Gemini 9° (May 28)

I woke up thinking about a friend called Molly. I wasn’t dreaming about her, but she was one of my first emerging thoughts. I was dreaming about two two five, where I used to live. And like in all recurring dreams in this locale, we have long since not lived there, but we nonetheless still have keys and we sneak in (I guess) and continue to live on, keeping a minimum of furniture and or belongings which, if they were to be confiscated, wouldn’t impact us at all. We were having a gathering in the apartment, and I had this friend, an African American fellow, with whom I had just hung out, and I think I left some belongings (my coats come to mind) at his place. It was a very confused affair and it makes sense because there was trauma surrounding leaving that apartment and about leaving New York all together; and it was a very challenging time for us in any case, so much going around. I think when I have these dreams I am feel vulnerable and in a place where I feel something is being or going to be taken away from me. We had this chat I mentioned yesterday with our agent to go over contract points and she brought up this topic of, well, you know, we want to get this done before publishers cancel contracts, which apparently they are doing, in the face of this virus and such; and I didn’t consciously take it in or let it effect me in any sort of real way, but I think that shit went straight to my subconscious and lodged there. My sleep was fraught in any case. I feel uneasy. I think I am in this place where I have stopped the nightly drinking of wine which started in excitement on our trip to England, Scotland, Italy and France; but we’ve also (I’ve learned) just ordered cases of wine to be delivered today and I know I’m not not going to drink them. I tend to be very all or nothing. I mean, it’s not like I need to drink all the wine, but I will be challenged to let the bulk of the week go by without opening a bottle at the end of each day because we are in such a weird place and everyone is anxious and I’m not alone in my urge to anesthetize myself at times like these. That said, as I write this, I realize this will be my particular challenge. To go five weeknights this summer without opening the delicious nectar we have stored, and save myself for weekends, without white knucking it that is. Which really should be easy; because I do feel better and dream more, the less I have any kind of substance in my system. Okay, I think I sorted through that, so thanks for listening. And it is all on theme I guess.

We started watching a documentary on Sammy Davis, Jr. two nights ago and it was going a certain way and I had forgotten his sign and thought, given all the description of him, and the fact he is uneducated and has an aristocratic air and speaks out of the corner of his mouth and does impressions that maybe he’s a Pisces, but I knew that was wrong because I would have remembered it. Yesterday morning S. looked him up and said not Pisces so I guessed Sagittarius and was right—it is important to remember that before the discovery of planet Neptune, which was fairly recent (and had to be there), Pisces, like Sagittarius, was ruled by Jupiter and, both being the mutable signs of the second half of the Zodiac, they do share quite a lot. Anyway, we turned on the remainder of the documentary last night which was getting into Sammy’s latter career and it was all about his drug taking excess and experiementation and extravagance and how over the top everyone said he was. That he couldn’t walk from fifty-sixth to forty-second street without buying fifty thousand dollars worth of jewelry. And then he is filmed saying that he is super outre about all things and that he is the guy who would have two leopards on a leash walking them. Well, Dionysus, an archetype of Sagittarius, as you may know, drove a chariot pulled by two leopards. And then this morning, when we turned on the Great Greek Myth show that we’ve been watching over breakfast this past week, and got to the next episode it was about Dionysus, which they spelled Dianysos, and it was all very cosmic and synchronistic as these sorts of things go.

After breakfast I made some tabbouleh and put on some chicken stock and now I’m talking to you. We had an email about the TV project we are working on and right now the work for me, in this, is to demonstrate to the team who we are and what we are capable of, communicating our ideas readily, in the moment, and not standing on ceremony. As what we have to say is important and the boldness with which we express it is equally important and valuable. I am now going to sit outside on a lounge chair in the shade and get some work done by hand. Watch me work! Oh and then I realize we aren’t quite finished. Today was rather epic on any number of levels. I heard that the festival postponed has new dates at same venue; I rejigged schedule to make things work better time-wise and then failed to complete today’s task. As a sacrifice Taurus Woman will only be written in hour intervals from now on. Serves her right.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 336-340  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:

And still: There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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

Gemini 8° (May 27)

The world remains quiet. I have so much on my plate, now, over the course of the next several days. Of this stage of the book preparation, this is the crunchiest bit, but that’s fine. Once I get over the hump of this week I will be close to putting together the packets that I need in such a way that will make sense as I begin the writing process week after next. That’s how close this process is to beginning. It’s rather scary and I need to make sure that the team (of the two of us) knows what’s entailed. I feel like there are voices surrounding the house and I’m not really sure where they are coming from. I’ve watched the Waco series on Netflix and the only thing good about it is Taylor Kitsch who, let’s face it, is one of the hottest people on the planet. I have decided as an experiment not to watch the clock today, but for alerting myself to meal times. I have been racing against it and it makes no sense and it is counter product actually, not to mention making me not only stressed, but also I think cut off to would might be. So I’m eradicating time and staying way open. I am looking up some info on this and that and starting my how-to list. It would be great to get through the chapters I need to synopsize and also get the agenda started for Monday’s meeting, giving myself a clear shot. I will also need to go over my notes on the contract around noon today, so we can get that book-deal money. Show it to me. Right now though it is just eight thirty in the morning (I have been up three hours and have had a lovely breakfast and chats and already done some work and cleaning and got my brain around the day, pretty much anyway). So that’s the starting point here today. And, again, keeping my eye off the time machines, just want to go moment to moment here.

The day went by and now I’m back. I did manage to care less about time, but I also had meals to cook and we had impromptu meeting with agents, which hopefully moved it all along. I sense an error on the publisher’s part and I think they will surely push back—we shall see what we shall see. So here I am at the end of the day. Larry Kramer died; he was so nice and so friendly, beside all he did for the arts and for AIDS activism. I want a Franco Manca pizza right now, to change the subject wildly. Feeling suddenly very alone and cut off, it a very strange sensation, indeed. I don’t have to do anything really, rather let is all unfold. I managed to take the edge off a very tiny bit which really helped in those late afternoon slash early evening blue hours. A little something to work against. I am all set up. We had our American meal of franks and beans, well organic turkey franks and organic beans with no bun and a homemeade cherry tomato ketchup I whipped up. I’m going to try an experiment tomorrow and see if I can’t work in three-hour intervals and just put my metaphoric pencil down. Our across the street neighbors, tenants of the owner who also owns a local restaurant—the same house where they had a wild party last October where one of the residents on a drug freakout tried to break into your house, naked—has the habit of leaving their car headlights on (habitually) facing the car toward our house. I reached out to the owner and let him know and he has put me in touch with the main guy living there who works for him, this Jamaican cat who is meant to be very nice. Can’t hurt to have direct contact in any case.

