Capricorn 17° (January 7)

 Up late. Surreal on so many levels. Watching the same clips over and over of the terrible thing that happened not since 1812. And I was so tired that after breakfast and two cups of coffee I fell back to sleep only to be awakened five minutes later because the constable came to deliver. What a day. Wrote to the lawyer. Put together dinner (ragout of onion, eggplant, mushroom, rosemary that I will serve over polenta) and lunch (arugula salad with tomato and palm  and parm) and scanned the document and sent to lawyer and now speaking to him. It is not a rosy scenario, but hopefully we will get what we want, which is what we originally wanted in the first place. If El Fuckface wants more then it will have to be less the legal fees, otherwise, you know what, I’m happy to go to court. And I’m happy to have my say there. It will not be pretty for fuckdoodle. So this is where I was and where I am now going. We made an amazing polenta with the rancor of mushroom an eggplant. Forget Oh yes we just watched the news until I passed out at which point S. Went to watch and Ivan at all film the sheer stupid not quite close enough. All in all we were in collective shock all day there’s no way we could not have been we were immediately gaslit. Whatever is about to befall us these next two weeks I cannot imagine. My sister shares the same birthday as this maniac. I know all too well how those who feel they’ve nothing left to lose can be the most dangerous people on the planet. June 14. Flag Day. Jumpcut too that ****** *** hugging the red white and blue. Joe Scarborough said ******* on television I’m so excited about that . I had to listen to it 3 times before I believed it. We chat with the lawyer additional clarity is ours I’m prepared to do whatever necessary I will not be intimidate it. I come from a position of power, I am draped in righteousness. And I have much to do creatively and the lie tried like hell to void . Like this of creativity in a distressed environment here I am so I have got to find some new level of resolve of determination but also just productivity I just need to turn **** out. 

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1406-1410. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.

Was meant to go to dinner tonight at Tim and Billy’s but I am feeling really coldy. And as it turns out they have two cats, so my windpipe would probably close up as it is. I have this problem a lot. It prevents me from visiting folks. And all the best people have cats. I did get a lovely care package of Inidan food however so that was quite the perk. Delicious. Today will be all a pastiche of Thursdayness. I am trying to rewrite history here a bit and get way ahead of myself, disguising my timeline in this Blague for no reason at all other than I need a diversion. I’ve stopped writing to myself and that might have been part of the creative problem these past weeks. I’m suddenly intrigued by the notion of making mead—is that a crazy thing to say. Most probably. A house on the north shore might also be a thing of beauty, though I dare say I would miss the Cape; still it may be no excuse not to keep momentum going. One can always change their minds in a fortnight.

Pisces is the final sign of the zodiac and like it’s opposite facing Fish suggest, it is a sign of complete paradox. It is all and nothingness, the alpha omega, the womb tomb from of primordial existence. The mutable-water sign, symbolized by mists, fog, foam, écume, scum—the twelfth astrological house has been called the dust bin of the Zodiac with a spotlight on recycling, as befits the final turn of the wheel that Pisces portrays. And when George Harrison said Life goes on within you and without you, he weren’tjoking. This misty mstyical, mutable-water sign portrays non-material existence, which we scientfically know is all existence, so-called matter only being dense energy. Ruled by planet Neptune, the cosmic energy of dissolution, we are dissolving, seeing and venturing beyond the seven colored veils of Salome, over Iris’ rainbow archetypes of the previous sign of Aquarius, now, in a magical dream world or in that blissful state of Nirvana, not to say they are mutually exclusive. Neptune and Pisces represent the realm of purest imgaination, and also delusion and hallucination. Lest we forget that magic and imagination share the same etymology as imagery, any and all sort of which is ruled by the twelfth house.

It really is so important to just keep going. Not everything is going to be an epiphany, but sometimes we find them in the showing up, in the simple doing—they don’t always have to strike us you know. I can feel what it is my soul need and I believe myself prepared to deliver, it needn’t be so hard to do so. This is what reparation is all about. And it’s a robust process of letting go. I’d like to learn to astral project. It’s funny how that world now seems that much more available to me; I’m not sure why. But I am happy to explore it in such a way that it becomes the o’er hanging umbrella on the process.

Too distraught for words about the Paul Manafort thing. That’s all I’m going to say because I feel, on top of everything, simply gipped for not reciving a bigger pay off of his unhappiness. The law of compensation will get him in any case. So onto better subjects. I just smelled spring for the first time this year. And yet it really will remain so cold. Tonight we will say fuck it and very last minute I will get some wine, come home, and make some pasta in the process. Yesterday I went to Orleans and got some dinner supplies and I forgot the chocolate, which was a bit stupid of me. Today I need to go to the bank and check to see if my direct-deposits are working; and I will stop by the shop for some Pellegrino and things are already feeling very lucky Irish. It does seem weird that St. Patrick’s Day falls in Lent. Whoever was in charge of that decision wasn’t Irish…or they were.Anyway, we are going to want pasta so I will do something on the healthy side with arugula but, you know, it will still feel decadent enough, even though it is gluten-free, considering how navel gazing we have all now become as a result of our diets.  I think I wanted to be prepared for the weekend when I finally catch up to my big bad self. And I keep getting these waves of gratitude and glimses of myself in faraway places. I’m so fortunate to have such a deal as we do here in such a beautiful place and maybe feeling a little assisted too. We will watch two RuPauls in a row because why not. This time next week supposedly Brian is going to visit us; we shall see.

