Taurus 0° (April 19)

I feel like all I really did today was a repeat of last week—cook and wash clothes, which is really a boring way to spend a day. I have not felt like myself, something I alluded to yesterday I believe. I am hitting the reset button for real and I can no longer let the things that have bothered me do so. Still I am in a certain agony. Not as a result of the plague that was sent to kill us, but by a shadow one, of my own manifestation, or so it would seem. The world is now an empty place and yet I feel the ancient echoings. I will fight this and I will win for a time. But it won’t last liong. I don’t know exactly what I’m meant to do today but I do not what I am meant not to do and then is fret. These are difficult times but we can make them work for us. I am singularly uncreative today for some reason. I will spend time in the kitchen. I freestyled and made a quinoa tabbouleh which came out really fantastic; I also made a hummus which was yummy and I’m going to make another one tomorrow.

I truly which that I could say something inspiring here today but I am really dealing with some torment on the physical plane. It isn’t something I really should talk about here but it is absolute agony of a kind I cannot even begin to describe. I cannot wait for the warm weather and the ability to sit in the sun and let my skin turn brown. Everything just feels so out of control. I’d like to say I miss my friends but mainly my friends are people I’m used to missing as they mainly live overseas. It might be nice to get some new friends but, once again, this is an old refrain. And I’d like to refrain from it, if you don’t mind. There have been very many times when I haven’t known what to say, just as I haven’t always known where to turn. I have my work cut out for me, but right now what seems most important is to be able to breathe, in a real and in a metaphorical way. Everything will be cancelled I imagine. I’ve been cancelled for the most part. I guess it has to be my fault. I can’t imagine why else this seems to happen to me. It’s like people assume I don’t have feelings or something. Then again I have always barked up the wrong trees for the most part.

A number of years back I was feeling very much at a peak in my experience. I felt like I had finally got to a place where I was being respected for my performance work and I was feeling pretty included in that world. I even remember being lumped in together as “Cabaret Royalty” by influencers in NYC. But it wasn’t going to last long. I’m happy that I had a taste of it; more than most people enjoy I suppose. And I’m also grateful that I have focused on other things. At times like these being a performer is not something that is going to yield and if you rely on it for making your living you are in particular trouble. And besides, by the time I reemerge, I will need to do so at a much higher level. Okay I need to start making some kind of (another) to-do list if I am going to move the needle in a significant way. This weekend I will do some spring cleaning, taking out the screens and hosing them down and putting them in, scrubbing floors and windows. It will be another ten days before I can take non-trash items to the transfer station but that’s fine. The thing about me is that I do have a very farmer-ish side to my character. And that is only going to group, more, day by day. By the time all of this is over I hope that I will achieved something solid, if not monumental. I am going to be very low stakes about stuff. I will admit that everything seems a little crazy to me right now. And the only way to get over it is to get through it. Part of me really enjoys the feeling of being sequestered and letting the days go by. I am in a race against time in other regards, but that, too, is up to me. All I need to is go over the work I started and make the proper adjustments. It truly is not rocket science. I want to plant an herb garden but I want it to be super simple. Any old wig: That is probably enough boring stream of consciousness for one day.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 146-150.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

nothing to insert from the past Blagues today!

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

Aries 29° (April 18)

Ah, the feeling of having just one project (right now) on my plate on not having to multi-task. I finished up writing next year’s books a bit earlier than expected, and now I am moving into a fashion project which I believe I’ve already said. Last night was a bit of a blow out. I ended up making pasta and buying some wine and glugging it down. Fell asleep (read: passed out) quite early and woke up to watch the last three episodes of BoJack so that binge is now complete. Such a great show and could have watched as many seasons of it as there are Simpsons, to be honest. Anyway I just need a day to catch my breath and then I’ll be back at it. As it is, woke up to snow on the ground. Over a month ago I was walking around Paris and it was already Spring and now I’m back in Winter and it is weird and sucky. The peechies are back, which is a total bummer. You won’t know what that means and that doesn’t concern me in the least, really. It is not the best timing though, that much is for certain. My skin is so itchy that I can barely stand having cloth against my it. There is a part of me who feels like he has already been exposed to the virus and that it didn’t make him sick but it did somehow alter him, like on a genetic level. There is something very sci fi about the way I’m feeling; I can’t expect you to understand. All I really want to do is sit back and read my book but I don’t think that is going to happen today. I have allowed myself to get behind, after reaching such a great point. I know I need to rest so that is fine and I will do so. The coffers are being refilled and my ears are aching. Will there ever even be vacations again. Where will we go if we go on one. At least I know that the manoir is a place to which I can escape and that is the one place where one can truly relax. I don’t know what to tell you today. I’m a little down there is no escaping the fact. I’m being worn. And I need very much to pick myself and start all over again. But how to do it.

I’m so surprised by the people here. I have been helping and giving and never get one word of thanks. I do not understand. But I am detaching from all of this. I cannot spend my waking hours being upset by what I cannot change. I suspect there are many people here who under the guise of being helpful to the community are just trying to pivot and make a buck any which way they can. And really who dan blame them. Once I get through this week I will be on track to make some major headway over the course of the next year. I will not be able to write on here much. I say that but you really never know. The point is that I can only do what I can do; and at some point I have to really front load my peace of mind which is one and the same with my physical and mental health. These peechies have got to go. I’ve tried soaking and scrubbing and still…anyway enough about that. Anyway I know things will start to get better soon. They just have to. For now, I just want to choose the right television programs to suit my mood. And read another chapter of my book. I’ve roasted a chicken and I have some bokchoy. I’m going to let the little bit of wine that’s left be enough. I can’t keep chasing some kind of grape escape. It’s time to reel it all in. The point is that nobody is doing anything for show at this point. What we are doing, we are doing for ourselves. I am out of stories to tell. I want to work some twelve hours on the project and get it into a place where I’m proud to show it off. This is my only goal this week, work wise. We have a client follow up but that’s about it. Time to make new plans and memories and score new goals.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 141-145.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

nothing to insert from the past Blagues today!