Larry Kramer died and all I’m hearing are stories about how people didn’t like him and about how difficult he was. I never experienced him as such. Probably because I didn’t know him that well, I guess. Only had pleasure of meeting him on several occasions and he was always really kind of funny, caustic yes, but I didn’t find him mean or anything. I thought he was really rather laser focused on people when he interacted with them. It could just be the fact he was being polite, but he seemed genuinely interested in other people. In other news, another black man has been killed while pleading that he can’t breathe. Honestly I hope Minneapolis goes apeshit over this, because how many more times are we going to process this sort of thing without consequence. Those fucking police need to be strung up by their balls, metaphorically speaking (if not literally) and once and for all an example must be made. This douche who kneeled on George and murdered him is seen brandishing a “Law and Order” sign at a Trump rally. Need we say more. And the monster d’orange is deafeningly silent as 100,000 Americans succumb to corona virus covid-19. If we don’t manage to rid ourself of this scourge then we as a country are over. It is as simple as that. A “friend” beamed in on one of our social media feeds to take issue with, well, frankly, something S. posted and it pissed me off to no end. We are not available as repositories for people’s bile. It was on the theme of feminism and this character feels they have the last word on everything do do with this subject, which is truly galling. I pointed to the fact that this character has a certain jealous issue, especially when it comes to women, and will lash out at the most meager opportunity. Funny how people you once revealed fall so mightily in ones estimation. These are tough times and, more than ever, I’m so glad we are we: kind, self-contained and yet helpful toward others. The highlight of my week is still always working with clients, for instance. I don’t know what I would do without the consultancy. It helps me just as much as it does our clients and the work is so spiritually fueling. That’s all folks.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 331-335  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:

And still: There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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

Gemini 7° (May 26)

I want more than anything to feel relaxed today. I woke up three hours ago (it’s now just past eight thirty) and came upstairs to my office to find a return email from my childhood friend to whom I’d reached out yesterday. She and I went through grammar and high school together and stayed in touch for quite a while after, but last I had contacted was a reunion which was now nearly fifteen years ago—is it possible? Yes. She wrote to say that her husband with whom she’s been in love since early teens—he also went to junior and senior high with us—has a rare cancer and prognosis is not long to live. It was quite a shock to the system I must say. She and I, especially, were very close and I use to drive with her by his house in the middle of the night when we were juniors in high school, and she had been broken up with him. We made a pact that if she didn’t marry him that we’d get married. She was a total jock and it would be her job to teach the kids sports; I would teach them art and drama. We are like Artemis and Apollo, always having a special bond as diametrically opposed as our spirits might be. Well we are now back in touch and that is what matters. It is this morning I learn about Theseus, over breakfast, relating all of this to S. She is quite sad too. It is a reminder of how fragile life is, as if we didn’t need a reminder during this pandemic. But these things never really register unless they cut close and, despite the gulf of time and space, this cuts to the bone, which is actually a very poor choice of words in the circumstances, trust me. So here I am “late” getting to my work, but isn’t this my work? Isn’t writing this Blague every day important even though I don’t have a single reader?

I’m not looking to just fill space today. It’s just that I am procrastinating wildly because I have to say the work at hand feels terribly boring at present. I’m doing my best which, you should know, isn’t always good enough. I put these blocks up of this I am aware. I’m looking for an out. I’m looking for a lifeline. I’m wanting more than a distraction. I want to be seen and understood in a different context. I want to be happy and sing in the sunlight. I want to be young which I’m loath to admit. It’s true. That said, on most days, it’s not like I feel old or anything. And the more sleep I get and the more I keep other aspects simple in my life, I feel not just young but like a child. I know the things which no longer serve me. This quarantine-lockdown is a certain trial by fire in which we are purified, and the purification feels amazing. We give it up to the god Hephaestus. The god of fire that is the archetype of Virgo brings that Sun of the previous sign of Leo down to earth. Prometheus is his spiritual progenitor. Theseus is about the Pisces myth in essence or related since he is a son of Poseidon and of Aegeus. Theseus means to set or to place and it was due to his lifelong of mistakes that he ended up setting things to right. He was oblivious, in a sense, so that would ring true for the Neptune energy of dissolution as it relates to the mists of oblivion. I have so much in me but not enough to get done the job at hand. I will take another ten minutes and then I will outline the work for the day over the next three hours. I promise you that should be enough. I can type it up later. I will try to carry on in this manner over the course of the next several days. I have made the mistake of listening to music that makes me feel nostalgic and I must pivot, change course. I found an old spiritual record that is also somewhat nostalgic but should allow me to get more readily into today’s work. It might be fun to go to the Longnook beach next week, in Truro. That is something I can do surely? Here’s hoping the weather holds.

I have about four minutes before having to meet with clients, so I thought I would try to sneak in a little writing in that time which isn’t that easy, actually. There is this high pitch sound happening in the room. Remember those from childhood? They used to be more frequent like déjà vu which I never have anymore I kind of miss it. Apparently there is more scanning of the frontal lobe going on when you’re older which reduces the occurrence of the phenomenon even though memory overall declines over the years. Funny that. My nerves are on edge right now as I am waiting on this client session. It is the lockdown I’m sure. I have spent a lot of time now cooped up in close quarters. I don’t know about you but I’m not really that used to be so chipper all the time, which is ones responsibility in the circumstance but right now I have lost the capacity. The time with clients was actually healing and rewarding. I am still falling further and further “behind” but I am starting to care less and less. I have the ability to rejig my schedule at will and I will do what I can to stay as close to schedule as possible, but there truly is no point in doing any of this if it’s going to cause any kind of agita. And I will have to let all the negativity go if I’m going to function in any kind of magical way. I can be thinking about the past if I intend to move forward. I need to read the contract that came in from the publisher but it’s not like I have a ton of time. I am making myself present when I need to be. I am not rushing to get my hair cut I’m going to let it grow and grow, why the fuck not. It might end up looking pretty damn good in the process, who’s to say? J’ai pas moi.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 326-330  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:

And still: There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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

Gemini 6° (May 25)

I have to stop doing a number on myself that much is certain. So much of this process is psychological and the so-called delays are imaginary at best. Things are coming to light and I have to tell myself to relax and not worry. Yesterday I made one serious mistake which felt like it was going to take me out; so I’m not going to make that mistake again. There may come a time a few weeks from now, when I might be in a better physical place, that I can try again, but it will have to be done very carefully and with backup just in case things get wiggy. I know I am prone to panic, but it really could be more than that, and I am determined to shift my exercise into higher gear and stay hydrated and to limit intake of anything that alters my consciousness. It is not mixing well with whatever chemicals are released in my brain when I am on a huge (year’s long) project and under a lot of pressure, which I might not be aware of in my usual waking hours. So, I guess what I’m saying is that I learned a valuable lesson and I need to tread lightly with my own constitution, if that makes any sense at all. Not that I really need it to. That said I’m already combatting the suspicion that I’ve squandered my morning, but the proof will be in the pudding on that score as I weave my way through the work at hand. I suppose I want to get a few words in the bank here before I do that because some inspiring thoughts are indeed coming to mind. Though I’m not sure that all of them will make it into the Blague, they may be typed below—I have a line———————that divides thoughts that belong in here and those which do not. I’ve made the mistake in the past of confusing the two and let slip a few names and that sort of thing has come back to bite me. But such is life. I meant to tell S. about Gig Young. Oh well, she should be done with her yoga soon enough. In the meantime I will write this:

Astrology itself is a noble lie, you must be into the notion that the movement of the planets and there relationship one to the other, a snapshot of which, taken at the time of an individual’s, especially, having meaning. Once you accept that concept one enters into a world that functions scientifically, with rules and math and endless associative meaning. Reincarnation, too, is a sort of noble lie that is at the center of major religions and belief systems. It can’t be proven but it is the basis for an entire world of philosophy and codes to live by. Then again, the belief in any God or gods involves the accepting of a noble lie in any case. None of us have ever seen God, that I know of, and yet nothing determines human existence, our morality and judgements and the wars we wage, as does religion. At least we can see the stars.

Our brand of humanistic astrology, you might say, involves the acceptance of both the noble lies of astrology and reincarnation. That is to say that you were born the sign you are (with all the intricacies involved in your individual birth chart) but, for our purposes here, we are focused solely on the placement of the Sun in your chart, which determines what we call your sign. It sounds limiting in that a twelfth, or if we break the signs down again by sex, (not to be confused with gender), a twenty-fourth of the population shares your same sign assignation. But it isn’t, really. For, in our view, there is an inexhaustible wealth of knowledge and self-understanding available from a deep dive into any one astrological estate of sex-sign, the archetypes of which are forever unfolding. But, let’s get back to the double noble lie of astrology and reincarnation being things:  We would take the view that you have reincarnated as a certain sex-sign in this lifetime to learn a whole set of life lessons endemic to the estate of your sex-Sun-sign archetype. For example: Being born an Aries is a life-long lesson in learning a great many things about, for lack of a better term, the Self. Of course, we are all learning about our lower-case selves all the time, but being an Aries is a deep dive into understanding one’s relationship to the upper case Self, that of TK. In this view, astrology, and again the humanistic branch thereof to which we subscribe, is foremost about personal evolution of the individual in this lifetime as it relates to the more esoteric notion of the evolution of an individual’s soul, over many lifetimes. You can certainly enjoy the exercise of exploring the former application, without accepting the latter.

My work process is slower than expected. There was one more grace period present in my schedule that I didn’t even realize was there. We were meant to have a meeting today but honestly I’m just not ready. If my brain is in one thing it is hard for it to suddenly detach and wrap around something else. There is always a dual dynamic. There is the through-line of the main creative project, with its goals and deadlines, that one is pursuing, in which there is a whole universe of hopeful serendipity and inspiration, a beautiful miasma that emerges and into which you can sink in the time/space of that through-line; and then there are all the invading though, creative too, that outline future projects or otherwise take the form of lightbulbs flashing off in your head. So, you try to record those on tiny pieces of paper and putthem aside, hopeful you’ll get to them one day. But your world and your computer folders are filled with these bits and pieces and you think, if I were to get hit by a bus, how could anybody access them in the first place. I need to spend a whole year just printing out hardcopy so that maybe, in my absence, someone could pick up the thread, baton and banner of my creative campaigns. That is all there is. I don’t have children, my ideas are my offspring and I have not always been the best parent. I know that certain circumstance will see my leave the building but I really don’t want to go outside of my experience right now. I’m not sure I need to tangential guilt of the slightest undoing. The myth of Theseus, the pitfalls of “oversight”, as expressed by this great French series I’m watching on the subject, animated and illustrated with the finest works of art. I had always wanted to go to Greece, ever since I was eleven years old; and I finally got there…was it just last summer or was it the summer before? I couldn’t even tell you. I had to just check the calendar. It was only ten months ago. The room is nearly spinning from the realization. I come back to the present. I will make a lovely pasta with red onion, anchovy and parsley for lunch and we will just snack on sweet potatoes with sour cream and chive for dinner. I was back and forth with high school friends today and reached out to one friend I’ve known since 1972, my favorite year and one of pure magic, even, now in my imagination. All the rest will wait. I am beating my head against a wall. And I’m not doing the trick of working for a couple of more hours with the anesthesia of organic red wine. So I’m just going to stop. I’m out of order in today I actually learned more about Orpheus not Theseus, it is he I will alight upon tomorrow.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 321-25  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:

And still: There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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

Gemini 5° (May 24)

I seem to be writing up a storm which is pretty ironic actually since I’m really supposed to be writing very little here, now, and saving all my finger energy for the writing. The point is, if you haven’t read this before (as if I actually have readers), the plan for this calendar year (my year starts on the Spring Equinox at Astrological New Year) is to write very little on the day and copy and paste interesting bits about my previous five years writing this Blague (I’m now in my sixth), scanning five Blagues a day, such that when I end writing this year I will have read through all the first five years and collected the good bits into year six (so that year seven all I really need do is gather up all those goodies into something autobiographical (see below); the only caveat is that: the first year writing the Blague I was focused on the Sabian Symbols (I’m not going to explain them other than to say they are an esoteric philosophy of images assigned to each degree of the the 360° Zodiac) and I already link back to entries about that (see below the below) so I will also have a good idea, from this year (six) what days are purely about the symbols and not mixed up with stories from my life, meting out one from the other. Just so you know this all makes sense to me. So, having been reading five Blagues a day, dating back to my first Blague, since the Equinox, I am nearly through the first year of this Blague and therefore through writing about the Sabian symbols, at which point the Blagues will consist of more personal writing in any case which will begin to make up the bulk of this Blague for the rest of the year which is the whole point because a) as mentioned, I need to sort through all that crazy content, and b) I need to bulk this Blague up because I am writing a book this year and I can’t do that and do a lot of this. Hope that all makes sense.

