and grab snacks and streetfood along the way. So, of course, being the Libra I am, by noon I was famished and wanted a sit-down lunch. We had stopped into Harvey Nichols—I think I needed to buy socks—and we thought, let’s go upstairs to the cafe. Well it was a crush. The place was jammed and the host pointed out that he only had one small table for two free, which was smack up against what looked like a univeristy student, scribbling away in her notebook, head down, and I asked: Is there not a more private table opening up? There wasn’t. So off we trundled, my left upper lip in a sneer, to sit down next to the scribbler twisting her hair. Stella didn’t sit but dropped her bag and beelined for the loo as I sat down, with my attitude, harumph. I noticed the scribbler was dressed all in shades of acquas and blues as I swivelled my eyes left and down. Nice boots for starters. And as I started to scan upwards, planning to sneak a peek, if I could, at the face, she was doing likewise, and our eyes met in a dead on stare. We both gasped or at least we thought we did. In fact we screamed, and Stella came running back thinking I’d had some sort of seizure or attack. Then we all three screamed more, quite audibly, which drew over the host and waiters who thought perhaps that the two Americans newly seated were accosting this lady customer whose identity was not unknown to them. While, in truth, the Universe had simply arranged a surprise lunch for Jo, Stella and me in so wonderfully easy a manner that we could never have planned for ourselves. We slammed our tables together and sat and ate and chatted for hours. Jo asked why it was we didn’t wear our wedding rings. We told her. And she said we had to go directly to her jeweler on George Street, Hamilton & Inches—she had just come from there as she was having a real golden snitch made for a charity event—and we were to tell the head clerk that “the golden snitch lady sent” us, and that we did, to which he, replied, “yes well, let me sharpen my pencil,” meaning let’s see what kind of discount I can offer on the two rings we’d picked out. I loved my ring. It looked like the ring. As in The Lord of the…but I lost it this winter after nearly exactly a decade.

But here’s the weird thing. First, since I lost my ring, it made the loss of those aformentioned people pale in comparison and it completely cured me of any pangs or angst on that subject. The second thing that happened was that I kept getting the phrase in my mind: The ring is a Horcrux. Now I’d like to say I know so much about the Harry Potter world that I could immediately rattle off to you what a Horcrux is, but I couldn’t, and I didn’t bother to even look it up until this morning, despite the fact this phrase has been being repeated in my brain since my ring’s loss. What I did have the greatest sense of, though, without knowing what a Horcrux really was…was..that somehow the ring being flung out there into the snowy world amplified a certain spiritual power and connectedness. I can’t quite put it into words but I’ll try: It has something to do with my mother who passed around the time I purchased the ring. Okay, however strange this sounds, my sense was that the ring, flung out there somewhere, instead of being on my finger, was taking on the form of a remote receiver, like a power station, and that it is actually functioning as a transmittor between not only me and my mother, but me and whatever powers from which I draw my own brand of psychic ability. And that the loss cum sacrifice of this ring, which I came to possess in the first place by way of a very lovely and entertaining cosmic joke, not only provided healing and closure on some pretty serious emotional pain, but it has become far more a source of strength and power than it ever could have been in my sweaty-palmed possession.

So, as I said, I looked up the term Horcrux this morning and it does serve a similar function to what I sensed my ring was providing, in that it is an object of power in which is hidden a fragment of the soul of the person who created it. The Horcrux anchors one’s soul to the earth if the body is destroyed and the more one makes the closer one gets to immortality. The upshot is they’re evil and only created by a Dark witches or wizards. Any opinions on my person from certain quarters not withstanding, I am a very white warlock and so I believe my ring to be the Light version of a Horcrux, designed not for some future immortality but for a very present sense of divinity. Interestingly, the Greek root hor- has two meanings: the first being boundary, as in the word horizon, which seems to define J.K. Rowling’s Horcrux, being that it is bound to its creator, and it binds him or her to the earth; the second meaning of hor-, however is hour, as in the word horoscope, something not unfamiliar to me. I cast my horoscopes as I cast my ring.

And I wrote this:

As a Libra, the Scales being the only “inanimate” sign in the zodiac, the male archetype of the sign being Apollo, the god of abstracts like: art, order, music, reason, prophesy, light, I’m sensitve to seeming too conceptual, not real, to others. And yet I’ve come to understand that the true nature of the sign isn’t about being inanimate but to animate, or to reveal as animated, that which is supposed unreal because it’s inorganic. What is Art? What is good Art? What is good Abstract Art? Why do we attempt to equate, compare Life with Art? Seriously, why do we do that? Why should Art be akin to Life? We might judge the merit of a piece of Art that falls under the heading—gotta love the term—”abstract realism” or any purely abstract work—a Mark Rothko piece comes to mind—on whether or not it seems alive or, in Rothko’s case, breathing. There might be something real in this. The artist working in absract forms may indeed be giving life and on the whole we, as the observer, sense, if not know, when s/he has. Characters in a play or in a novel are brought to life. Or perhaps they are revealed to be living—that they embody, giving abstract form to, archetypes taht already exist, in intangible form. What is music? We don’t really make it. It exists. We’ve simply found it and, like the triangle in its geometry, music has an inherent math that we’ve divined. All the art forms, personified of course by the Muses from whence the word music derives, are essentially abstracts; but we might consider them to be not only living but also life giving.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Pisces 29° (March 19)

Hello All. It will turn Spring in the UK at 3:49 tomorrow morning, that’s 11:49 EST in the U.S. I don’t know if you know this but: I have been writing a daily blog for the past five years. It is called the Cosmic Blague (blague means joke in French) and it was originally intended as a catalyst for drawing out stories from my life, filled as it is with extraordinary synchronicities, so-called coincidences, indisputable divine intervention—and, yes, moments when I seem to have been the butt of the Universe’s joke—all such experience which  Kate Bush tunefully called the “strange phenomenon.” I began writing my Blague with the start of the new astrological year, on the Spring Equinox, 2015, a time when I was feeling more than a bit kicked to the curb by the Cosmos. I wanted a daily ritual of accomplishment and I wanted to tap my well of story-telling but I had a hard time starting. So I gave myself some specific inspiration:

In astrology, each of the twelve signs encompasses thirty degrees of the Zodiac adding up to 360 degrees of this cosmic circle, corresponding (close enough) to the 356/6 days of the year. Some time ago, an astrologer and a seer channeled what are called the Sabian Symbols to express the individual nature of each of the Zodiac’s 360 degrees. So, year one, I mused on these symbols, to inspire thoughts I could type down, not only on the symbols themselves but also as a trigger for the personal stories from my experience that I wanted to relate. That was year one. In the years between then and now the Blague took on many forms and expressed a number of purposes. Sometimes it inspired incredible creative flow. Other times it made me feel super locked up and I would find other ways to keep going, including using it as a personal journal, a platform for other writing I had to do—shows, book proposals, articles, branding concepts—or as a way to vent and even gossip about people, places and things, though disguised for the most part—sometimes I would accidentally name folks (woops, that wasn’t good, especially when I got called out). There were spates when it just got really deconstructed and a bit Dada, but I kept going. So here, nigh on the sixth year of daily writing—starting tomorrow—I have come up with another way to trick myself into being prolific enough: I’m going to start reading my Blague entries (which I’ve never done) five a day—If I read that many I will have read them all by the end of this next astrological year—and I’m going to cut and paste the best bits for each day’s entry, while writing new thoughts that stem from doing just that. Let’s call it taking inventory of my thoughts to date and “development” of any work that might warrant it.

I have a great deal of other writing on my plate this year and won’t have a lot of free time for my Blague (sometimes I would spend hours a day on this); and so if I get really in the weeds with other work, these simple cut and pastes can function as “re-runs” with a little introduction by yours truly. This has been a really worthwhile process for me and, in typical woo-woo fashion, I will say: I think that by keeping on writing as I have done, mainly, for myself, even though other writing gigs or deals mightn’t have been forthcoming, that I created a magnetic force field to attract other opportunities to me. Because, as I say, it is going to be a busy year. That said I have not promoted this Blague at all, hardly. At first I was posting my postings to a Facebook page, but I stopped doing that. I may again; who knows. Anyway, just letting you know what’s what and hopefully, as I distill the Blague this year to highlight what I perceive to be the “best of” what I’ve done in the past, it might warrant other readers beside myself!

Actually this was my first ever entry in 2015: And I think it might be of some interest:

The beginning is as good a place to start as anywhere. Better, I suppose. Like any first attempt at something there are bound to be mistakes and I will look back on this initial go at some point and cringe. But in just a few hours we will enter the sign of Aries, it being March 20, 2015. And my plan for this “astrological new year” is to explore the cosmic energy of each unfolding day from all different angles. I don’t know what those angles are exactly yet, but I have gut inklings and they’re fun to follow. I have a few notions in mind, as well, for ancillary stories and such that I will spew here. In fact it’s those notions that inspired the title COSMIC BLAGUE which, I needn’t tell you, is a play on words; as blague means joke in French and is also pronounced blog, so, well, you get it. I’m especially out to explore the notion of synchronicity this year, too, as it relates, for better or for worse, to the universe “acting funny”. When we feel we are the butt of some cosmic joke, or when we miraculously experience synchronicity, in both cases the Universe seems to have an intelligence and a desire, even, to communicate with us. And I’ve found the more you get into that concept, the more it does try to tell you something, one way or another. So I thought I’d share some of my experiences with what I’ve come to perceive as a droll if not an hysterical cosmos. The “Strange Phenomenon” that Leo goddess Kate Bush sings about, no mere coincidence; there’s that. And then we’ve those times when we feel we’ve actually conjured things into being, which isn’t so much synchronicity, but rather, perhaps, the working of magic along these same channels or celestial avenues that sometimes “coincidentally” lead to our door. So I’ll get into all that happenstance, but I’ll stay on track, mainly, by delving into the energy of each day of the year slash degree of the celestial circle as we journey, once again, through the zodiac.

Most of you likely know me as one-half of Starsky + Cox, authors, among other things, of Sextrology which is a popular “sexy astrology” book I wrote with Stella Starsky. If you’ve read it you might agree that it’s deceptively smart and sometimes pretty funny. The sex in Sextrology primarily refers to gender, not the act itself—our premise being that men and women of the same sign actually embody different sets of archetypes that speak volumes on their personality, emotionality, sexuality and gender- and sexual-identity. The most recognizable archetypes are the classic gods and, being that our zodiac is a western one, these gods veritably live within that mandala. The gods are gorgeous personifications of energy. We too are personifications of energy. And we maintain that people born under a certain sun sign embody a different recipe of cosmic energy than others born under another sign—generally speaking, breaking the entire population into twelve groups, or twenty-four, in sextrological terms. But let’s put people aside for a moment (although they are the most vivid representation of cosmic energy available to us): If there is a blanket energy associated with each zodiacal month of the year that manifests through all life and experience, then it follows that there are more niche cosmic energies specifically linked to each day of the astrological year. I suppose that was the 1990s pop-premise of that doorstop Birthday Book, from which we all got a giggle, glib as it was. But I know there’s more to each unfolding lotus of a day than the empirical notion that Marcello Mastrianni, Bridget Bardot, Dita von Teese and, ahem, yours truly were all born on “The Day of the Heartbreaker”; although a look at that list would certainly substantiate the notion beyond a shadow of a doubt. That was sarcasm in case you missed it, Sheldon.

