Author: Quinn Cox (page 1 of 155)

Below Below Yo Ho

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

Ba-bye To All That

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

Fragmental

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

See Now

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

Truthiness

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

Shagged

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

Now A Word To Our Sponsors

Taurus 29° (May 18)

Where to start: I’ll skip the sentence about this being extraordinary times and get right to it, and as I write this I’m thinking I will read this back and bold important sentences so you can skim. I hope you’ll forgive the group BCC—this is going out to artists as well as sponsors—as I have a few marks to hit here. Needless to say, I haven’t yet reached out to fundraise for this year’s festival because it felt inappropriate and tacky to do so. Though our Afterglow-at-Oberon series at the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge was cut short this season, and shows that were scheduled for March, April and May have been postponed (gods willing) until the Fall, the Afterglow Festival proper, planned for September, as per our hosting venue, the Art House Provincetown, has been all systems go. Personally, I’ve been skeptical; but, regularly urged forward by direction of the venue with which we’ve been contracted, I pushed forward on all other fronts, including casting the festival with verbal agreements in place. Then, this past weekend, the venue contacted me to say that they were being ordered to stay shut this season by the town’s board of health, which I think is the right move. And despite having put the wheels in motion, I was nonetheless ready to pivot.

If you’ve ever received correspondence from Afterglow, you’ll know our primary mission is to preserve Provincetown’s birthright as the birth place of modern American theater and performance, and, via our non-profit, to remain a welcoming bastion for stage artists to explore, experiment and expand their craft, paying performers a fee plus covering their travel, hotel, even picking up food tabs and taxi cabs; putting no pressure on the artist to amass an audience in a place that has become prohibitive to a community of non-commercial artists who have culturally defined Provincetown for over a century. In this way Afterglow is more than a festival. It is a “Save Provincetown” organization in regard to a large chunk of its cultural and artistic heritage. And these past several weeks, reading the headlines from our local papers lamenting the hits and losses to Provincetown’s performance scene, it occurred to me that Afterglow is uniquely positioned to lead the charge to help not only the artists we usually bring to town but also those who live and work here, all season, who depend on these crucial months for their very livelihood.

It’s a shame that Broadway and TV stars won’t play P-town this summer, and that for-profit venues will lose pricey tickets from tourists, summer folk and residents who afford them; but our concern is for our more financially challenged artists. So, what Afterglow can do is pivot, as I say, and use its non-profit status to funnel money nowto our more so-called fringe performers, commissioning them to create or develop new works, which they can present in festival at a later date; and perhaps in the meantime stream or film. (I am putting feelers out to our historic Drive-In theater on Outer Cape Cod to see if we might be able to present festival shows on screen for enthusiastic audiences safe and comfy in their own cars.) There are a number of ideas percolating to the surface right now, and we will do anything we can do to help artists remain afloat and engaged in their work. If you are an artist in receipt of this email, whether or not we discussed your performing in September, or if you are a Provincetown-based artist whose usual summer livelihood is in jeopardy, please contact us (concierge@afterglowfestival.org) and let us know if you’d like to apply for assistance.We will start a list and help those we can, in effect, pre-paying-out performance fees, based on the funds we raise between now and the end of the year.

Since the weekend I have run this idea by some loyal sponsors and have been so cheered by their encouragement in our activating Afterglow in this way through direct commissions to artists. Supporters are in agreement that we are uniquely poised as a non-profit dedicated to performers who are otherwise priced out of Provincetown, even in the best of times, to be of service to our ever-growing family of artists, championing their artistic creation, providing them funds to do so. Though we won’t make any money from ticket sales this September, Afterglow doesn’t have to pay out for travel or lodging or for the venue rental this year, so on that score it’s pretty much a wash. In fact, we hope to be able to support a goodly number of artists beyond those we had on the festival roster this year. Some of our sponsors might have us on an automatic annual payment schedule and perhaps some checks are already in the mail; others might be used to my putting constant bugs in their ears, which, in the circumstance, is something I’m simply not comfortable doing this year. I’m going to rely on sponsors who want to give to Afterglow this year to do so without my usual prodding, and we will funnel funds to as many artists as your generosity allows. So, if you would like to sponsor Afterglow this year and help us help performing artists keep their heads above water and create and develop new works, let us know—we will be most grateful. You can mail your gift to the Afterglow Festival to P.O. Box 129, Provincetown, MA 02657; or you can sponsor online by clicking any of the PayPal buttons on our website at www.afterglowfestival.org/sponsorships.