It is truly amazing to get some good financial news. The power of the purse is not only a them in our current political climate, it also hits rather close to home, I must say. It can all be pretty relaxing if one lets it be that’s for sure. I will synch my phone and laptop later to get all the photos I need from recent short forays. I’m getting my brain around all of it. Would be quite nice to have a little print show but of course it would be product too. I’d like to go see good while we’re in town I wonder about the Ritz apartments in Boston. Would be fantastic to make little projects and to partner with people and, of course, do our readings in the back. Astrolabes and jade rings. I know I will find the truth by letting go. Pisces energy of sacrifice. I came upon a recent notebook I had started writing in. You know how it takes a few moments to know from what era some like this derives? It turns out the first page had the first ever know about our first xmas show which we called Over the Hill and Everywhere, which is written here on the page, it’s remarkable. Another page looks like:

Just starting to trip. Type A Tripped Out Twosome. Seeing trails. Ooh, hoo did you just see that? Still I remain of the [word not clear], In the fast lane breaking. British sor of is. Mari-Mary. The energies existed before thecharacters did. Venicle of time. Time is the car and we are the road. Identical cousin. I lost my virginity in a case of mstaken identity. The end of the year s a great tie to thik about dying. But you know astrology is the point of this show and indeed our lives . Music and lecture. Ubiquity.

I actually had to stop it was too much. I can’t believe everything I say now is here in this notebook from some near twelve years ago, which is crazy. You know it’s quite possible that this idea book goes back even further. But wait one more: I know Jesus loves me but let’s face it i wouldn’t love him nearly as much back if he wasn’t so runway ready. He’s a model.Not an Abercrombie or Hilfiger or Hugo Boss model. He’s a Dries van Noten model with the hair and the beard which, despite his itinerant lifestyle, his parapathetic lifestyle, I know he smells like Herbal Esssence. Anyway, then there is something about Mary Magdelene being so lucky. And then blessedly it ends.

I pulled out of our driveway and the driver in the first car that passed me gave me the finger. I came back and told S. the story and she said someone drove past the house at top speed just after I left. Someone angry out there. I sort of have my suspicions as to who it was; actually, I think its someone who associates my car with this property and are confusing us with its previous inhabitant. I will do fuck all this morning. I reached out to Dave, so I might speak with him later we shall see; funny that he knows Nicholas, that they really grew up together, synagogue families et al. I found Robin on social media and she is still so lovely looking. Anyway I don’t know what to make of most things. I will take a giant nap and then S. and I will make a light cod dinner, after having polished off the pasta leftovers. Extinction bursting with excitement since the new moon. And work-wise I am looking on the bright side—I have drafted the introductions, nearly, of all next year’s books. I will take a quick stop at the Well to see what their menu might be like; I don’t even know if they are open this time of year. Spring happens very slowly at land’s end, I can tell you that.

So I did end up taking a majorly long nap and when S. Came home we just decided to chill out and rewatch an episode of a funny Will and Grace and then I wanted to turn her onto this weird Royal Scandalshow from the early nineties with Richad E. Grant and Susan Lynch—I think that’s her name. It is so odd to think that programs from that date could look so terribly dated. It was like looking through gauze. A lot of the BBC shows from that time have that sort of fuzzy bright-light quality I find. I have this William Blake book, the cover of which I love (and on which I based our own Haute Astrology books), and found all sorts of annottion inside. I always love stumbling upon them; but in this case I’ve had this book on my stand and dipped in but never noticed because all these pencilled sidebars are on the pages where Blake’s actual plates appear; I never bothered, really, to look at those because they are ill-printed inside this paperback; and I was sticking to the type-set versions which are more designed to read than look at. Blake is a Sagittarius of course thus the marriage of heaven and hell. I’m very much open to a love-affair (with life) this springtime. I don’t think I’ve ever, ever loked so forward spring in my lifetime. It’s going to feel most gratifying, mostly, to stay in the moment with all that is currently on the horizon.

I will do only and exaclty what I can do and no more. I certainly can’t feel bad about missing a deadline. But I do think that going after the grants is a smart thing to do. And I will make that part of my gentle roll out. I have to savor this moment. I have to savor this year. I have to read at least ten pages of a book a day and limit the amount of overall sitting I do in any case. We have decided to do a free twenty-four-hour Haute Astrology book give away to celebrate the start of the astrological New Year with the Equinox, which is pretty sxciting. I’ll be in some kind of regular ritual by then, taking the next week or so to figure out a simple formula that will take. It’s something that needs to emerge from the mist rather than be dictated by intention. As I write this I am overwhelemed with the feeling of strolling through the d’Orsay in the morning knowing you’re going to La Laiterie for lunch. There simply is no better feeling than that which living there imparts. I have such a hard time imagining New York again as the mainstay—it just doesn’t feel write. It’s always been France or Maine or both, ultimately.

Just noticed that our book Sextrologywas listed in the 14 best astrology books, picked by other astrologers which is fun. I needed a little something something. I realized that we could be a little more outreaching and start to corner the workshop market which dovetails perfectly with themes in our book. It is cool that we are the best astrology book about sex—the danger being pigeon holed for that. Our book is about the inescablabe archetypes of our signs  on the basis of sex and for the most part along the gender binary while bridging into other areas. Evolution meaning that the signs evolved, that our philosophy has evolved, our theories have evolved and it is quite simply what is next, satisfying simplest reader hunger. And anyway, as I’ve long threatened to do, I’d like to get into the esoteric a bit more; perhaps I could even get my transcripts expunged and find a school that would take me. I know that’s silly, but maybe I can work my way in, for real, to Harvard (not the extension school) if I were to actually get some kind of artsy fartsy position there. That could happen, right? No! I really am just kidding with that idea. Or am I?

I can appreciate the twinkling environment of a home office to start. I need to further my Glow Festival outreach as this year unfolds as well; which would be best to do in Boston in any case. And yet as I type this I’m thinking how busy we would be if we also eventually had some kind of situation, a studio even, on, say, the Upper East side which could be very good indeed for business. I’m not convinced we need it and here’s why: if New York is really only good for consultancy things then we might happily avoid it all together. I know a great many artists who never have to be in a city like New York, London or Los Angeles and that suits them fine. I find it the most confounding thing that I still don’t know where I myself would like to live best. I do feel like Neil Simon’s Prisoner of Second Avenue to some degree any time I’m in New York. I found East Cambridge to be intriguing for sure; but I think we are going to be better off in some full-service buidling that’s on the nose. And I think we focus on establishing that reality and let the others fall into place. It’s all a big crap shoot anyway, and one just has to start somewhere. I just know, for myself, that I tend to be creative very much on the fly. And yet one has to have something solid to come home to somewhere in these United States.

In just a matter of a few days I will have completed four full years of this Blague which really feels a bit surreal and though it has been differetn things at different epochs it has very much been like a best friend all these years. Actually I realize I started writing it after a very hurtful end to a friendship and in many ways I stopped turning to others and finally, more fully than ever before in my life, decided to turn to myself if you will.  I will take the bull by the horns with books and appearances and hopefuly in the creation of content; I would in fact be thrilled to take my little show on the road—all the little shows on the road—and I can’t discount the possibility that, by June, I have my own piece of work to put onto the boards. It is meant to be all in good fun, really. And I don’t believe we should take anything about this life all too seriously in any sense. Still I think it important to let it all happen through you. I’ll never be some kind of academic, no Neil Gaiman me.

The plan there is to offer the book for free for a day. And to start telling people about who we are and what the brand is. I will begin the day with the cosmic climate. And I’m going to focus on events and workshops this year while I outline a new proposal. I have to turn the page and change the headline all at once come late March which gives me a good two weeks—also our event is exactly a fortnight from today. I love the spring awakening. I love that Nina Simone song Another Springat least I think she wrote it. We have just planned two tiny New England trips and a staycation; I’m going to begin to optimize the workshop thing, even now, close at home, perhaps working in a studio setting on mantras and exercises. And I have some lecture and workshop thoughts to put into plan; this can dovetail with outreach to event folk. It entails one big data base.

No sooner had made a plan to work on grants that I realized I not only missed the deadline but that it just seems so deadly a waste of time. However, I will set sites on it for sure for next year. I also need to work on my dates for Afterglow at Oberon. I will fill them in as we flow along here today. Otherwise what will be will be on that score.

Oct 3 Nov 7: Witch Camp Feb 20 Mar 19 Apr 16 May 14. Always plenty to do and plan. I feel that I can do more for artists, to help them perform more regularly throughout New England. It truly is a worthwhile endeavor and I’d like to hone the cred here in this arena; I’m confident I can do jus that in the coming months. I will find theaters, I will book artists, and I will have their talents be known. Starting with these two characters close at hand. I must find a way to proliferate their talent in such a way. I need to put this letter to artists on a list. But I might very well find that I won’t soon need to be so directly involved; we shall see. I think it’s all in the set up.

Wake. Write. SM/bite. Exercise. Notes/Coffee. Write. Lunch. Work. Dinner. Read. It goes something like that. So important to stay in the flow. And so challenging not to let go momentum. But oh, so necessary. I will finish these book drafts and have casting complete by the end of the month. I move, then, immediately into writing: fundraising pleas, rejigging bigger book proposal, reading through the old Blagues and writing anew, and putting together client, event, fundraiser, investor, media and all other data bases. You know, just a little busy work. It will be fun and it should prove challenging. I should like to be away for October and there will likely be an event in Scotland in November. I will fly back for the Witch Camp show. Then I think we should be in New York mid November to mid December. Come back, have Xmas and an entire collection. I will need to devote from April, primarily, to that enterprise. If I were to get a book deal I could begin writing it in 2020. So now you know my plans in cryptoform.

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.