So, as we start another trip around the wheel, beginning in just a few hours, I want to plunge below the surface of the observable and see if we can’t more profoundly delve each daily turn, turn, turn. I get the fact that, to everything, there is a season; but perhaps there are more specific purposes to each and every day. To be cosmically aligned with more subtle energies, those that, when grouped together in a monthly clump might be recognized as this month or that spent in one astrological sign or another, during which time, taken together, experience has the flavor of that sign, as do those born during it, might very well be possible. For the zodiac isn’t frivolous in my imagination, neither in depth or in degree. Depth-wise, it is a symbolically rich system encoded with myth and mystery—in terms of degree, each day of the year could have a sacred significance. And sure, if people (again the best living symbols we have) born on a given day point to what that significance might be, their collective roles and tendencies are worth considering. I will surely be exploring the Sabian Symbols—more on those later—which have long fascinated me and, I suspect, will help open a doorway onto what the larger point is of, well, each point on our 360-degree circle of 365-6 days. Astrologers examine the significance of the signs of the zodiac all the time, a month at a time. But getting down to the nitty gritty of the daily grind of the cosmic wheel? Beyond the light entertainment of daily horoscopes, it’s not really done. So I want to get into it. My sense is that I will feel more aligned with the cosmic clock and better understand what makes it tick, tick, tick. If nothing else, I’m sure I’ll learn something along the day and, perhaps, stay that much more in the moment or, at least, the day.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Pisces 28° (March 18)

Talk about anti-climactic. I don’t know fellas but I am feeling put through the ringer. I don’t remember falling asleep as I did in the TV room last night and it was probably like three or something when I dragged myself upstairs. It took forever to fall back but I finally did, unto six-thirty. Got up and organized all my belongings. The reality is hitting. Now that we are in England we have no idea when it is we’ll be able to get back to the States, or even if that should be a goal. I’m hoping it’s psychosomatic but I am feeling a bit more dodgy today. My gut is it’s more my gut than anything else. I have my right-thinking cap on. I really want to be rested now more than any thing else. Chances are we are most of us going to come in contact with this virus; and the trick is to be in a state of good health when that happens. We had a little breakfast and watched the news, which is much more informative here than it is at home. And Emily came around nine-thirty and we headed out to see what we could find. After a little online research we decided to head through Holland Park—well, the footpath alongside it—and up to Holland Park Avenue, our old stomping ground, where there is a very famous butcher. Turns out it’s a ridiculously pricey butcher as well. Never mind. We got a few steaks which I will prepare with an arugula salad. Also some chicken breasts and chicken sausages to keep us going for the next day or two. We are going to contact our hosting friends’ travel agent to see if they can get through to Virgin because we cannot.

They have shut down all communication and say they will be in touch by text but never are. What a racket. As it is the greedy fuckers at the Eurostar charged us like $500 for making changes, which we needed to do twice. You would think in times of crisis that these sorts of fees would be waived but there is always profit to be made off of other people’s misery I suppose. We cancelled clients this week because we are scrambling to figure out where we are, never mind where we are going. After the butchers we found a little specialty shop, got some little cheeses and juice and stuff, and then retraced our steps back to Kensington. We did a little work and had a little lunch of salad and hard boiled eggs with pickle and some leftover smoked salmon and continued on working. And here I am right now, really. This is an interesting year astrologically in that the Astrological New Year begins tomorrow (late night in the US) but really early morning Greenwich Meantime on the twentieth.

Things patched up with Ian which is nice. Nobody needs the bad blood these days. Heard from the TV folks and super happy that’s moving forward. I am still, now, a number of days behind. Why wouldn’t I be. I still can’t believe I only got to day 23 of my 30 day Bikram challenge. Well at least I got that far. We are weighing all our options right now and will figure out just what will make the most sense for us. What a mystery that will be. Things are changing every minute here. I probably went too far in putting this out of my mind today (in other words I raided my host’s bar for a stiff whiskey at the end of the day while I was cooking the evening meal of sirloin and arugula, which was quite an easy task. We had taken a late afternoon swim which was rather therapeutic and I don’t think I was aware of how anxious and dread filled I’ve been. It was quite a trauma leaving Paris. I feel as if my life has been ripped away. I don’t suppose the other deals that we’ve had in works will come to pass. I am truly shocked by…I have no idea what I was going to say there. I got distracted by some social media posts. Lots of people I know are doing live stream performance. I see that JVB is doing one for free which is exactly right. I can’t figure out how to stream it however. I suppose it will be just a live Facebook thing. Hey, every little bit of cheer helps. I am in the process of figuring out what to do for the first day of Spring, which is the start of year six of this Blague if you can believe it. Well that’s what I’ll do starting tomorrow!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Pisces 27° (March 17)

Paris, Day Fifty Four of, well, Fifty Four. I cannot tell you how bummed I am. And how tired. We woke and spoke around four fifteen and then I probably fell back around five-thirty for just half an hour. I have to dump out my entire pot of celeriac soup, along with the roasted chicken, potatoes and brussel sprouts I made last night for supper. I am packing as much as I can of the rest of the provisions but we have two heavy suitcases and a giant carry bag each that weigh tons. We both take baths to calm down. My body is in revolt and I can’t tell if I’m dealing with a pull or if I’m having a panic attack or worse. We have to get a car and we have to get to the train. We put the biggest cranky pack we can into play. What I didn’t mention yesterday was that amid all the chaos and the packing S. had contacted our friend Jo who had offered her house in London so S. texted her and said, well I think we need to take you up on this. The house is sitting empty but we will meet the housekeeper who apparently is going to get some food in as well. We turn off France Musique, which has been on constantly these past fifty-four days, and say goodbye to the flat and send our bags down the tiny lift, three trips in all. Uber said it will take about eighteen minutes to get a car and though we ask for a van they keep sending cars. And we call the driver and he says no his car is too small and we keep trying meanwhile I get the number for Dom’s taxi from Nan and we call them too. There is nobody on the street but for the rare passer by on a bike, wearing a mask. Finally an Uber big enough shows up and we cancel the taxi and head to Gare du Nord. On the way we see queues of spaced apart people lining down whole blocks to get into a local Monoprix. Maybe we are doing the right thing after all. How would we ever be able to function here? I wonder. We get dropped a the station and go through the ticket and baggage and passport check. I don’t want to say anything but I feel really odd—hoping it’s just nerves and fatigue. There are no concessions open, let alone the first class lounge. We just sit and squirt gel into our hands. And it’s time to board and there are a lot of people here but much to our surprise our car only has two other guys in it. One of them wants to chat but we are shutting that down, the other is an older English fellow trying to get back to Norway where he lives with his wife but that country has closed up shop, too, apparently. I’m haunted by the images driving to the station actually, it was amongst the most grimmest images I’ve ever laid eyeballs on. S just read that you have to have a sort of written declaration on your person if you’re outside anywhere.