Okay, that’s going to be it for me today. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this today. If you want to reach out to just chat please do. Trust that whether you and I spoke yesterday, or we haven’t done so in an age, that you are in my heart and on my mind. It is genuinely sad that we can’t all gather together in a theater or at our favorite nightclub never mind around a table or piano, but we shall do so again. In the meantime stay well and treat yourself as you deserve, like your greatest love of all!

 

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 291-295  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 yet again: 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

V S B

Taurus 28° (May 17)

 

Okay so today needs to be a real Sunday. I clearly overdid it yesterday and I now must spend the day licking some of these wounds. There is so much to process and so much to accomplish and my ability to fudge my schedule has begun to wear very thin. This will be the last day I can do this and tomorrow must function as a complete catch all. My skin, she crawls. I’m being more nostalgic than is comfortable. I feel that I have to now really embrace the age I’m at and stop acting like some kind of child starving for attention. It is a chance to start over. All is opportunity. My get up and go got up and went. It’s okay I will catch up to myself. It won’t be that hard really I will work eight hours a day just like any normal human. I have the best diet on the planet. I have the beach at my disposal. I just need to stay well and not freak out. I will for sure fix the website and get information out to our sponsors and also to the artist community. I will put pleas out on social media. Meanwhile I am going to cut and paste things I’ve written to people lover the course of the last several days because I do have limited time-energy and need to make this as focused as I possibility can. I have word from the VSB and to them I say:

Why is this meeting not happening in advance of July 1 as was previously mandated?We have been working steadily on the upcoming season only to find out that we will have to postpone the event (but our usual hires have already done the bulk of their usual work).At this point we are pivoting and commissioning works by artists and otherwise helping Provincetown artists make ends meet. We typically pay for our marketing, web, graphic, pr and the like in just a months time after submitting our invoices on July 1 of each year. How can there be less budget and not surplus budget? That is my main question. The grant money you allot for FY21, which begins July 2020, was raised with tax money from hotels this past year. You know how much budget you have which is how you determine the amounts you allot.The money you do or don’t get from (hotel) taxes this summer would be for FY22. If an event is schedule for July, August, September 2020 the work would already be underway for months now.  When we find out from your office what we were alotted, as you did March 25, we will have made our plans accordingly. 

 MC alerted me this weekend to the fact the Art House will be closed this summer. Meanwhile, despite my cautions to the contrary, he had been telling me week on week for months that Art House was full steam ahead. Having a contract in place with the venue we had no choice but to prepare for the festival happening, which meant having people work. And those people will need to get paid, whether or not there is a festival in September. Your policy for FY21 should reflect what you said in your group email about FY20. My organization and others will expect to collect the VSB funds that were designated to us as this money is already in your coffers and earmarked for us. Events happening later in FY21 who have yet to do any work might be able to forgo the grant money. We cannot. 

Those were just some of the things I was getting of my virtual chest. I cannot take myself out of the game. I must stay vigilant and fight the good fight. That will be the spirit in which I approach things today. It’s going to be a wonderful afternoon of getting this information out there.

I realize that nothing is “official” until the Town votes. The town should be voting BEFORE the start of FY21. I am sure mine is not the only organization to have already done work that was planned to be covered by the VSB grant. Perhaps you should change the schedule moving forward to remove the hedging of bets aspect for non-profits functioning on shoe strings. Maybe we should be applying in November for the summer after the next, not the one immediately, so we know in plenty of time whether or not we have funds before we pull the trigger on all the many hours of work and materials without a guarantee of this being covered. It’s already a hedge to find out in the spring of any given year. Those of us working non-profit do not have the luxury of covering all the necessary costs of our endeavors without guarantees. It’s one thing to lose time and energy in a Force Majeure situation, it is quite another to then owe money out to people who work in good faith. So yes it isn’t “official” until the Town approves, but that has never been used as an argument in the past and approval of FY21 should be happening BEFORE FY21 itself begins not after three months of FY21 have already blown by.