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

Aries 28° (April 17)

So far this year I have visited four countries, seeing dozens of friends who live in these places, including London, Edinburgh and the Highlands, Venice and Paris. I have written all of the twelve Starsky + Cox 2021 Haute Astrology Books, completed a course at the Alliance Francaise in Paris, did a 30-day daily Bikram Yoga challenge (though I got shut down on day 24), helped develop an entire (top secret) product line; had our second book optioned for a TV show, been hired as a consultant for said show, hiring a manager in the process. And I have sold a new book to a new publisher, Hachette, which is super exciting, while continuing to see our regular year-round clients and a few new ones. I have also executed a branding/writing project for a fashion design company, and I have outlined the structure and casting for this year’s performance festival, drafting letters (I am sitting on) to would be sponsors. All this plus the shopping and cooking of mostly creative meals and the drinking of many delicious, though inexpensive organic or biodynamic red wines. I have made a slew of new friendships and seen a few end by no fault of mine. I have endured the escape from these countries from whence our travel was cancelled (with not just the help but with the absolute power of generous friends who found me transport); and I have gone through all the packing and unpacking and every receipt and tallied every bit of financial information to date for several budgets needing balancing. I will now re-read our first book and hand edits to that first publisher as I get on a writing schedule that will total fourteen months into the future. I have also reached the near-end in the process for reaching a settlement with the perpetrator who miraculously didn’t kill me in a car accident they caused, rear-ending us on a highway going full speed, five years ago. All of this should be adding up to a good deal of opportunity if not money in the bank. But having properties is having money in the bank. Very soon I will find a way to address the publisher of our first book, a company owned by the evil Murdochs, with which we seem to be at odds. It’s like I always say if you’re going to be at odds with somebody (or, in the extreme, have enemies) be damned sure that they are really bad people. I feel that way about a few key past players in my life now too, to be honest.

Last night we sat and listened to Belle and Sebastian, it was very therapeutic. I ended up finishing an entire project and I’m really excited to dive into the next one which is very fun and fashion-y. All in all I think I have a good plan that might also include some relaxation. I think my approach for the festival is a good one. We wait until May probably and I will talk about what’s gone down and how we are going to do what we can. Our plan had already been to offer students and seniors, blah blah; we are now considering doing all invited audience and space people out in the theater, handing out masks we make, The artists could still come, that is if we have a theater, which we may not in the end; I’m sure everyone is hedging their bets. I am starving for friendship and scared of them all at the same time. Did I just say that “aloud.” But seriously, I also happen to live in a place that is so incredibly polarized. It is all I can do to walk down the street without feeling like it’s the halls of junior high, rife with rancor and ridicule. I’m very much getting into my book characters; especially given the birth details of John Dee. I feel bad I don’t play more music. I think this is the answer, antidote and the absolute priority of life. I mean, let me amend, I do play music, I just don’t have any real expertise in doing so. But I’m so determined to get it all going. I’m going to whip myself into shape and then get that podcast going because really it is the only thing. And I’d rather have somebody buy into something that already exists, something I can spearhead, then try to get people interested in you. That’s not really my beat, not that I wouldn’t let the manager try that angle…

…we actually ended up talking about it all and we both have differing (big surprise) views but both of them are actually valid. In any case that is the calling card. The point S. is making is that we need to sell and have it funded and yes we do. All told, this will be on the front load. And all things hang from there. I have to include blind confidence, now, as a resource, if not some swaggering bravado. I have to act like I know what I know more than my INFJ sense of self would normally allow. I think about going to the Jacquemart-André that day and then over to the museum where the skateboarders played. I need to download some of those pictures. It was a wonderful day with the skateboarders. And then we had snacks at Café du Marche and then dinner at La Laiterie and it was already kind of a ghost town. I cannot believe that I have been home for nearly a month already; so much has happened and then nothing has. I really cannot wait to get back overseas; but how will anyone fly anywhere nowadays without fear of infection. We can’t take boats. We can’t fly private although there was nothing betterin the world than that. I truly cannot believe we got to fly in a plane, just the two of us, all thanks to our billionaire friend. It is an experience most people will never enjoy. It was just incredible I still can’t even believe it’s real.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 136-140.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

nothing to insert from the past Blagues today!

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

Aries 27° (April 16)

My read back of five posts from the past yielded zilch to paste in below (as you can see from my italicized note) so I am hard-pressed to get something worthy down on virtual paper here today. I’m still really suffering with this weird rash I have and I’m just doing the best I can to combat the itching aspects of it and I keep dousing myself with a rotating roster of treatments. I suppose my concerns go, now, to a bit of not fear but perhaps some frustration regarding what my role will look like in the product development over the course of the next fifteen months. I suppose it’s fine to start where I am and just make myself scarce on the jewels front for now, while the truth is that I will be having to do a good deal of writing while stationed in Paris (hopefully) in the coming year. I know this doesn’t and shouldn’t sound like something about which to complain; however I might rethink location of living just in case I need a desk and an office. I don’t think the We Works of the world are going to be a thing of the future. The new book situation is already feeling annoying and it hasn’t even begun. I never understand the world of publishing, mostly due to the people in it. It has been one of the industries in which I’ve worked, along with a slew of others that closely relate. All I want to do is to be allowed to create and to be paid for my work. I’m so tired of hashing out details and the like. It’s terribly boring and such a waste of time and energy. I’d rather spend it working on other projects, reading or trimming my body hair, for that matter. Look I know there were more things on my mind than this today and I want to make some serious inroads in other directions today. I don’t feel like spending a precious moment annoyed. The world is in disarray and people are squabbling over the course of a week or so. It makes no sense. I’m planning a lunch of carrot-ginger soup and dinner of cauliflower steaks with sautéed brussel sprouts and turkey bacon, as a nonsequitor, and what’s more I want to make a hummus and sort of tabbouleh to eat on the weekend, as I stretch out the shopping with an eye on limiting my interaction with others. Over lunch it is revealed we have a plethora of anti-itch items to choose from. Oh, goody, goody. Still no word back from the agent. This is stream o’ consciousness today, aint it? I wonder why there is no way to send direct messages on Insta on laptop. This is among life’s important questions. I don’t need to go anywhere. The INFJ in me is secretly thrilled with the isolation. I have amazing people in my life who are the same, including S. I’m really not sick of her yet even in this lockdown—I suppose that’s a good sign, right?