I forgot to say that yesterday after shopping we saw the doors to La Fronde were open and Yuan and Vanessa and some other folk were in there cleaning out. I suppose that was why the trash area this morning was so disgusting smelling of fish. Anyway we told them that we were staying another month so I will have to find them and write them. Not that they care, exactly. Also tonight was the night that we were meant to have Yvan (not to be confused with Yuan) for diner. I was so looking forward to that, but it obviously wasn’t meant to be at this juncture. Amid all of this our book is being optioned and we are now contracted as consultants on TV show based upon it. That’s pretty exciting, no? Especially, since it’s the book we call the “other sister”. Anyway, we got to St. Pancras and there was no queue for taxis and the young driver was cool and smart and engaging and it was an easy ride to Kensington where our friends, who aren’t here, have a house and have so generously offered it to us until we figure out next steps. I feel a bit iffy but why wouldn’t I after all this travel in any case. And last night was just awful. Anyway when we get to the address, the housekeeper is here and she gives us instructions on what’s what and where. There is a swimming pool in the basement or rather the basement is a swimming pool. I’m blown away not by the luxury because it is an understated, though perfectly appointed place—I’m blown away by the kindness and the gratitude I feel for my friends. Words cannot express. We venture out in hopes of finding food and first come across a Waitrose which we enter and exit in easy measure. There was zero on the shelves. We see people carrying Whole Foods bags so we keep walking in that direction and find the place at Barclay Circle (or something like that) it is filled with shoppers buying multiples of everything and is pretty picked over but we manage to get some salad fixins and some pasta and sauce for tonight. People are all in masks and here we go again. After Italy and France now we are doing this a third time. We are in touch with our friends by text and let them know we are just going to make some food and crash tonight. I feel truly blessed.

And we did just that: Took a little swim. Bath time. Then put on jammies and slippers and made some nice spaghetti with sauce right of the jar. This is not a time for me to be an authentic Italian. Watching the news—Boris is doing updates at five o’clock each day apparently. They are not mandating business shutter their doors. And why not? Because then these businesses would be eligible for insurance money. Instead they are recommending to consumers not to go to places of businesses, which will cause shops and restaurants and hotels and such to close, but these places wouldn’t get any insurance money because it would have been there decision to close. So sleazy and so obvious it makes me sick: Boris et al protecting the insurers over the public and their welfare. Makes me want to throw things. And yet Boris is at least intelligent enough to pretend he cares unlike the mandarin blob in the White House. Good golly what a world. We need some intervention action and we do not it pretty damn quick. Never have we lived through such a scary time, all wrapped up in an already scary time these past three and a half years. I need some good news and I need some fast. So much for it being St. Patrick’s Day. I used to love this day growing up. My mother and grandmother would make Irish Soda Bread. We always had home made corned beef and cabbage. It was actually a thing. When I was old enough to play hookie I would go to New York City for the day and drink green beer. I don’t know how it is my parents let me do that. And so weird that bars would serve a fifteen or sixteen year old. Oh, I dunno folks. I know it was un-PC to have the opposite of helicopter parents. But it sure was fun and formative, having to fend for yourself. The way people raise their kids now—please don’t get me started. It is weird that they haven’t closed schools here. There is some scuttlebutt about kinds not getting sick from this. Not that they don’t get it I guess, they just remain basically asymptomatic. At least that is the spin. It is possible this thing mutates, gets stronger and kills us all.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Pisces 26° (March 16)

Paris, Day Fifty Three of Sixty…or Ninety Five. And Day Twenty-Five (minus One) of Bikram. So needless to say I didn’t do Bikram yesterday and I’m hoping to set up for it this morning in the next twenty minutes, meaning I’m going to write now for fifteen. We cannot get through to Airlines to change our flights which is absolutely ridiculous. I do think things will slow down with the airlines but for the time being they will not return texts or messages which is adding to the daily frustration. I’m having weird pains in my hoo hoo area which I’m sure are pulls from Bikram. I have to do two in one day this week which is fine. I spent a lot of time with my mother in my dream last night and awoke to a picture of her plopped on my FB page by a family friend whose mother was very close with mine and who lived in the same town as we did. We used to go to their home every New Year’s Eve and they would make whisky sours for the kids. Why? I don’t know but they did. I am going to make the most of all of this and get all the provisions we need in house on a daily basis for as long as I am able to do so. I am only going to write for another ten minutes. There is so much sadness that is beginning to surface as a result of all of this and I am feeling at a loss but the trick is not to feel personally persecuted. We must be a source of strength for folks. We might even do a few days online of quick and dirty readings but I know that won’t go over well. I have to call my Dr. in Boston and make sure they contact me. I also need to reinstate my My Account. I suppose I could have someone else do it but it doesn’t cost all that much to phone from here even though I don’t have a plan. At least I got online to pay my Verizon bill. Today I will get caught up on all my finances and receipts. This is all a great investment and so much is already coming from the work we are doing. I will also move into plotting the planets for 2021 and smooth out the opening narrative of the Aries chapter. Why not! I put out the following on social media:

Hello from Paris. It is becoming quite the ghost town here, which is a good thing. We need to get it into the heads of younger people, especially, that their congregating is a selfish act and that the entire population isn’t as strong as they are in the face of this crisis. But it is starting to happen and we suspect there will be more rules and regulations and curfews imposed here. Paris is a Virgo and therefore both a germ phobe and highly organized and functional when facing an emergency. Of course there are challenges being in lockdown no matter where we are, but I plan to make lemonade from the situation as best as I/we can. We have to stay connected—how fortunate we are to live in a time when we can be in touch with so many, electronically—and we must encourage one another, especially those of us for whom isolation can trigger depression, fear and deep loneliness. What we cannot afford is the luxury of negative expressions of social experience—the trolling, the gaslighting, the cancel culture or any such crap designed to make others feel bad or less than on any level. Now is a time to be an uplifter of the first order and to show and give Love at every turn. Besides staying healthy and safe and sane, we can use this time to be creative and to ask for help and to take it. I for one am here for anyone who might be having a rough time with all of this. Reach out and message me if you need any emotional support at all. I will be checking my social media accounts constantly and I do have a couple of decades under my belt as a consultant of the cosmic kind. It benefits me as much as it does others to see through to the silver linings which are always there! Be calm, be creative and be in touch!