Woke up quite early because I fell asleep très tôt. Ca me manque beaucoup de parler en français en tout cas. Bon ben, Today I will read a couple of chapters. You would think it would be an easy feat but it is a bit more than that. And less. I’m actually taking some of the steam out of it right now which feels pretty awesome I must say. I have not been this caught up in my work for a very long time. And yet I ramble around my office resistant to the actual work at hand, which is fine; it is Sunday and I work every day on my projects. I’ve already had my extra cup of coffee and feeling nearly one sip over the line. Takes away the temptation, though, to be a toke over. That is so not part of my consciousness, right now. There is this lie I tell myself every time that it’s going to provide comfort but all I ever really feel is panic unless I can bring myself down autrements. And since that is definitely not an option right now it is better to avoid any extra help. That is to say, it’s fine going out there alone. That is something stolen from Stritchie, who spent at least half of her career drinking through every stage and screen appearance. She stole the phrase from George Gobels, “you’re not going out there alone, are you?” And as someone who definitely has a little bit of wine each time he takes to the stage (souvent an understatement) I understand the point. First it cuts down on the nerves, evidement. Next it lends a bit of texture to the whole affair and yes, some courage too, so long as one does overshoot the runway. That is also a phrase I heard in Stritchie’s show, that is to say missing the point completely. The point being to be coherent and entertaining. I am sorry I have not always been these things, but the truth is that has only ever happened about one percent of my time onstage. Mostly I have gotten the balance right, and as I grow and mature, of course, I have made it less and less a practice to indulge in anything but a glass (and a half) of a good red wine before hitting the spotlight. I do love to perform, more than anything else. And though I regret not having the career trajectory that other actor friends who’ve “made it” have enjoyed, it is a very limiting life spent in states of expectation and rejection, neither of which are good for a sensitive soul like myself. Besides I love the world of myth and magic and mysticism and metaphysics as much if not more than I do the footlights. And that is a world I created for myself which has ultimately taken me to the stage, which it shall do more and more I imagine.

OMG I’m back in the book work and am immediately exhausted. I will never get through the whole starter kit process in these next twelve days. The first day dedicated to each of the signs will have to serve as a catch up of sorts and the gaining of another overview. Also what is it about this work that is so freaking exhausting. I feel like I need a nap and it’s only just past ten in the morning. This is going to be a fatiguing process. At the same time I am getting some good ideas, or at least I am learning to ask the right questions…a day went by and I have to say I didn’t exactly wow myself in terms of territory covered; but I think I do have a way better understanding of the terrain, and that it can move faster at this point. I want to create a really lovely and solid and quality package. That truly is my goal. I have a facility with words that I didn’t have then and I also know a lot about the signs and where they are coming from and where they are going. And I have to organize my thinking in such a way that it serves the project. Speaking of overshooting the runway. Why would Elizabeth Montgomery marry Gig Young, which wasn’t even his name; it was actually a character he played in a movie and I think they got the card wrong or something and the studio liked it better than Byron Barr. I think Byron Barr is fabulous, but what I didn’t know what that he killed his wife and then himself. His fifth wife that is, can you believe that. No, because you’re not there, and if you were you’re like who the fuck is Gig Young. He’s Byron Barr, I just told you sheesh.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 316-320   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:

And still: There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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

Gemini 4° (May 23)

I think this is day five which is great. My dreams are still fucking nuts. I’ll come back to that. Maybe. I think yesterday was enough dream to go on. One weird thing in my dream I should jot down was we were having a gathering and then some of us went out for a bit and we happened on this couple, man and woman, who were Sioux, and they were hanging out in this pond in which there were crawfish. We got in the pond. I remember that my friend Christina was there and also some old New York friends and also Mike Nats. We were smoking weed and drinking and lost track of time. And S. was waiting back at the house which, somehow, was this apartment building in a familiar dream location that is a hybrid of Cambridge and New York. We arrived back and we missed dinner. I remember now it was three in the morning, so we were gone a really long time. I didn’t have my key to get back in the building but Christina had one and I said/liked that she had my key, that I had given my own for her to have a copy—I wanted that key (back). We got in the building and there was a weird modish, Cambridge like lobby reception and S. had come down the elevator and she wasn’t angry at all surprisingly and she had some bad news to tell me which was our agent was dropping us for no apparent reason. More PDST from being in publishing. I woke up from the dream and S. was waking up to from one. We chatted for a while. She fell back it took me longer. I had another marathon dream from which I woke but I’ve no idea what it was now. We rose about six and had breakkie in the living room and an impromptu meeting which put us very much on the same page which is nice. I am trying to decide which order to do things today. I will definitely finish up all my banking. I put some edits into the branding project so I expect to get that back. I think I will spend the afternoon preparing for our Monday meeting so tomorrow I can get right into the book process. I may end up articulating a lot of what needs to happen on Monday in today’s Blague, if you don’t mind. Ha!