Well, I’ll soon be lacing in work on the festival—I actually think I can pull it off. But I feel that way about most things. Look, I don’t know what it is I’m so afraid of. Pain I suppose. Especially that of regret and self-recrimination. I guess I had to go through some Dada today, writing this, to get to any kind of flow. I remember the year I spent catching up to this daily Blague after letting it go for something like six months—I should know how long, but I seriously don’t remember, exactly. This is also a good thing; it means I wasn’t focused on the severity of the task but just got on with the catch-up work. There is now a forced end to all excess, and that is also, on a level, quite appealing. And you get to do a full thirty days of yoga again tomorrow, taking matters all the more into our own hands. Levity is leverage. That is something I said. It is probably applicable to the Libra experience. We need to boss around the twenty-four characters. It was my perseverance that made this project happen. When everybody else was ready to quit I pushed on. I am using this time, when the excesses are so drastically curtailed, to teach myself the things I need to know. So today is still something of a slog, so what. First of all it isn’t, really. I am a pro and having a number of things in process in a given day, although the fewer the things the healthier. I would include in this list the rather gourmet crankings outta the kitchen. It’s fun to use some sniglet energy. I will be writing the snapshot of emotion plus amping the tough love and bossing around. It’s going to be a fun book to write I think. I am gearing up to put some correspondence out there. I really am almost finished with some big projects. Because once I start things I tend to finish. The Bojack episode where Diane is writing her memoir is pretty damn accurate. The sober Bojack is thinner and sports gray hair. I think that’s fine. Storytelling not hair.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 131-135.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

nothing to insert from the past Blagues today!

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

Aries 26° (April 15)

Wow I was further along than I thought I was. That is to say that I am preparing, here, to wake up today with nothing hanging over my head but a need to shave and a late-afternoon appointment. Otherwise I am here to write on a certain subject and I do think that I have found my way in, finally, spiritually (that is to say to understand, in my mind, the essence of what I’m doing so that it is activated in purpose, through which my creativity can flow—you know, the life of an artist?), Writing is my skill.I will make what I’m doing a loving tribute. It must be in praise of. I will text back Nan and Kip. One down one to go. Back and forth with Dave, don’t know when he’ll come to Cape again. I won’t want the entire crew. Last night I made stuffed clams and a spring mix salad with chive and tarragon. My body is feeling tight and in need of yoga. We had such an amazing walk on the beach yesterday. Today we watched some Bojack over breakfast and then I prepped the week’s menu and continued my way through getting next year’s ebooks into works. We had a lovely lunch of turkey, provolone and avocado sandwiches. Seriously my wrists are aching and I don’t know why. And then dinner was salmon with rutabaga and garlicky kale. We watched a Cowsills documentary and I fell asleep rather early.

 You might wonder how it is I can write more after ending the evening and falling asleep. That will have to remain a mystery you can easily figure out. I’m still dealing with an incredibly itchy sitchy and have to figure out a way to heal it. I do feel as if I’m zeroing in on a future here and today it became very real in the sense that we received a deal memo for the book, which brought up a number of questions. I’m not really clear on why it is in this day and age that an author would have to supply artwork but there you go. I’m kind of okay with it only because it would mean some work for some artists with whom we are already working. I will continue to persevere on all fronts. Anyway I am managing to move the needle in a real way. And we are watching the coffers fill back up a bit, which is truly a boon in these weird times. I have also been contacted by people from the Tennessee Wiliams Festival who are trying to organize themselves in some kind of solidarity effort. I’m not really clear on the entire thrust of it but I’m keeping my hat in the ring of whatever kind of leadership they might need on that score. I was surprised not to receive any thanks for the donations I have made here locally, but (obviously) I don’t do these sorts of things for any kind of credit. Still, I know that, if and when someone donates to my causes, I immediately send a thank-you note, as it is just good form. Anyway, I have a clear idea now where I am (and need be) in my process.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 126-130.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

When I was a wee child we had something called the generation gap. It mirrored the racial gap and the gender gap and the gap of sexual identity. Now we delude ourselves we don’t have one. At that same time when I was a child we had a thriving middle class. We didn’t know then it was an anomaly, we thought it was a mainstay. Now we have a culture gap, a great divide created by the love of money that has seen most people on the have shore having been born there with a silver spoon handed down for centuries or those willing to sacrifice every human shred of empathy in order to simply claw at that shore. And then there is the other side, the ironical have-nots whom, I believe, have already inherited that proverbial kingdom, access to which is like the eye of a needle. Everything goes in the end; so those of us who willingly eschew the trappings of materiality for just enough and then some to live another day focused on giving have the easiest passage through life as those hills of time come rolling in. It is we who gain the sense of true abundance because we are closest to it. I know many very rich people. I would venture to say that I live just as well if not better than they do; and I’m constantly being shown the truly generous essential nature of life and the cosmos which never ceases to provide.

Think of the impermanence of what society seeks to impress upon your consciousness as important to achieve and hold onto, neither of which is actually possible. Want what you have and nothing more. It’s what we tell our clients and readers constantly. It sounds so easy but it’s so difficult to remember and put into actual practice. We immediately think “but what if…”…what if what? You’ll get sick? You will. You’ll die? You will. All of the physical world is impermanence; any advanced placement twelfth-grade English teacher would have had you explore that theme. Keats and Yeats. We know all this intellectually. But can we live the perspective the hills of time represent. Can we function and operate in the presence, act in it, with the ultimate panoramic view of life eternal? You can get back to me on that.

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

Aries 25° (April 14)

The list grows in both directions. There is so much that needs to be done and so much that gets continually checked off the list. I will read another five days of Blagues past (I’m doing this every day during this, my sixth year, to get a handle on and catalogue my content my first five years of content to date). It is first thing in the morning and the farmer is already here about to bang away. I will let him do that. He will probably disrupt me with his radio but I will have to ignore that as well. My body is itching and ravaged. I miss, now, the bond I never had and never will. There is an opportunity to create, to use the time effectively, to make art and magic. To go through every nook and cranny; and again I need to guard my lungs against situations that might trigger allergies in the extreme. This might include going through the attic and basement—this is not metaphor—clearing out and cleaning up. I hear a car ignition. I feel the pull toward practical responsibility, and yet I want to stay here, as if in a dream, but it is already fading as I write this. That’s okay. Reading a book shouldn’t feel like an item on my list of chores. It should be what it is. Television is the real culprit, the time waster, but it is the perfect salve and perhaps ones only anesthetic salvation that remains. This is day two of no wine entering my system, which will be an embargo in place for at least the next thirty days. I pray for a miracle not that we can be friends again but that I have learned my lesson on how to choose loving friends who are right for me. That is my main objective at this juncture, really. I shall make each day of every coming day count for something. Smell the roses and blow out the candle. This is good advice. While all the wisdom I need I get from the “Soundscapes” Music Choice channel. Feel the sarcasm.