Someone at the Tennessee Williams Festival has established an email group dating back a few weeks. It is my understanding that they were attempting to create some kind of inter-organizational support system, feeling a need for some kind of solidarity. I suspect I will be hearing from leaders of these other groups as the news reaches them. I do know that mine is not the only organziation to have already done all their planning, graphic, press releases, posters, brochures, programs and the like. We do not present in a town-run or public place so we don’t get permits from the town in any case. It is the Board of Health who has contacted the venue who then contacted us. The Afterglow Festival is the only non-profit programming on the Art House schedule each season.

Thanks for taking the time to chat with me about this. I urge you and Anthony to make the case to the Board of Selectman that people are already out of pocket for FY21 even though they don’t feel the need to meet and approve the budget until the year is already a quarter of the way over.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 286-290  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:

Once again: 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

Clearly

Taurus 27° (May 16)

 

Last night was Faggy Friday and we watched all things queer on the television. I love We’re Here, really quite hardhitting. Okay where to begin today. I woke up at one o’clock from a nightmare about my mother. I went by the house where she was living alone (she always lives alone, my father lives elsewhere, having abandoned her on some level). The house was very much like the first house in Provincetown on Law Street. Those were the days in so many ways. I see lights on in the main room and as I walk around the far side of the house there is a screened porch of sorts with lights on there too, overhead, and the table is filled with cakes of various kinds, and there is a plate with a slice of cake or pie. There is nobody there. I walk around back and my mother’s cat is outside. (In real life, when the cat was little over a year old, I did find the cat out back behind our rented summer house in Belmar.) Mother either was dead inside or had wandered off, the thought of it swirling me back to the surface of consciousness.

Ultimately I fell back asleep and then awoke with another nightmare: I was flying my 1985 Mercedes 300D slash a plane and it was just the two of us on it; and I found I could let it ride and we could fall asleep which we did; I think I dozed off in any case; and when I awoke the carplane was flying super low and (how?) directly over a highway, specifically on one side of the Hudson, I want to say Newark or the swirling ribbons of highway that make up the entire construct in and around getting in and out of that airport and all of that region, where I grew up, but where, I know, now would terrify me. And probably it is due to the trauma of my driving instructor, George. Back to the dream: We are coming in low and I have to pull up but before I can do that I have to get into the driver’s seat of the Mercedes (which might only become the Mercedes at this point in the dream—it might’ve been something more resembling a plane before that). Anyway we are touching down and onto the very left side of a multi lane highway but there is a large car or small truck already in the lane into which we are coming down so we have to pull over onto the half shoulder while the cartruck stops short, in fact, as I write this it triggers more memory, I come down alongside him but first I find myself running alongside the obviously not to fast moving car and jumping into the driver’s seat and then looking over at the person in hisher car I almost landed upon and sort of giving each other what for knowing these were extenuating circumstances and we didn’t either of us actually feel the hostility we were displaying one for the other and there might even have been the curling of the corners of our lips in smiles we refused and turned away.

I’m impressed with myself for doing as much as I did. I’m actually in the mood to take a shower. It’s actually all okay. We are initiating a heritage foundation. I don’t think I took that shower. We sat outside with blankets once the sun was setting and had some wine. As S. had a Zoom chat with her Eurogirls, she had an early wine cocktail and I took that as my cue to follow suit soon after. Surely, I’m not being as functional as I can be but I am attempting to offer whatever I can to the community and so forth. I got tired of reaching out to the phony baloneys of the world. We sat outside and I made a lovely cod with minted green beans and sweet potato fries. I was telling S. about the end of the plans for the festival and how I plan to pivot. Still no word back on the branding project I completed. I’m looking to get some cash through the account. It doesn’t feel that comfortable that things are going to reopen to be honest. We live in one of the hardest hit states, number four on the list. I only have a few days to get into this new project that is now on my plate and in that time will begin our own private thirty-three days of lententime. And so it goes. I’m proud of the work I’m doing and I look forward to getting everything moving today. I’ve all but chucked the people from my life who contribute nothing, or those who are pretending behind their frosty natures. If this time teaches us anything it is not to give a fuck.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 281-285  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:

Once again: 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

Human Trials

Taurus 26° (May 15)

 