Listening to Led Zep Physical Graffiti and working on my budgets. Contacted a few friends because I’m not going to wait around. I had a realization and I wrote the following to a mutual friend: Someone recently said something not earth shattering something like “the way people treat you is up to you” and that is so effing true. I thought immediately of Dreger. Sophomore year when he was tripping and kept throwing himself into iron fences, when I saw a weird shadow on his leg where the shouldn’t have been one, reaching out to touch blood; phone to 911 in the crook of my neck them giving me instructions to stick as many fingers as I could into his gaping wound and keep them there until they arrived, interminable wait, saving his life as he ended up losing so much blood he had a transfusion. And then he didn’t speak to me for months while he came out of his bad-trip stupor. Always including him, taking him to dinner when my parents would visit, inviting him home for school holidays. And then he moved to Hoboken/Jersey City where I was and I got him art shows and later gigs for musical performances and asked him to be my best man when the fact is he was never fucking nice to me and never treated me well and always ignored me when other friends were around. And it’s true, it is my fault that he treated me this way. He would call us for favors and come for dinners and I was always there for him. I let him live in my apartment in the West Village when I would go away. And yet he always acted disdainful toward me, again, mostly when you and other mutual friends were around. I remember him saying that I actually played guitar well but I shouldn’t let you or other people “in the jam” know he said it because you would be jealous. Why am I saying all of this now? Because that comment he put up name-checking you all when we went to that Dead-Dylan concert but of course leaving my name off; I realized this is exactly why I stopped being his friend full-stop after he wouldn’t miss that opportunity to twist a knife (throwing Abby under the bus in the process). He is a fucking ingrate and always has been. He was the worst friend to me and I accepted that I guess because I thought my friendship wasn’t worth more. All he ever did was take and never even gave more than a reluctant mumbled thanks. I don’t know anything about him now, but man I gotta tell you I don’t want to know. What a miserable fucking misanthrope and, I’ll say it, miscreant, being formed by his own dubious, sour disdain. Never once since I friended him on the Facebook machine has he reached out to me to ask me a single fucking thing about my life or what I’m doing. Because he doesn’t fucking care and he never fucking did and I am the hands down asshole for ever expecting that vacuum of a human to do anything but to totally suck. I’m glad I saved his life. I’m glad he’s alive (if indeed he wants to be); perhaps his disdain for me is a subconscious punishment for having brought him back from near death. As myth and legend would have it, he was never the same since that experience. The glimmer of the kind sort of (dare I say Christian) hippy coffee house sensitive kid that showed up at Warren Towers freshman year was indeed dead from that trippy moment in the first weeks of sophomore year. I am ditching him once and for all from my contacts, thinking of it as a ritual sacrifice whereby I end any patterning that there might be in my psyche where I accept this sort of shadow version of friendship that puts the message out there that I don’t deserve better than to have friends (and a best fucking man? What was I thinking?) who can barely disguise the fact the he doesn’t even like me. Good. He shouldn’t like me because he isn’t up to the task, responsibility and I’ll say honor of being my friend. And with that I end this rant. Leave it to isolation to allow me, once and for all, to not be distracted to certain home truths that are coming home to roost. It is up to me what others think of me and from this moment forward that Dreger entity shouldn’t think anything of me at all. And if he does, it is none of my fucking business. The story of our knowing one another has officially ended. I’m embarrassed at the fact that I ever attempted to be friends with that creature.

Wow did that ever feel good. I am so, so done with this kind of dynamic in my life and I ask you to scan your own existence for any semblance of this. I have repeated this pattern many times in my life, put up with people who privately need me as their friend but who, when others are looking, do not honor that bond. It hasn’t really factored in of late because why would it; well, what I mean to say is that I really don’t’ have contact with this particular person; but I let him be a friend on social media which was truly a huge mistake. Trust me friend (I’m talking to you) I’m not unhappy right now about any of this. I am actually quite thrilled to finally have come to this realization. It is nearly forty years in the making, this realization. And I kind of do thank the isolation of late for this gift of slow epiphany; and now I will spend the next hour and twenty minutes putting together some notes regarding the meeting we have set up for Monday, which will be incredibly comprehensive, but not too deep so I don’t have to focus too hard on that aspect of it all. I just need to be sweeping which means gathering a slew of documents together and start to work my way through, which is super fun. I’ve pretty much covered everything. The only issue everything is written everywhere. That’s enough for today. Oh, and I got through al my petty cash receipts for the past five months. Not too bad!

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 311-15  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:

And still: There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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

Gemini 3° (May 22)

It’s the start of Memorial Day weekend

Six feet apart masks sartorial way bleak and…

It was that new moon overnight and I’m going to honor that. Last night was tetchy, girl and not sure why. My nerves were on edge and I was falling into that old refrain of feeling like I was working my tail off but not really getting anywhere, you know what I’m saying, and still doing a lot of we-work around here to boot. But I got over myself…eventually. Also, I honestly think I got a little sun stroke or something because I was like knocked out, in a weird way, by seven o’clock, honey. Sorry but I watched “We’re Here” this morning and my entire speech pattern is off all day. M’ok? Gad, I have a long way to go. The first thing I should say will be the last thing I do say, because I haven’t articulated it quite to myself yet. Which is a huge mistake because it was a dream I had upon waking. I will get to it. We did our morning things then headed out early to risk our lives for groceries, dodging folks with dodgy “masks”, hitting three stores then came back and unpacked and I took my car full of gahbageand recycling and went to dump it out. I have always loved going to the dump it is one of my (weird I know) guilty pleasures. It’s not so fun now because there is no swap shop and I’m way into ridding myself of things than stocking myself with things from the tiny wooden shack but I have found some treasures I must say. I hope we get to do things like that again. We may never. Just like we never not take off our shoes now before boarding a plane because of one fucked up asshole. Anyway I had an email to write:

Happy Memorial Day Weekend, such as it is. Unfortunately I see a lot of cars heading down Cape today. I don’t understand how it’s going to work in Provincetown where basically every single day is like a public parade. People who live in town (I’m so happy to be living in Wellfleet now) are pretty freaked out, and rightfully so. Clashes are expected between the townspeople and the visitors over social distancing, which is impossible when the street itself is about ten feet across, and tourist demands and so forth. One would think, well, there is a police department, but they are already showing themselves to be passive and complicit even. I saw cops twice this week on Commercial street chatting with people, nobody wearing masks, cops included, when it is the law. It’s crazy. Anyway, what isn’t crazy these days. Someone orange needs to get it and….you know what I don’t even feel good saying that, but do I secretly wish it?….. 