Anyway it is a start. I do want to be part of the solution. If we pull together we can sail through this mess rather unscathed. Let us call for the return of light and strong sunshine to disinfect this planet of ours. I dare say I think she is trying to tell us something. She needs to rid herself, perhaps of the burdens we have caused her. Then again I don’t know Gaia to be a cruel goddess who would attack the sick and elderly. We have more likely done this to ourselves. How quickly ones experience of a place can change. But this is unprecedented and we are experiencing a new aspect of the human condition than we ever have before. We are truly vulnerable but truly resilient. I want to help myself and others in the process. I want to make sure that they get the support they require and deserve. As I said I got to meet my mother in my dreams and I hope that this continues. I know that she is sending me strength during all of this. I just saw that Pornhub is giving Italians in lockdown free service. That is one of the funniest, most amazing things…wait, things are getting really fucked up again:

We went out to do more food shopping—probably have spent at least $500 over the last several days. And I have enough in house, now, for about twenty-five meals. I was just getting ready, setting up to do my yoga, when S. had a text from Alice whose assistant is French. Macron is planning a speech for eight o’clock tonight; we are sure it’s going to be about stricter measures. But what we didn’t expect was this call from Alice saying that her assistant’s sister is a Nurse in Lille and her friend works for the government and that it is going to be a two month shutdown. And so S. is already changing our Eurostar to tomorrow and we are finding ourselves packing up all our belongings. I have to call Dom and Nan and Dom is going to come and pick up my twenty-five meals worth of groceries in the pantry, fridge and freezer. This is a nightmare. I was all poised and ready to stay and now we are scrambling to get back to London, which is not comping well with this crisis at all. It costs nearly six hundred dollars to rebook our train for tomorrow afternoon. So as I’m packing I feel I’m doing the wrong thing and S. disagrees but I’m not arguing with her. We open wine to pack with and I put all the food into bags as well. Dom comes over and we drink wine and eat cheese and then help him into a car with the six huge bags and we come back upstairs and eat roasted chicken. I have a soup I made for tomorrow. Then we watch Macron and he announces that everyone must stay in their houses for at least two weeks. And he keeps saying we are at war, over and over again. And there will likely be tanks in the streets enforcing the command that everyone must stay in their house except to go food shopping or to the pharmacy or bank or newsstand, but they have to stay in a five hundred meter radius. And everyone we spoke to is saying that Macron’s words “at least two weeks” actually will mean longer. And the travel ban goes into effect noon tomorrow—noon!— so S. gets back online and changes the Eurostar again and they charge us another seventy euros, and we are drinking another bottle of wine, and we have to fall asleep soon and get up early enough to get out of here and make an eleven a.m. train. Argggggggh.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Pisces 25° (March 15)

Paris, Day Fifty Two of Sixty…(or Ninety Five). And Day Twenty-Four of Bikram. It’s my mother’s birthday. It’s the Ides of March. We have decisions to make about staying or leaving. I am up too early and I don’t know if there is yoga today. S. hears me stirring and calls to me and she is upset and homesick and we decide to stay awake and figure this out. I know a great part of her wants to pack and go to the airport. I am not of that mind at all. We have some coffee and talk it through and decide that we are probably going to stay in Paris.  Outside the flat we see Jose Antonio coming out of a voting center so we ask if Bikram is shut down and it is. Waaah. Today is meant to be day twenty four. He suggests I do it at home in any case. And I think I will definitely do that. Well, my mom did give a little sign already today and I don’t want to lose the momentum so I will make time before dinner today to do my own session and ring the bell that way. We get to the pharmacy just as it opens and I have a way of getting my medication sent here. I will write my doctor Monday morning I also need a way to cancel a hospital appointment. Maybe I will write a letter. I tried the email route let’s see if that yields. So we then grabbed a shopping bag and set off to buy some fish and chicken and veggies and so forth—the butcher lady speaks to us at length about making sure to get all the provisions we need. People are walking around with tons and tons of toilet paper. It isn’t quite yet the panic we are seeing in pictures coming from the states. And the weather will be warming up here a bit. I just feel that there are ways to avoid this and stay ahead. If I were to get it I would probably already have it from going to Bikram for twenty-three days straight. Then again maybe that’s what’s been keeping the virus at bay. Nan writes to say that only supermarkets are going to be open moving forward. She didn’t mean that. But it sends us back out into the streets. We buy more fish to freeze and go to Picard for some frozen burgers and shrimps and vegetables. I now have a pretty solid list of food in the house that will last us, I’m guessing, about twenty days. I’m going to write out a menu of what is currently here in house.

Sunday 3/15 Lunch: Chestnut Soup. Dinner: Salmon w/capers, mashed potatoes, frisée/radicchio salad.

Monday 3/16 Lunch: Caviar and Chive Omelet. Dinner: Poulet Roti, potatoes, peas + onions

Tuesday 3/17 Lunch: Celeriac Soup. Dinner: Ratatouille w/ rice.

Wednesday 3/18 Lunch: Salad and cheese. Dinner: Chicken and lentils

Thursday 3/19 Lunch: Celeriac Soup. Dinner: Risotto (mushroom? shrimp? pumpkin?)

Friday 3/20 Lunch: Salad. Dinner: Fish and vegetables

Saturday 3/21 Lunch: Caviar and Chive Omelet. Pasta (vongole or red sauce or Carbonara)

Sunday 3/22 Lunch: Soup. Dinner: Chicken

We would still have frozen cod, burgers, veggies and frites which would add up to three or so meals.

Anyway, my focus is on spiritual concerns today. I may address that more tomorrow. Here are some posts I put up in the last little while. They should work here in this context.