I don’t know what will happen. Everything, eventually (is one of our mottos). I would like to dip my body in the ocean today, I mean it. Let us print out the tide chart and let the walks begin. Daily constitutionals. There are indeed enough hours in a day and we needn’t try to rush through any of them. I keep telling myself to go deeper into myself. Let this time be worth it and productive. People are dying and you awake with other unrelated afflictions for which you should be grateful. Everything will shake out. The worst of this was never meant to happen. We can now say the fuckwad in chief is a murderer right? Okay I need to get my shit together and my ass in gear. This is going to be a busy day and I have an hour to get all my little bits and bobs accomplished. What is the feeling that I am feeling? I don’t quite recognize it anymore. I do know that there is an entire ociean beach waiting for me to walk on today and I’m going to enjoy the absolute fuck out of walking and breathing deeply. I am now in the zone and there can be no stopping me. I do want to cancel all my subscriptions. I do want to make the world as I knew it go away. It wasn’t that great anyway. I can’t believe people have to die for us to understand what is important and real. I still can’t bring myself to watch the news. I’m still not over the Challenger exploiding let alone 911 or the past twenty years of pain and drama. Part of me would love to buy a house in Maine and slowly move my crap there. I don’t know I have to get stronger and clearer. We are no longer trying to figure out ways to extricate ourselves from weird relationships. I do get to Instagram today. And hopefully there will be an outdoor shower in my very near future. Given the amount of text below I’m afraid this is going to have to be enough for today. I know it wasn’t poetic or in anyway transcendent but I have to leave it there.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 121-125.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

I’m not good in crowds. I naturally stay on the periphery at parties, quickly dipping in and out, making a “French exit”; and I’m terrible with tight groups or cliques, their collective energy being overwhelming, and, mostly, negatively so. At times, my need to avoid certain people or groups of them has overriden my affection for individuals and I’ve had to sacrifice relationships to save myself from the effects of such negativism.

Recently, as often happens, I was gathering together a group of people, some of them close friends, for an occasion where the focus was on showcasing the one person’s talent. Others, one character in particular, who is used to being showered with attention bordering on worship, entered into the scene with an attitude and behavior they have exhibited before: attempting to set themself apart from the rest, taking an exalted position, instead of just participating in the same way all the rest of us were. Apparently just being one of the crowd wasn’t good enough for them. I’m taking license here using the third person plural.

Immediately I felt infected by this person’s vibe and it infiltrated my being. It’s near impossible for me to shake, which I’m loath to admit—I wish I had a better filter. For the same reason, I seem to get lost sometimes, even here in this blog, in what seems to be complaining about society at large. I just don’t understand why it is we live in such a selfish world, everyone driven by greed. Greed for money and greed for attention; I’m not even sure which is which. Self-reliance is a wonderful thing. Self-serving-ness feels, yes, like a disease. And I think most people give in to it, probably, initially, as a means of combatting it. It’s sad to me. And I hate when I fall into it, myself, which I sometimes do in my own attempt to get some sugar, an exclusive diet of which so many around me seem to live on. The irony is that those most in need of worship tend to give off what seems to be charismatic air, drawing others in, when in fact it’s not charisma, it’s narcissistic need.

When narcissists aren’t given the bulk of the air, they will suck the oxygen more and more out of the room. And they will often do so by telegraphing to the rest of us that they are doing you some kind of favor just by being there. You know what, don’t do me any favors. Why not just sit and listen for a change. Take in what others are saying. Just this past year I sat and wrote out a list of people I call friends; and then I aimed to put a check next to the names of those whom I thought were good listeners and truly interested in what was going on in my life. There weren’t many checks. I realized—holy merde—that most people I had listed had the same metaphoric mumps: it was always all about them: If I met them for dinner or at an event, I was mainly in for a running monologue consisting of self-aggrandizing events and anecdotes and posturing and it terrified me at first. People are supposed to have friends, right? Everyone else seems to like these people. In fact many people worship them. That was the problem. I’m the problem. I don’t worship anyone. I’m incapable of being the person that carries your purse. I will only do that for one person in my life and you can probably guess who. And she isn’t someone who seeks worship and she’s the best listener on the planet.

So I’ve made a conscious effort to ghost, quietly removing myself from relationships and, guess what, most people, the check-less from my list, scarcely noticed. People with metaphorical mumps will easily and quickly replace you with a willing devotee. This symbol is ruled by Taurus in a twelve-fold sequence and it does speak to the shadow side of that sign. The sign is fixed-earth and it is akin to a garden or a flower, and the main archetypes are the nymphs and flower gods like Adonis, Hyacinth and Narcissus for whom the -ism is named. The energy of Taurus is subjective and there can be an obsession with self and the image in the mirror—how we are seen by others and what worship we can amass. This also speaks to the choice of mumps, being a child disease. Taurus rules the ages 7-14, the age of innocence leading to certain temptation. The mumps affect the glands in the throat and neck, the body part ruled by Taurus. And, secondarily, it affects the sex glands. The female nymphs and the male flower gods are innocents who, like flowers, attract attention and then certain seduction.

———————

Stop wasting your precious time on this planet trying to look young in this life time. Do what you can for your immortally youthful soul, and that of the collective spirit of this world within worlds. See the big picture. See over the expanse of Time. See all eternity now in an instant. And just be a good person. Nobody cares how many invites you have or followers on Facebook or pairs of shoes you possess. Possessions are so last millenium. Make a change. Contribute your money. And if you aint got none, then contribute your time. Make sacrifices. Gravitate toward the good and the lasting and ditch lousy people, places and things. Especially the faux self-helpers; oh lord, Mary, they’re the worst.