So I did end up pivoting and sending out notes to other would-be sponsors, pasting the same spiel into social media. Since you’ve always been on a different schedule in your giving, I didn’t send you the email as I didn’t want you to think I was hitting you up again. The basic lan is this: Prepay artists their fees (as commissions to create/develop work) with understanding that they will present their work live in festival when next we can stage Afterglow. In the meantime I’m asking artists to film their work and perhaps we can present an interim “Afterglow Film(ed) Festival” or some such. Anyway, we want to be agents for good, keeping the performers afloat and we did get a few hits from returning sponsors so I”m encouraged. We usually start fundraising in early March and here it is almost June, so if this flips over till next year then I guess you might say we are nine months ahead in our fudnraising LOL. Trying to look on the bright side. Theater and performance is taking the biggest hit of the art forms. There will be an easier path for Provincetown’s fine art world. And this is Afterglow’s battle cry in any case, so I’m happy to be playing banner man.

And then I cleaned the entire house, no really, and even did some deep spring cleaning and reorganized a bunch of cupboards and closets and the pantry—work—sorry but I told y’all it’s staying with me. RuPaul’s Drag Race was my idea by the way. Ask Stella. The concept predates the actual show by about ten years. Same title and everything. Except for the RuPaul part. I do love me some Ru (and I think Michelle in private is nicer than in public) but there is a shift in Ru’s personality and a phoniness (a new laugh, for instance) working it’s way in. It’s really nothing new. I mean the whole “Gu Ru” personality of the last several years was so transparent and I knew was going to culminate in her trying to be some kind of thought leader, but you can’t phone that stuff in. And anyway, her talk show didn’t work. Her scripted show was bloody awful. Stick to what you know girl? I mean I’m all for branching out if you have the cookies to do it but if your goodies are burnt and stuck to the pan then you best not bring em to the church bazaar, you know what I’m saying. Again sorry for the eubonic plague that is today’s Blague. I am getting there I promise you…I switched to working outside, writing by hand in an old notebook I picked up:

Holy merde, I have this amazing resource going in this notebook. Much of it, I imagine, might be found in what I call the “starter kits”, pre-packaging of information per gender sign whilch I’ve already expressed in other written places. ((I wonder what signs Alessandro Nivola and Emily Mortimer are (Cancer and Sagittarius.)) But sometimes you meet yourself when you’re an avid journal-ist in that you will come upon portions of writing where you left off years ago which provide the starting point for where you are now…

…I know that meditation is the most important thing and that it underscores everything. I will get there…

I wonder if Dave will ever come to visit again. I don’t hear from my friends. I can pick ‘em.

There was something in my dream about a woman who visited me, not being the woman I said visited me; it is the first dream I remember taking place in our place on Law Street where we haven’t lived for about twelve years. She left a glove and a scarf. (I want to find someone who can make my tote bags. I wonder whatever happened to Tia Woo..Wu?).

Okay the main thrust of the dream is that we had travelled to the reaches of our solar system in an environment that is (now that I’m writing it) a familiar environment given the cast and crew (pun intended) of said reverie. I have before been with all these same people with whom, in life, I’ve had the pleasure of sailing, for lack of a better word. And we have all been in a dream together where, for instance, we were in a grand lobby of some old hotel, like the Royal York in Toronto circa 1972. Which, when you think of it (or I do) isn’t all that much different from the interior of a giant luxury spaceship, which was the setting of last night’s dream. It was incredible. I think all my dreams this past week have led to this (dreams of flying cars) because we really sailed away into space. And as if that wasn’t enough, we made the decision, then to “go to” another solar system, leaving our own. (I did mention feeling as if I had sunstroke earlier, right?) And so we did. We went to another system and we landed on planets, or at least one that I remember. And the beings were humanoid but they were definitely not human. They were advanced and pale and blond and yet their features were much more Neaderthaal then our own. They were really muscley, even the women, like kind of troll people, but huge, giant, big and strong. They were wearing clothes. I remember seeing a male and female couple walking toward a lake. And then we were inside…the ship?…somewhere on a planet? I can’t really say. But creatures were two-dimensional and abstract in form, like maybe a quarter inch thick robber looking objects that were their versions of insects or something. Just as in life we were sailing with our friend Jo and her husband Neil who were calling the shots. And we were all meant to gether but Neil said that Jo wasn’t coming “down” or whatever. He and Stella and I were all in this lobby slash deck of the spaceship slash Vegas looking casino and we kind of did a three musketeers kind of hands on hands move; anyway, the word was that Jo was not happy having left our solar system and she really had to get back. Like she was having some kind of breakdown around the fact. And it wasn’t clear: Were we going with them? It was a big question mark and then Sonny and Cher were there, looking like their vintage selves and, in the dream, I had the kind of relationship with Cher that I actually have (had) with Lauren Hutton where we worked on a project together and it was easy for me to remind her who I was. But there was more to it, like, oh yeah, there were two different games or gadgets that S. and I had discovered and were playing with and one had to do with kind of programming this large robot to do stuff. It would actually like take on different faces and morph into different beings based on mental commands we gave it; and the other one was a sort of I dunno Trivial Pursuit lets say (I would probably have a better handle on this memory if I had written down first thing this morning. And there was this recognition that I told Cher, and she sort of remembered, that we were going to be traveling here, and so was she. Only I didn’t know Sonny would be here and I tried to bond with him. He was literally wearing white bellbottoms with matching vest and a kiyana shirt, however you spell kiyana. And he was sort of like uhuh, yeah, okay; and I was like, without saying it outright, trying to communicate that really I know Cher. Anyway, I didn’t know how any of us were going to get back to our solar system because really, I felt we had jumped dimensions, and I felt very strung out and thankfully unthankfully woke up.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 311-15  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:

And still: There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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

Gemini 2° (May 21)

It is inevitable that I will feel frustrated today but I have to let it all, and I mean All, go. I’m up against it and have to find a way to let out some steam or this pressure cooker will blow. It has before and it will again. And I do not want that. We watched At Liberty again last night for the first time in a couple of decades and it is better than ever. I am feeling inspired and increasingly rested, although sleep feels like I’m recovering from a brain injury which maybe I am. I decide to do a major guarde manger (I don’t remember how to spell it) I make a soup de celeriac, we have a lovely arugula and tomato salad for lunch, we even have afternoon tea with a vegan coconut cheese cake which is lovely, and tonight will be another BLAT salad. I got sunburned sitting outside earlier trying to work. After a bare minimum, and a getting of my injured brain around the whole process, I did take a break and scribble this down plein air.