I see so many artists going through such pains with the cancellations of their shows and all the collateral damage this sort of thing entails. Remember this next time you back out of a contract last minute for no good reason, especially leaving a non-profit entity in the lurch and holding the bag for all they invested in you (knowing full well nobody has the time or resources to recoup losses from you). If we can learn anything from this experience, we can learn compassion, dignity, follow-through and common courtesy for our fellows in the artistic community who all work hard, in various capcities, to further the efforts of artists who are emerging, exploring and evolving. Feel this moment and let it make you a better, kinder, fairer, humbler and a more upstanding member of our community.

I don’t have any pictures of my mother (or my father for that matter or even of my younger self)—it’s a long story—but a few moons ago my spiritual sister Bonnie Lauton sent me a couple of snaps from the 1960s. My mother was and is a pretty powerful Pisces and I’m invoking her guidance today as we find ourselves abroad at this scary and confusing time. I know if I ask her for a sign she will send one! Happy Birthday in Heaven.

An etymological note on the word Kindness. It’s more than being nice. It’s understanding how we are Kindred, what Likeness we all share, and (the proverbial) Doing Unto Others…I have been shocked these past days by others’ rude and crude and cruel behavior. Those who consciously add to others’ unhappiness, especially in times when focus should be on coming together and compassion, just seem to be the most evil of beings.

Paris When It Sniffles: With all the travel bans in place and what I suspect will be a privitization/monetizing of people’s misery in the form of for-profit quarantine facilities, contracts for which to be given to the usual greedy, sociopathic monsters as are running the concentration camps at the southern border where children are still in cages, we think it best to stay put, here, in a place that prioritizes civic wellfare over profiteering in the face of a pandemic.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Pisces 24° (March 14)

Paris, Day Fifty One of Sixty…(or Sixty Seven). And Day Twenty-Three of Bikram. Today was another challenging day. Neither of us know what to do. No work is being done because all our energy is going into figuring out what to do (which we never manage to do). We just go moment to moment. I made two soups in the morning then we headed off to Bikram class, which was harder and hotter than typical. There was this weird guy in class who went around telling people not to talk to each other. It was very strange. After class I made some caviar and chive omelets with a radicchio salad. And then we went for a stroll up to Barav to buy some organic wines. The news keeps changing. There was this announcement that the orange menace was adding UK and Ireland to the banned list. I don’t know what we are going to do in regard to travel. We have a flight scheduled in two weeks from Heathrow to Boston. It seems we can’t just extend our stay. We’d have to commit to being away another month, which means another five weeks. I’m actually fine with that I think. Anyway we had some snacks, crackers and Hercule, and a beautiful honey-flavored white, watching our favorite show, with a lovely salad of frisée with an anhovy dressing and this amazing blue cheese. Then we heard that all shops were being closed as of tomorrow but for food shops. So we went back out and got even more vino de vino as we only want to drink the unfiltered, bio kind and we are not sure how long Barav will be closed. We came home and ate some chocolate mousse with crème fraiche. That’s what happened. Meanwhile there is this backdrop of the unknown and uneasy. As if I’m not creeped out enough.

Saw this video of Billy who is still wearing clothes I gave him, which is also super creepy. I don’t know how or why it is people are so damned sketchy, they just are. V. has been writing to S. about the whole virus and where to be thing. I am going to keep a very low profile after once again being burned by a member of the local gentry. I just came upon a photo of myself from 2013 and was I ever thinner. Wow. I had no idea. Definitely going to pin that photo up somewhere as a reminder of how I really used to look. For inspiration not to beat myself up. I’m really saying any old shit today because all feels like whistling in the graveyard to be honest. I am trying my damnest to not only survive but to thrive through all this uncertainty. It aint easy I’ll tell you. We will hear from J. that if worse comes to worse we can stay in her London house which truly comes as a comfort. Nobody wants to get this thing. One thinks she might have it? I sincerely hope not. I do think there is a mass hysteria in the U.S. unlike here where everyone is being remarkably calm. It’s fine. I just want to ride through and if I do get sick just get mildly so. There is no reason to freak out. All one has to do is take some paracetamol and drink plenty of liquids. If I have to drink hot water and vinegar I will do that. We are laying very low and getting lots of rest. That is the trick to this thing. Otherwise there is no real point in anything. What started off as such an active and rosey time really has dissolved into nothingness. I spooked yself out for the first time going back to our stay in Shoreditch two months ago, when I lost that plaid bag I had brought with me from home. Something about that incident started this snowballing spookiness. And then we went to Italy where we were surrounded by Chinese people and already on hight alert. That was over six weeks ago but not soon after Italy was hit truly hard and I feel we dodged that particular bullet just in time. And then when we got here there was a certain abandon that has long since, now, been abandoned.

I feel the need to express myself and talk myself through all of this. I feel altered but I don’t think it is because I am infected. I think it is because my nerves are so on edge and I’ve done twenty-three days of Bikram yoga and, at this point, as they announce all these closures, I am guessing that the studio won’t be open tomorrow. I think that this can signal a turning point on any number of levels. Amid all this chaos and ignorance people are still fighting and name-calling and all that sort of thing. True colors really do come out. Anyway it does weird me out that people don’t have a clue about kindness and what it means.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Pisces 23° (March 13)

Paris, Day Fifty of Sixty…(or Sixty Seven). And Day Twenty-Two of Bikram. I have been having the weirdest anxiety dreams. Last night I awoke to our slipping into a beautiful warm and tropical sea only to realize the current was so strong it was zooming us out to sea. Bing. Awake. My heart pounding. I was aware of a vague sinus headache on left side of my face, over my eye, which I still have some ten hours later while writing this. S. didn’t sleep well either. Had we only known we would have just stayed up and talked instead of taking to the separate corners of our abode. We are really trying to figure out the itinerary in light of all things closing in Paris and whether or not, if even, Bikram is a good idea. But we go anyway and Rachel is teaching and she is tough. After yoga we decide to go to Miznam for lunch but it looks a bit dirty to be honest so we head to the Little Café but aren’t feeling that, really, either. So we take the long stroll to our sure fire spot, the Café de la Nouvelle Mairie where things never go wrong. It is a beautiful day and we get there in twenty minutes flat which is some kind of record. It is sunny and airy and we need this. We past two young blond identical twin girls sitting at a café on the Ile Saint Louis and then as we cross the second bridge into the 5eme a musician on electric piano is playing le Chanson des Jumelles. But of course. We climb Mont St. Genevieive and settle into a banquette. I’m having velouté of celery and saucisse avec pois blancs. S. has radicchio with anchovy followed by morue. We share some cheese and a Gaillac and gazeuze. We are trying to forget what is going on around us. We are trying not to be totally freaked out by life. It is Friday the 13^thand we are already a bit spooked.