Over the past few days we’ve seen symbols about trying to stay young and self-aggrandize. I kind of love that these are happening in the sign of Leo and, in a double-whammy, today’s symbol is ruled by Leo in a twelve-fold system. We are dealing with the negativity of that sign’s energy: Pride and tyrrany. And, life being the greatest symbol of them all, we have collectively, as a world (thanks to the good that social media can do) we have seen the sacrifice of an actual lion whose death will have been for naught UNLESS you take to heart the lessons of this sainted creature: Worldly achievement is not only ephemeral it is often the cause of great evil. Let’s eternally wipe out all that stands for. Let’s have our efforts be as clearly defined in the future as those towering cliffs are over that deep canyon. We are the carvers of reality and Time is of the essence.

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

Aries 24° (April 13)

Ok so yesterday was a boring odyssey and I awake today at ten minutes to four. There is no point trying to fall back to sleep. I’m in a kind of crisis mode and I have a huge day ahead of me the schedule of which I immediately plan to reconstruct. I’m trying to fall back, still, when the alarm goes off at six. I have been watching repeats of the weekend news. It is not going to be a good look this day. I think of what I can achieve that requires little brain activity. I will have breakfast and watch a funny show on Netflix and then I will cook and plan the meals for the coming week. I will go to the dump and dump what I can, since they are not really accepting recyclables. I will go to the bank and get a handle on my personal finances. I will clean the house and do the laundry and get my hygiene where it needs to be. I will do some correspondence. I will plow through many papers stacking up on my desk. I will think about what I want to achieve creatively and when. I will drink to much coffee to stay awake. I will watch Governor Cuomo talk with other governors and create a united front meant to preempt the menace in the casa blanca. I will suddenly want to watch Casablanca, along with Dinner at Eight which I’ve never seen. I will hear from the lawyer whose correspondence implies that the other parties would like to try and settle if possible. That will make me happy but, as I’ve waited five years thus far already, I don’t really care about giving them very much lee-way. I made a roasted red pepper soup for dinner tonight and I will prepare an arugula salad with palm hearts and tomato and parmesan and serve it with slicked chicken breast, glazed with some de-fatted drippings. I will get my brain around the enormity of all that needs doing and feel in some ways relieved to be inside as a huge storm heads our way. The power company will text and warn us that we will lose power which I don’t doubt we will. I need to now charge my devices.

S. reminds me that we have a freezer filled with food which is our back up supply so if we lose power we will have to eat things as they thaw but, no, because our stove is electric. Today there is this thing going around on FB which is post your senior picture in solidarity of seniors. I couldn’t be asked to find my yearbook and yet one of the more popular girls in school offered to find mine for me, after I posted that I wouldn’t be posting one. Now I will have to post one? This is an inane edition of this Blague I realize. I actually wrote yesterday’s today as well…and now it’s tomorrow as pick up where I left off. There is quite a bit of copy waiting for me, from the previous years, for me to post over. And still I feel compelled to say so much more. Why this frustration and constant angst. Why this gnawing at my soul. Why this feeling I want to cry somewhere in the back of my chest. They say that allergy sufferers could be harder hit and that breathing exercises are key. This is why smoking is so bad, besides being carcinogenic, it does the opposite of exercising your lungs. I need to make sure that beginning in the next few days I resume my daily practice of deep breathing and meditation. I will put together some lunch and some dinner as always. I will shower and wash my clothes. I will get myself upstairs and at least map everything out for this next project without overthinking. My only goal today is to be bad. I wish I had more friendship in my life; something I’m realizing now, at a time when it is near impossible to initiate, but I suppose I could foster it and polish the connections I do have. I should be writing some kind of newsletter. Then again, no. I hate receiving newsletters from people because they are phony. Especially now when they offer help to people. That’s a sham. I see through that b.s.. They still just want me to download their music or watch their at-home performance, or some such fuckery.

Perhaps it will be warm enough today to go for a walk. That might be the one thing we can and should do. I will ask and see if this is something we can affect. I want to hurt. I want to feel the pain of my past bad decisions. I want to be plunged deeper to the roots, to root around in my conscience. I want to make a clean break, like going off to college, to be suffused with the prospect of not knowing, unafraid to leave the past, with all its good intact, behind. I want to feel the exhilaration of being separated from loved ones, no longer here, but in dreams before I realize they are not still alive and I awake crying out the fact. I don’t need to have a structure, to follow a form. I want to be cast out into the wilderness with all my psychological patterns that will insure I repeat the same mistakes over and over again. I want to be reviled, to be treated like a pariah and to finally not care about fitting in, footing the emotional bill. If you reject me I want to thank you. Thank you very much for not allowing me to conform to your criteria. Thank you for not using me as a crutch to keep yourself from falling into challenges that might be a sign of personal evolution. I want a new catalogue. I want to feel alone again, naked, on the beach, exposed. I want to be more skin and bone and live off the accumulated fat of my bloated need. I don’t want to give to you, and I don’t need your applause. I’ve had it and it was never enough and it never will be. There are a select few of you, here and there, who get me. And you are not the ones, typically, occupying the space of labels—the best or oldest or closest. Some of you have never seen but you look right through me. And I no longer take it personally because I’ve seen how you have, over the decades, had that same perspective on your own children. Nobody, not even those you were meant to love without condition, are free from your vague withholding. You offer anecdotes and aphorisms to your own flesh and blood so what should I expect.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 116-120.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

We recently watched an old Greer Garson film, Mrs. Parkington, which is amazing on many levels. The writing is fantastic. And the theme hits you right in that yankee spot in the center of your being–even if you’re not an American you probably know what I’m talking about. In it the self-made individual is to be celebrated, while the lazy inheritor is a lout. In my experience, of the big silver screen, I find this largely to be true.

What better way to celebrate your wealth than in the exercise and development of your mind. I suppose, if ever I was jealous of peers who grew up with a trust fund, it was because of the grace of time and space it could afford to focus, with fewer obstacles, on what was most important in life. Surely, I would have stayed in school as long as possible instead of slinging hash to make ends meet; and I would have used all that free time, as a younger person certainly, to devote to my first and greatest love: the Theatre. I am very fortunate that I’ve managed, coming from very humble beginnings, to carve out a life where I work for myself, living by my wits, and, well, as you can see I, or in case you didn’t know, I do spend a lot of time exploring ideas and notions that expand my conscious mind—not to mention underaking certain endeavors that give other parts of my brain a bit of a psychic workout; and I’m never very far from at least producing for some stage or other.

I am perfectly aware of the paradox: because I’ve had to make my own way—Major and Mrs. Parkington would have liked that—I can say that I would have used my time to devote to my callings would I have been bankrolled; but really, if funded as such, I might have been the biggest slacker on the planet, going, as Joni put it, from cafe to cabaret. Ah but that was a song about freedom. And David Geffen. I’d like to meet David Geffen. I’m friends with him on Facebook and I think he’d dig what I am trying to do in the arts, but I’ve gotten off the subject. If you see David just tell him to call me. He seems to be someone who might have sunk a bunch of dough into creating a fabulous personal library where his guests could hang out and just read. I read two chapters of two different books last week. That’s the last time I had a moment to read. Well, I suppose I could make time, but this time of year is so much about doing the next most pressing thing. In precisely eight weeks, my labor of love, the Afterglow Festival, will take to the stage in Provincetown. It’s a lot of work, which I don’t mind doing. So long as people like and support it, which can be an uphill battle. I often wonder why it is that, I of the no trust fund and minimal material trapping, spend so much time not making money. I think the answer is that it seemed like an if-then equation. If I have money, then I’ll do what I want. If I have money, I’ll live by the sea. If I have money, I’ll travel. If I have money, I’ll buy art. Well, I think I’m the sort who goes directly for the then. I would build the library first. I do have a butt load of books. I just need to read more of them.

————————————–

Funny that the sons and daughters of any revolution always want the buck to stop there; they don’t want any more upheaval coming up behind them; they want to be the last stop, the new and final crème de la crème. But we needn’t speak of descendants of Mayflower voyagers vis a vis immigrant waves to understand the resonance of this.

I was just encountering something similar this morning while casting my cynical gaze upon the social landscape near at hand. Here I am, downtown New York; and when I first moved here the scene below 14th street had a sort of benign contempt for the paparazzi-driven society centered around Park Avenue. And now, our own sons and daughters of these downtown revolutionaries seem to emulate the likes of Nan Kempner and C.Z. Guest, never mind Pat and Bill Buckley. Of course the selfie-ish amongst us are now their own paparazzi for the most part. Look I’m all for self invention, but just as that daughter of the revolution might remember that her ancestor rallied against an oppressive monarchy, the artist barely surviving in their rent unstablized walk-up might recall that s/he descends from a long line of dissidents who actually created the world in which they’ve managed to thrive. We aren’t supposed to turn into some artistic aristocracy; we aren’t meant to art direct our personas to appear to belong to some sort of elite, and especially not for public consumption.

But look, this is the pattern of things. And people do tend toward the creamy and want to forget their own humble orgins, breathing more rarified air standing on the shoulders of those who came before. I suppose I’m still rather unsinkable Molly Brown about it all, preferring to preserve my own personality and allow it to change society via any power or influence gained over the course of my journey from my scrappy origins, instead of adopting the attitude and characteristics of some fabulous existing society which might now, at this point in my illustrious (as if) career, accept me. The ancestor of that daughter rebelled against the fox hunters and polo players while she and her brood would have become them. I don’t believe we need to lose our revolutionary spirit no matter how high we might rise, worldly wise. In this battle between retreating into the past and forging ahead into the future, it would seem that the past wins out.

Pisces, which rules this oracle in a twelve-fold sequence, is ruled by Neptune, the power of dissolution. So we see the dissolve of all our forward moving efforts and we thus reveal the importance of the past. However, in the dissolve, some residue remains, and this film cannot be removed. Pisces, mutable-water, is likened to mist, foam, vapor, film and any such slime, the primordial kind especially, that from which we emerged and to which we will ultimately return, each subsequent generation, whether of people or of thought or ideology (indeed everything), adding its layer of influence to that which came before. So try as you might to completely blend in, you can’t help but change the mix even ever so slightly. Some strive to leave as think and creamy a layer, distinguished from the past fossilized layers, as they possibly can.

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

 Aries 23° (April 12)

I really hope today is a more productive day than yesterday was. I productinated of course (a word I created for when you procrastinate productively). Today I must be a bit Dada so I’m going to type in all the words in some kind of linear fashion from a stack of random pieces of paper I have with various words jotted down upon them. But before I do that I have to say that today was very strange as reflected in the title of today’s Blague entry. Talk about your cosmic jokes. Here I am in lockdown, having not been around people for a month, and yet somehow along the way, in my travels, some weird and thankfully harmless little buggies got folded into the mix. You are isolating afraid of a larger contagion and still the Universe has its joke on you. Anyway it was just one of those days where I finally said fuck it and threw up my hands and I’m now telling everyone that I am delayed and I am going to do less and be more. I just got so wistful thinking about our trip to Venice. The world is extra quiet this Easter. I keep forgetting it is Easter, not that it has ever been my favorite holiday. If anything it reminds me of having to wear short paints and knee socks when it was way too cold out to do so. I have bites all over my torso and they are super itchy, and more so than the aforementioned knee socks which were always scratchy wool. I remember one Easter outfit in particular. It was a bottle green cotton velvet shorts and blazer set with a paler green (mint?) short sleeved shirt with peter pan collar (my mother insisted that should be a signature look of mine); the shorts might have been a jumper, in the American sense, otherwise it would have for sure had suspenders attached.

Thinking about numbers and how, when I play with them, I always come up with a repeating 6.6666. This is something which occurred originally in the nineties when I was alone for eight days and nights and was going to write a story about it. There was magic in the air and I did write a lot but I didn’t write everything and I still haven’t. I can imagine, what with the settlement, getting to a much higher number for myself which would be the start of something significant; and now that there is a book deal who knows what we might want to affect for ourselves. I have to keep looking back at what I put together on April 10, because the seeds were sown on that day for making some major inroads. I am going to pivot here and see if I can get some of these random pieces of paper typed in here. Questions for Meg include, of course after waiting to see what the contract itself says, but I’m curious about royalties on foreign and if her person doesn’t want to do anything, who, then would want to take up Sextrology. I still cannot believe that Anna has not gotten in touch with us, after we took her out for a meal; it really is most incredible. I will get to thinking about some of the other dynasty moves, but I know that I have things pretty well in hand. I just have to make a realistic schedule and get some work done on the jewelry side of things. I do believe I got all the answers I needed from Brad. I still can’t get that email sign off to work for some reason, which is super frustrating. I did respond to a latest email from my lawyer which revealed how stupid some people can be. I have to wait until May first before I can sign up with this new doctor, which is fine. I did print out what I needed for the branding project and set up the yoga room and I did manage also to go through all my receipts. I haven’t recorded them all but I do often amaze myself at the amount I accomplish in short periods of time.

My old friend (with whom I made my Broadway debut) Danny Burstein wrote what ended up as a piece in the Hollywood Reporter on having the coronavirus. Before I aay how harrowing his account was I just want to slip in the fact that I forget what I huge fucking Broadway star he is. Sometimes that kind of success happens to the absolutely right person. I need to run through the podcast info somebody at (my? new?) management company sent over. Be right back. So I read it and it is really way more complicated than what we would put together. I will put it on my to-do list however. It is a good thing we didn’t front-load even business, though we will find a clever way to make something like that happen. At least for now, there would be no launch event for the collection either. I don’t know how long this lockdown will last. I don’t know if I should even bother ordering wood. Surprised that I haven’t heard back from a certain artist I’d written to twice. Other than that there is so much running through my mind. I want very much to feel integral to the projects, especially in regard to social media, but there being only so many hours in a day and not wanting to spend my whole life working (especially sitting here on this thing); that is why being in Paris was so useful as well as enjoyable; the obvious pleasures aside, I did go to French class and I did write some creative things and still kept the business going. But I got to go outside everyday and maybe I just need to admit to myself that I’m more active in a city than I am in the country. Although, ideally, I will continue to have both. I am so happy I no longer live in New York City, though; it has become one of my least favorite towns. It’s different for people I know with fancy apartments and the knd of jobs that have required selling their souls. I still have not gotten over certain hurts by certain people. (But I’m happy to be laying low). And I’m not Danny Burstein who has the talent and the beauty and the deserved good fortune of walking down the road to work in a Broadway theater. It could not have happened to a nicer guy, that life. I hope that the world endeavors to allow people to continue on as such.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 116-120.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

I am in an admittedly cynical mood. I try not to have such a dim view of my fellow humans; but everyone seems to be fetishizing themselves to such a great degree. One thinks because she’s a downtown artist or he a counterculture poet that s/he is impervious to the sweeping, insidious trappings of this reality-show world wherein one must be fame-ish. Not everyone can stand center stage and perform an aria to perfection. There was a time when not everybody wanted all eyes on them. At this point, I don’t know anybody who is a pure spectator, audience plain and simple.

We have shorter and shorter attention spans, while, at the same time, we expect others to pay more and more attention to us. It was once enough to create in private, if not in isolation. Forget the solo spiritual trip of an artist such as, say, a Salinger; that just wouldn’t fly nowadays. To be fair, in this financially polarized world, who could afford to have a genuine experience as an artist. Accolades, in so much as they translate into cold hard cash, are now necessary evils I suppose. We must court praise in so much as it affords us an ability to express our artistry—unless, that is, we provide an actual service. Audiences are by nature fickle. The mid-career artist has to reinvent. The diva’s talent will fade; one can only hope she socked some assets away somewhere.

Even our minds, which can be the last hold-out of talent, may fail us; and we no longer live in a world we one can retreat to some small cottage upstate or down the coast. Everything has been bought and sold. And when it comes to talent, our standards may have slipped. By the same token, we live in a world of created talent, not of the naturally occuring and emerging. Those who were stars fifty to seventy five years ago were predominantly those who emerged dripping with natural ability, with the off created star or starlet. Now we test would-be stars appeal and market them as we would any product. Because someone can sing, we cast them in lived televised musicals even though they can’t act. Because someone sells records they get clothing lines to market as well. This is predominantly an Anglo-American phenomenon, but it spreads like a disease.

One should express themselves for the joy of doing so, without expectation of being worshipped ubiquitously. You want to sing a song then sing a song. You want to design clothes then design clothes. If you want to do what you say you truly want to do then you’ll do it. But would you do it if you weren’t guaranteed an audience? Would you do it for the love of it or as a devotion or an offering, the expression being reward in itself? There are far more gifted people expressing their talents in obscurity everywhere then the same handful of talents being shoved down our throats in multiple media. Can you be happy without anybody looking? Or do you only truly exist when others are watching?

———————-

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

Aries 22° (April 11)

I am today for three days working around the clock on my branding project. It is all I want to do and it is all I have to do. Yesterday I sepnt a good amount of time sorting out all the materials I needed to really tackle the project. I spent forty-five minutes putting all the elements together and basically giving them a little order–starter kit if you will—and then I organized my office and my desktop. I made a delicious dinner of roasted chicken and bok choy with jasmin rice verde. I have a stack of receipts to get through but I don’t think it will happen today. And I have to defer closure on certain things if I’m to make any headway at all. The mother’s little helper of yesterday has left me feeling foggy so I will not be repeating that any time soon I can tell you. I have some things to write today and I will focus on them, first and foremost. The farmer got here early and begain blaring his goddam radio. It was all I could do not to have a fit. I cannot wait for the outdoor shower to be turned on. It is amazing that I even keep any of this going in any case during this time. I keep reaching out to people but don’t often hear back. I don’t understand why Bernie people need time to mourn while no other supporter of other candidates got that same dispensation. If he would have won enough primaries and delegates he would be the winner. I don’t know why I can’t make my brain work. Maybe I should give up trying and do something else today and then get up at the crack of dawn and do what I gotta do. I am definitely planning on making this project a thing of beauty, and I know I have the power and wherewithal to make that happen. I truly can’t wait to get outside and to exercise again. My body is in need of some sunlight and sea air. It sucks to procrastinate and have writers block. It is not something I want to cope with today especially. I will try and move things along a bit.

X is the creative offspring of company founder and designer YY, a leading voice in fashion, with many successes to her credit. Lee understands what women want and need from their wardrobe; and her industry experience, refined esthetic and artisanal expertise combine to create a clever and beautiful collection of clothing that liberates, motivates and celebrates the wearer. Just as true craftsmanship goes into each individual piece of J. X, ingenuity abounds, too, in the overall creative concept of the collection: To provide the customer a highly functional selection of clothing and accessory styles, as beautiful as they are wearable, that will breeze them through the day into night, from work to play, and to far off places across international date lines.

X is a cohesive collection of items, all of which have an extraordinary stand-out quality. Each piece in the collection is designed to be a cherished staple of ones wardrobe, to be a go-to, signature article of clothing a woman wears often and over many years. J. X is a collection through which the wearer can express her own style and make a bold statement: She values a modern design, with an subtly dramatic flair; she appreciates an ease that’s fused with elegance, and she prizes freedom and movement, in both the functional feel and fluidity of a garment, and the sheer motivation she experiences wearing the collection.

As a high-profile figure, in a fast-paced, appearance-driven industry, Jimin Lee understands firsthand the need to be on the go, and to look good doing so. Designing X to travel well is also top of mind for Lee, who like most women, are forever trading one mode of transportation for another, whether on the town or internationally bound. And the fact that J.X gets the balance right between X and Y, Y and Z, the clothing collection transports a woman from one setting to another, allowing her to sartorially slip into one role or another, easing her seamless transformations.   Movement is important to the

Something about: care being put into every decision that she has created a world where she’s done all the thinking for the customer. That each piece is carefully conceived and fulfills a woman’s sartorial need. It’s the same for the collaborators.

My brain is really dead. S. says she is seeing many people on social media talking about an inability to articulate….that’s me today. I might as well try to do something else with the rest of my day….

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 111-115.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

Okay so there is nothing from those Blagues to post here. They are all super astro-Sabian.

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

Aries 21° (April 10)

Okay so the plan for today is to get up and clean and garde manger until around nine or ten. Then I’m going to print everything out that I need regarding the branding project and cut and paste them into some kind of order. I might even paste some of that in here just so that I get a little bit of flow going. Then what I think I might do is go through my bag of receipts and at least put them in piles to file. And otherwise do the big Friday cleaning. Then Saturday and Sunday are going to be all about writing content and if I need Monday as well I will have that. But I’m in full yoga mode come Monday in any case. Needing to come up with search thoughts—thinking could reach out to strangers that are putting up ads, telling them who you are and what you do. That is if the whole thing isn’t waived anyway. Also need to put everybody onto Mad Mimi and go about things that way, getting out messenging. Need to reach out to people one at a time. I am almost finished with the branding project and then the books for 2021. And it will be not even four months into the new year. The following is going to be fodder for more fleshed out ideas later, once I’ve given them their own individualist flow. At this point I need to slow down not the opposite. I took a tiny toke and instead of relaxing me it did the opposite—I think being/feeling in captivity, I got that much more paranoid, claustrophobic, et al—so I took a calming medicine and that fixed me and gave me some room between my ideas and myself. Captive Audience presents…

It started with the notion of making art en route to throwing out things from the office and basement, that we would make art en route to the dump. Transformation Station. Indeed I’d like to make gods out of everything sculptural. We can film me in the process of doing it or we can film it as an opening gallery night. I need to order an amazing apron. Do stations of these gods like as there might be in a classical setting. And then it all goes to the dump. Could make a great story.

I also like the storytelling idea, like what Dixon Place as put into place. Afterglow could do something similar to this and set up a virtual experience. The Glow Fest is already moveable. So creatively the idea would be to host various artists and pay them a straight fee and (The idea would be to make this part of the pitch/plea about what we are doing in this new world order. That whole thing to Sponsors needs to be fleshed out but I want to jot down while it’s on my mind that we could generate interest for Ptown businesses. If people don’t come to Ptown, we will take Ptown to the people. And Afterglow will work to activate its concierge section and create a virtual marketplace, maybe it’s based on a map, where you can shop online via businesses websites. In the please we would be telling people we are doing more not less, having had our shows moved until next year, we are exploring ways to do the Glow (a Moveable Festival) as a virtual enterprise.

This is in no certain order. Working on French classes and on songs and shows to perform ourselves. Maybe even the Starsky + Cox shows should we not have the usual venues like Joe’s Pub. It is a boon that Afterglow doesn’t really have a large overhead. Anyway the basement can be quite easily converted to a theater space—a flood of ideas go through my mind on this score. Doing original material, doing whole original shows, doing traditional productions of The Chairs and Tru and The Typists. I may need to contact Ed Morehouse. Have hi be a consulting director. The salon office can be where all the shipping happens. We should probably move the mailbox to Wellfleet in the coming months. If not talk to Jim about having one at front. From this point my hand written notes go in separate directions, so again I will just type what I see and I can reorganize it later. Newsletter from Afterglow. Not what we’ve been doing or done but what we plan to do for the artists. Pay them for gigs to they can perform and get paid and not have to travel or collect them any themselves. Afterglow too needs to have a shop on its website where you can buy donated items in our virtual thrift store.

There was also the idea of performance pieces of say, vacuuming where all these ideas come to mind with a narration as I act it. Showing the creative process and how things can be three-sixty, thinking what am I going to do with those egg yolks in the fridge and later realizing I can make kale Ceasar. Also the amassing together of a virtual theatrical production team.

News Items: Newsletter from Starsky and Cox would just be headlines with click spots to the fuller story on the website.News Items include New book, Consultancy milestones and changes or offers, that Book 2 was optioned, working on a TV pilot , some tithing news, recent press and old press. Can our Instagram enjoy a gallery set up on our website? Thinking about what else the website could use: I would love to get a little shop going, say, of out of print books? Shop. Books and Objects. Kind of Bedknobs and Broomsticks. Stationers? Work for Mark Have Mark do Afterglow/Glow website “moveable” can be both live and virtual appearances.

Write more philosophically about the fixed, mutable and cardinal signs, itself and then add more to the argument. The mechanics, workings of the zodiac could be its own thing. (And we would save all this for the introduction.” This would lead to the podcast work. I just can’t be that linear right now for some reason.

Need to rewrite the biz plan and probs do so before book work begins or put aside a day per week/ten days each for basement clear out and biz plan rejig. (using the Virgo woman time, giving it a span of two weeks? Also talk to Mark about this project.

Then there is the whole Art School idea. All barter. You accept students whose classes you want to take; so if you take three classes you must attract three students. They don’t have to be those who are teaching those classes, ultimately. But at the start it would have to follow.

The irony now is that after writing all this, thinking of ways to outreach for any reports we might need to fill out for the state, there is no longer a requirement to do so, so long as one is staying in touch with their employer. But the notion was to put out pleas for work along the same lines as I’m doing now for branding for fashion business. This will now not be necessary. But it is good to keep in the back pocket.

Backgammon.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 106-110.  I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:

Okay so there is nothing from those Blagues to post here. They are all super astro-Sabian.

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