Would that this could be a magic process and a relaxing one. As it is it feels wonderful to write this by hand today. I managed to rejig for probably the last time and I will have to leave it at that. It reminds me of sophomore year lying on the grass in Boston or Brookline somewhere working on a paper. On the to-do list is still contacting Bu. U. to complain about my grade-point average being fucked up by their system and those evil Bannister people (a story for another day perhaps). I am lying here on my stomach getting a bit of late afternoon sun on my back. It is quite strong. I’ve bought myself several more days, which feels fantastic. Amid this pandemic in late Spring which itself came late, it just feels fantastic to be doing what I’m doing before the heat becomes oppressive or the cold does. We might consider renting in Palm Springs this winter and resuming all business next year this time. I will mention this and get some resistance if not all out blowback.

I think working from five to eleven in the morning, then breaking for yoga, then lunch, si the ultimate ticket if my day can actually end at that time and if they extend what benefits we receive I think we should take no more than a few clients at our rate; and say we should be resuming our work on consultancy also for Spring of 2021. And even bringing branding more into it as well as personal development. Right now I’m prepping the soil. We are all farmers in the end. I am doing the best that I can trying not to feel surrounded or like a victim. So many people falling into that mode all too easily now. There is no use pretending who our friends are or lamenting any lack of family. My ancestors are all dead (oops I forgot I have a song and ten minutes of comedy to write before the end of the month—I am feelin so not funny). My only living immediate family might not be, actually, at this point; who would be to know? This could feel good today or it could backfire utterly. I must attempt a day of totally “sneaking in”, a term I use for starting work early. It is a new moon overnight so I might as well use it as a good a time as any to write that song:

I cannot see you but I know you’re there
Faintly flickering through my imagination
A clean slate I wonder will it truly be better this time around me?
Is there a spark in you in me yet waiting to catch me when I fall
Is that all that I’m waiting or, the next fumbling
A chance to transcend this cycle you put me through

Hard to say, hard to tell if I fell I don’t feel bruises
Noone wins or loses we play for friendly stakes
A passing sorry, sorry tomorrows, days in the depths and briefly shallows
A song so long, attention narrows while you shine your light of shadows
Selene? Dionne? Now which are you?
In this phase your swelling argued
Not the chasing of your brothers guilded team.
But the dream of human longing and little care one has
Sleeping through all this you greatest import
Miffed I would surely be too if I grew
Night on night but slighted out of sight.

Not sure what that was but…going to type this all up and check my baking info. And figure out the best place—probably here in this notebook–to put my sample chapter I intend to use as a guide. This is just day fucking three, which means fucking yoga tomorrow. Do Aries men have dry seses of humor. Is it possible Aries women have so arid a sensibility to be nonexistent? Has there ever been a funny Aries woman? What sign is Kate McKinnon? Judy Gold? Kate Clinton. Bridget is an Taurus but just. Where are my boys at? I must write to Kip I owe him one. Now I have to write a funny ten minutes. I wonder who wrote Elaine’s show. I know George directed it.

I’m melancholy now and have a sinking feeling. It isn’t fear or panic but sadness. Sadness for this world and my lonely place in it. Where did all my friends go? They mustn’t have been all that grand to begin with. I lose many friends too to the coupledom. People think that if they are in touch with “us” they are in touch with me, but it isn’t the same. I can’t remember the last time I just sat alone and cried. It could happen in the course of the next month if I keep up this plan and this pace that much is certain.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 306-310  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:

And still: There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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

Gemini 1° (May 20)

I will send along that feedback. I will review the to-buy-and-to-do list. I will rejig the reading and writing schedule one more time so to make it manageable. I think the earliest mornings are going to be best for making hay while the sun shines so that I can be out in the world when the non-metaphoric one is actually doing so. Getting that old familiar feeling, even during this awful time, that people are competing for praise and payouts. So not a good luck. If you’re really doing the work to help others you needn’t go around telling everyone how amazing you are for doing what you’re doing. Especially when it’s pretty damned clear that you’re motivated by your bottom line. Anyway I spent the morning putting together the loungers and they are quite big and barely fit but I am keeping them because I want to be able to work outside in a relaxed way. Then off we go to Provincetown to collect mail and all that jazz. It’s becoming too much a thing maybe to keep traveling there although I’m happy to do it on my own. We see that the Farmer’s Market is open which is good news, even as our usual go-to fish and produce stand remains quiet with no signs of life. Speaking of which we didn’t bump into anyone in particular on this journey and it was a quick in and out (so to speak). I had just done one lounger before the trip so I set up the second upon my return. Going to find my way getting into the book project today and try to avoid the whole social media world for a while. A while is a noun, saying awhile is using it as an adverb, modifying a verb, did you know that. I’m all over searches like “growing your own food for beginners” and “how to forage for mushrooms without dying or tripping your dick off.”

So let’s see we ate some leftover chowder and we will make fish tacos for dinner (which will be delicious btw). I am so into cooking and thinking about growing and planning and not shopping. I am definitely “in” to the work now and that is a good thing. I am finding that I have a way through now with certain work and I just want to spend time now reading and thinking about what this next book will be about. I am so grateful for the income of a job that forces me into lockdown at this time in any case. The worst thing about writing a book is feeling like everyone is at recess while you are in detention. Sorry but the whole misery loves company thing is real. Oh and today is day two of our thirty-three day challenge and, on Monday, I will be commencing my day with early morning Bikram yoga, once again. You see, I have to absolutely front load my body now, if for now other reason but I refuse to be a chubby person with long hair. Thin with long hair will be more tolerable. I think I’ll forgo my vanity and even shoot for ye old ponytail until this is over. I know it will never be over. I don’t understand TV news. It used to be that you would get stories from around the world. I remember when Cable first began—how much better that all became because suddenly you were seeing things from very far away, and could tune in around the clock. It expanded our world. And now Cable news does the opposite. They sit and talk about one thing over and over and over and over all the fucking day long. They contribute to the alienation and claustrophobia. I bet you anything there is an herb out there that keeps people from getting too sick from this virus.

Going to make some major moves this week. I’m feeling up to speed and up to snuff. Knock wood. I do not want to get sick with this virus, I can tell you that much. Just going to keep on keeping on. I already brought in a little bit of money and can pay out the three folks who asked after helping me. Look, if it goes no further than that it will have been a success. But it should at least get to the level of ten people, that is the goal. We will figure out the rest as we roll along. There can’t be any loss to the operation. We shall see. No pressure. The other thing that needs happening is putting together our individual profiles and accomplishments and positioning ourselves as the genuine article which we are. We are not phony baloney astrologers, we are true metaphysicians and we are not flash in the pan, mass-produced purveyors of nonsense. I am feeling happy and feeling empowered and I’m going to keep that energy going. I am going to make a delicious soup today. I’m determined to break out that vitamix and make a whole bunch of delicious things. This is the time for this type of thing. To focus on health and well being and creating a little home apothecary of food as medicine and vice versa. This part of my witch craft has always been a thing. I’m going to let that be enough for today, if that’s okay with you. You are so demanding after all. I do realize nobody but me is reading this which is fine by me. This is my therapy. That said starting tomorrow I am going heavily into the astrological theme of this work, at least, for the next twelve days. Call it preparation for a big project coming down the pike. And yes, that was alliteration.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 301-305  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:

Having to assume such responsibility so young does strain one’s natural capabilities. It also robs one of a childhood. Role reversal with a parent is not a comfortable thing. It can cause a pattern of “accelerated growth”; lightbulb going off: Perhaps this is why I acted out in so many “adult ways” in any case around that time. If one has a parent who is so checked out; and one spends a great deal on one’s own as a child; it follows that this child might get him or her self into some pretty adult situations, even when their normal means of transportation is a red Columbia no-speed bike with a foot brake. Oh the places you will go when you have no parental support but the opposite—how you might get back at your parents and the world by getting yourself into some sophisticated, even sordid situations. Not to say that there aren’t certain advantages to have lived during a certain time, and under a certain roof, in childhood where I didn’t really have one (a childhood that is). And I know it contributes to my disdain for helicopter parents nowadays who create little Sidharthas out their kids; still, I suppose I could have stayed a child a wee bit longer than I did.

But it was the 1970s and the Disney child hero, who was already bucking the parental system by being “mischievous” sneaking out at night to solve a crime at the old so-and-so’s derelict house down the street was morphing into underage partygoers hiding their glasses of champagne for photos taken at Studio 54. To be a fast pre/teen, in every sense of that word, seemed to be rewarded by the media. To be a kid was kid stuff. Who knew that my generation would grow up to become somewhat infantilized, wistful for a childhood they never had? I haven’t succombed to that fate as readily as many of my peers who have dressed like Dennis the Menace well into their 40s. For me living fast while young was a symptom of identifying with the bright young things of the 1920s, a time when you were already married with kids by the time you hit the age of 25.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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

Gemini 0° (May 19)

Remember thirty degrees of Taurus is the same as zero degrees of Gemini…

Woke at two in the morning and never really fell back; and there are two clients today, so I’m going to take this day rather easy and get on top of the cooking and some cleaning, especially of the cobwebs in my head. The farmer wrote to say an inspector is coming so I took that as my cue to ask two simple questions, to which he responded, I’ll be in the garden we can chat. I don’t feel like having to go and do all that just to get two simple questions answered so fuck it I’m not doing it. I’m really tired of the narcissists with their come-to-me attitude. I am not always available. Yesterday I wrote a letter to artists and sponsors and I activated the artists fund and so today I sent it out to everybody on the short list; and I will continue to work that magic as the months unfold. I’ve already had two formal requests and I think an informal third one. The giant lounge chairs arrived today and I’m hoping they fit on the deck, you never know. I hope that don’t require a he-man or a physicist to assemble. Although I am a little of both if truth be told. You know that game on social media from like a decade ago—chose three characters that describe you?—I chose Don Corleone, Arthur and Bugs Bunny which surely sums me up. I love Bugs Bunny so much.

I could almost go down a rabbit hole watching old cartoons. Ba-dum-bum. So yeah, I’m not ready to face the writing of a book yet today. Today is day one of thirty three days of clean living, leading up to the solstice when I plan to get good and sloshed. This is the longest spring ever. I mean it’s really effing cold. All this isolation, I know, but I gotta tell you I’m enjoying the anonymity. I was so sorry to hear about the passing of Marc Maron’s partner Lynn. Of course her name is Lynn[e] (I had to use brackets there because if you do € within an apostrophe it turns into that Euro symbol). Anyway, I won’t bore you again about this but Marc and I were in the same nursery, born hours apart, at the same hospital and that is just the very beginning of all the synchronicities we have shared over the years. Last time I saw him was at LAX waiting for a flight to Boston and he hooked us up with some tickets to his show at the Wilbur. His star has re-risen again since then. He has that hit show Glow and I have a nonprofit with the same name. That’s not even one of the biggies, synchronicity wise, trust me.

So yeah, I guess I’m sliding into home. I made (and almost burnt) a fantastic chowder for dinner, having eaten the leftover rutabaga, brussels and turkey bacon for lunch. I am really stretching out the food supply these days it’s kind of crazy. I binged on “Dead to Me.” I love Christina Applegate and Linda Cardellini, both. We touched base with our own TV people and I was asked (by my boss) to reiterate what I said in response. I’m going to try. Something like: Thanks for the update. So you think the pushback is on the anthology angle. Are you getting any reasons why. Are networks feeling that want a cast of characters that can develop over time and that audiences can get to know and love? Maybe it’s worth considering some kind of hybrid. When we envisoned a scripted show years ago we saw the characters of the astrologers as recurring, although they would be peripheral for the most part (although not always); and we would see various story lines from separate episodes ultimately overlap or weave with other stories as the series developed. We do have the example of the character of The Guy in “High Maintenance” being in every episode while the main thrust of each episode is centered on characters we haven’t seen before. Personally we could understand wanting some core characters to hang onto and dig into.

We move into Gemini today and I am of two minds. I want to forge ahead to make a decision to move on it; I also want to lay low and hunker down and do the absolute minimum. I’m a bit miffed and yet needing to let everything go. I want to order everything I need online. I want to put all my cash under a mattress. I want a sustainable food source. Okay with that I’m not of two minds. And, funnily enough today, I find that I get a friend request from Calendula Rose, who has a sustainable farm and non-profit business. I live on/nest to a farm owned by people named Rose. It’s all one thing as everything is. I find Chani very phony and the fact that she won’t share her birthday really bugs me. I want to find the right solution and tone for dealing with our ex publishers. I will get there. Maybe the new one isn’t the best title; and then again maybe it is. I’m going to sit here for exactly another half an hour and then set up to work outside.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 296-300  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:

And still: There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of 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