I woke up this morning to someone telling me, in answer to my questioning what he would do if I posted the obscentities on his wall that he posted on mine. And he said he would decapitate me. Isn’t that nice? It’s very quiet on social media just as it is on the street. I am making a fresh chicken stock and otherwise trying to keep the mood light and lively. It’s good that we don’t have to do very much tonight. We won’t even have to do any more food shopping until tomorrow. By Monday it will be a different world here and we will just go from there. The big question is should we try to get out now or should we stay and wait it out. I for one think we should stay put. Even if we don’t go back until May I’d be fine with that. By then it will be warm and the worst will probably be over. I don’t know this for a fact but it is my feeling. There are now many options on the table. Anyway we did end up going out for little bits of stuff like some frisee and blue cheese and caviar and  and crackers soaps and stuff to fill in. Dinner was basically cheese and chocolate. I thought I bought crème de marron awhile back but it turned out to be puree de marron which I can use in a soup. We watched the news which is all bad and then some Friends reruns again just to keep our spirits light and lively. None of the deals finalized by this Friday 13^thand gosh oh golly but things are looking bleak. We are getting pressured by family and friends now to leave Paris. Just as everyone said just a day ago we were probably better off staying. I don’t know what to believe anymore. All I know is that I am truly, truly sad to leave Paris.

Trying to take stock of where I am, cut losses and look on the bright side. More Bernie brats coming for me. But so many more people agreeing with me. It doesn’t matter. People are going to be dying from this virus while everyone bemoans the fact that their individual performances are being cancelled. All I want is for people to be safe and to understand how to get through these sorts of things: Together. That is the only way. Young people will feel immune to this and make very few changes, not caring all that much about who they might be affecting/infecting. I’m so glad we packed in as much as we did so far this trip, because it will not be ending on that high a note. Pesky and Edie will not be coming. There is no social gathering of S., J., S, J. for tattooing (which is a small grace). I guess they will still go on their holiday. Would be great to say hey we can go but probably not the best idea. What will we do on the Cape, I wonder. I am so over being there on a social level, though I still find it dreamy when it comes to natural environment. All will be one big long taking stock over the next couple of days as info trickles in.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Pisces 22° (March 12)

Paris, Day Forty Nine of Sixty. And Day Twenty-One of Bikram. Woke up on the sofa thirsty as hell and guzzled some water and fell back in an actual bed. Woke up around eight o’clock, Stella already made coffee, and the first thing she tells me is about the menace’s speech and his new travel ban. What the actual. Having him as president is like growing up with my sister. They share the same birthday. As does Boy George and the accountant we just fired a couple of days ago. Anyway, this will be the topic of conversation all day to the exclusion of pretty much anything else: Should we try to leave early. Should we try to stay in Paris longer. Should we go to London as planned. All of it. I hate this president more than any other person, living or dead, I have ever known. It is not spiritual to wish ill on anyone so I will stop short of that but I have to say that I do not see a very rosy future for this subhuman menace who found his way into the ultimate spotlight. Imagine being that famous, having that much attention, and only ever, increasingly, day after day, being famous for being more and more hated. He is a drug addict. He is the most dangerous of sorts because he hates himself so much and is so bankrupt and desperate a person that he will think nothing of taking all of the rest of us with him. I search my feelings on all of this and I just think I don’t care. I am not afraid to stay in Paris. I’m not even afraid of getting the virus. I just want to stay strong and healthy and keep my face (and throat and chest) in the sunlight. This is probably the weirdest day yet of the trip because you get the sense that everyone on the planet, practically, is thinking about the same thing as you. I do think it is the beginning of the end but not for us; for this president and for all the criminals with whom he keeps company, starting with his sick family. We are not going to stand for this sort of handling of a dire situation. Anyway it is one of the most surreal days of my over half a century.

Went to yoga as planned. Kirsten taught the class. She is really old-school and smooth and never leaves the podium and I truly love her class (maybe more than anybody elses?) it’s possible. We came home after and had a mache salad and some chicken lefties. I am in social media battles with the Bernie or Bust people. And the poison is being leached. This one guy from Provincetown whom I run from if I see him coming lest I get hijacked for hours listening to his monotonous monologues that always hinge on poverty consciousness—you know how some really boring people have this knack for not letting you get a word in edgewise and manage to keep you captive for upwards of an hour? Well that would be this guy, who spokes way too much pot and doesn’t know his own uninterestingness. Well this douchebag went for me on social media today accusing me of being obliterating toward Bernie bros when all I said was that, unlike every other Democratic contingent, the Bernie-or-Bust crowd never gets over their bratty loses to the point of refusing to vote for other candidates when you don’t see this from any other Democratic group whose candidate loses or pulls out. I had this one guy, Martin Belk, who fancies himself a playwright, already go for me, gushing obscenities onto my page. I invited him to instead unfriend and block me which he did. These Bernie brats are effing ridiculous. Bernie isn’t even a Democrat. And he has the worst voting record in the Senate. Anyway, I’m stepping away from all that. Macron delivered a speech last night and basically Paris is closing up shop and we have to figure out what it is we are going to do. I suppose I’ll look on the Americans in Paris FB page and see what’s what. I am guessing we won’t be having that dinner party next week. Or will we? Everything is so up in the air. I think we will find out which stores are or are not closing. I might take a walk around the neighborhood. I’m glad we got out and went to museums and dinner the other day. We have to keep pounding liquid and try to get some work done. Everything will be delayed. We are so fortunate that we have a little resource right now. We have to be a source of strength for other people.