Okay, bitch (that’s me) it’s time to get serious. First thing I need you to do is take full stock of what it is you’ve already written. So I actually accomplished ninety percent, I think, of the lingering project—it just needed some time to ferment and, in fact, I now realize that it wasn’t a process that could have been rushed, the result being something very warm and narrative and personal and easy and inviting and not slick, at all, the way off-putting promotional copy can be; we just told a story and let the truth come through and, if anything, we would seek to get even less in the way, in the edit. What is there, though, is something real and honest and really confident in that we frontloaded the designer, never in a braggy way, but we didn’t feign some kind of self-effacism, instead we took our space, place and then we backed off. There was nothing sell-sell-sell about the narrative; rather it focused on the philosophy and all the ins and outs in takes. I’m quite proud of the work, actually, and it has set me right in terms of where I need to go next. I also got a bit managerial about the whole thing, with picture placement—I love writing captions, they are fun and a chance to be even warmer and more sparky about it. Anyway, the whole experience now feels like a gift, being on the other side of it; and now the rest is like sliding into home.

I wish I knew someone exactly like me. I would truly embrace that. Oh, wait I do. I love me.

So I found this folder yesterday which is like a time capsule for where I was in my life about eight or nine years ago. It was fascinating how every single scrap or item in the folder resonated with where I am now in my life. It was like a magical object telling me that all was write with my process and the timeline and everything, really. Of all the things that have happened to me in my life, and in the course of writing this Cosmic Blague, few things have been so on theme as this: Synchronicity, and the Universe otherwise sending messages or, playing jokes (blague is French for joke) being the primary one. All that said I woke up feeling really weird and nervy. I decided to take the day off. I had a bad neck ache. I fell back to sleep after watching most of the season of The Great on Hulu. I didn’t do fuck all. It felt fantastic. I awoke refreshed. I had a baked sweet potato with chive for lunch and salmon and tomato and avocado for dinner. I need to rejig the menu today. I need to take it easy. I’m upset at the fact that friends I introduced to other friends cut us out of the equation. The sychophantic fucks deserve each other. I learn that the festival is cancelled. I don’t really care all that much. I will channel energy and money to the artists. I will enlist my friends to help me. The loyal ones that is. The rest can go fuck off. I’m sticking to my plan and I am remembering the time capsule that I found. I am looking forward to the delivery of lounge chairs, so that I might work and lie outside in the air. The traffic is starting up. People don’t care who they hurt. There will be a reckoning.

Felt good to let everything go for a day, but already tetchy in a way. I think the only way I’m going to get on with this is to go into superwitch mode. It has worked before and it shall work again. There has to be some kind of path through all this crap and I’m happy to be the one to blaze it. I cannot believe that there is going to be a total breakdown of stuff happening. I wonder what greedy hypocrites will have to sell off pieces of themselves to survive. I do not like to be undervalued but that is something which is always up to me, not others. Do you ever have the experience of not remembering things that happened in the night? But you know something dark occurred? I feel that way every time I’m in Cambridge, my tenure there having not endured. There will be another place. This virus will have been to blame. I sent off letters to sponsors and I need to write something definitive, something like Hello. Needless to say anything about anything. I was waiting until today, when the governor of Massachusetts, where our non-profit is incorporated, is to make a declaration on openings and so forth, to reach out to you with news of our plans. Until two days ago, the Art House Provincetown where Afterglow is staged was still all-systems-go with their own summer’s season’s program, the last of which, is always Afterglow. I’ve cautiously put the minimal of wheels in motion, casting and otherwise preparing for whatever inevitable, as I felt gut-sure that performance venues would be shut down and, on Saturday, I heard from friend Mark Cortale, who runs the Art House, that the venue was indeed being closed for the season, by order of the town’s Board of Health. So, no surprise there. And I had already begun brewing ideas on how to pivot and, in effect, turn Afterglow into a source of funds not only for the artists slated to perform, but perhaps a dozen more, including Provincetown artists who, given the closures, find their annual, and often main source of income having gone poof this year. So the idea is to commission work from as many artists as we can, to be performed live at a later date and, perhaps, in the meantime, via other media. If artists were to film their work, we might be able to present the work, virtually, in festival, or semi-so, say, projected onto the screen at Wellfleet’s Drive-In Cinema or in some other safe outdoor setting that allowed for social distancing.  That was certainly a good start. I love good starts.

The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 276-280  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:

Wow, okay. 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

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