We watched a bit of news last night and none of it is really all that good. We will have to decide whether or not we go to London as planned a week from Monday, for a week, or if we should stay here for at least that long. I am going to suggest that we try to go week to week and not rebook the Eurostar until such time as we know what’s happening here. It is so easy to imagine one is ill at times like this. I have a dull headache and my digestion is a bit flukey, which are symptoms mostly of everything else besides this virus, but there you have it. I redid my schedule yet one more time but I’m not sure if I will even be able to stick to that. We are in such a state of flux it’s difficult to know exactly what to do. Anyway it looks likely we will stay put for the next two weeks and just power through and get things done. If we happen to get ill in that short amount of time we will try to stay healthy enough so that we don’t take anything too hard. I am sure that Pesky and Edie will not come to visit. I wonder if even Yvan will come to dinner. We did manage to have a fun time tonight in spite of it all and I suppose I’m grateful for the solidarity we are experiencing. I am super done with certain people places and things in my life and that’s not a lie. I must remain strong in my resolve to hit all my marks. My hope is that we will have some word back from someone about something this week. Meanwhile nobody is working in their office and everything will be pushed back. So long as we live this will work fine for us.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Pisces 20° (March 10)

Paris, Day Forty Seven of Sixty. And Day Nineteen of Bikram. So picking up from where we were yesterday, we strolled back from the Boul. de Beaumarchais and worked until we met with an L.A. client by Skype. This client is someone who has been struggling so she has been our tithing client this year, which always feels nice to do. Then we had a talk with an editor from Hachette which we felt went really well—fingers crossed. We then set out to this restaurant which didn’t look that great. We hovered outside debating before finally going in. They asked us if we wanted an English menu. The place was empty ‘cept for two American couples, one of which didn’t know how to order wine. We were sure we weren’t going to stay but asked if there was a bio wine in any case. This threw the waitress for a loop. I don’t know, she said, I don’t drink. Great. We got out of there. She was really weird. We ended up at a waaaay overpriced but delicious Lebanese place. It was the Virgo “Worm” Supermoon and I forgot to look up. The prosepect of writing a book, while fantastic (if paid well) is also really daunting given our present projects. But it isn’t impossible. I just need to speed some things up and slow others down. That is also okay. I’m not sure we should be launching anything risky until the world stabilizes a bit in any case. We were laughing really hard. There was a skinny couple in the corner exhibiting their love for each other. It was fairly revolting. I have to calm myself down even further. Don’t even remember my head hitting the pillow last night. It was “annoying French person day” yesterday. Also a result of the Supermoon, je quois. People at class and on the streets wouldn’t fucking move out of the way. It was like, hello, other people. I feel really alienated from folks back home, something else I will need to work on. There is so much on the plate right now it’s crazy. I want this TV thing to happen quicker than it is. Calm, patience. It’s not easy.

I must remember to look at the moon tonight if they skies are clear. We are definitely going to stay in. Woke up today with a frog in my throat. And with an increasing need to get back out to the stores and get in some supplies. Maison Plisson has those ready to eat weird jars of very French, mostly Southern, food like Cassolet. I asked S. how Dr. Kimberly got back to Milan. She didn’t. She and her boyfriend went to the Canary Islands instead for two weeks. Italy is on total lockdown. I do feel like we are living in some sort of movie version of life. We are going to Monop’ before yoga class to get in some supplies. I have a haircut appointment today. That will feel good. We will do a big shop on Rambuteau. I still feel terrible about losing the Burberry plaid shopping bag. I need also to look at the schedule and decide on doing more with Tim. There was an email this morning from Hachette saying we are the real deal and wishing we could write the book faster. Give me a book deal first before you start asking these kinds of questions please. We could be leaving Europe with a book and TV deal. That is if they let us leave Europe. If we can’t “get out” for some reason I will just go to the south of France until it blows over. We could then take the train from Marseille to London just in time for a flight. Anyway we are here for another two weeks so I’m going to try and enjoy it and make a menu of things we might need. We might think about freezing some meat or fish if there are any more threats of things closing. I think that would be quite wise.

Michael taught yoga today and it was the hottest class yet. For the first time, I found myself hiding in postures. For some reason Susan Goldberg telling me how R.L. used to purposefully have unsafe sex with young guys with the aim of infecting them came up in my savasana. What a horrible thought and what a horrible being. Every artist I’ve brought to Provincetown, it seems, has been appropriated by either his low-life band of miscreants or by the likes of J.D. (West), including those I once labelled best friends. It is also those so-called best friends “fault” if that’s the word you wish to use. It matters so little now. First I do think karma is a bitch and those who have cancel-cultured me will feel the burn at some point; and anyway they have freed me from having to even be remotely emotionally responsible to them. Anyway this has all become so increasingly irrelevant it isn’t even real. After yogues, we came back and ate some delicious soup. Usually the cleaner comes today but she’s sick (uh-oh) and Alex from the agency had said he was going to drop by while she was here for “two minutes” to do something for a client (which was vague). We were here when he arrived with two other people!!! He was showing the apartment. It was very odd and were weren’t super happy about that, but we didn’t show it. Still, it won’t happen again. I then went for a hair cut which was also super odd. When I say that I was in and out in fifteen minutes including getting my hair shampooed and blow-dried I kid you not. S. didn’t even have time to go and get a coffee. We then went to BHV in search of aprons we never found, but we did get jelly insoles for our shoes. We headed to Terre and had a coffee and then to the produce guys for fruits and veggies, the butchers for a roast chicken, Bacchus for wine and to Mme. Fromage for everything else. There wasn’t much time between unpacking all that and our call with yet another interested publisher. We have now had two conversations. The Hay people buggered off which is fine. I hope someone out there can afford us. The Cricket thing got sorted. We are still waiting on the TV stuff. All in all it is a creepy day. We are increasingly, day by day, being spooked by the virus thing. I don’t know what to do or think about it any more to be honest.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox