Author: Quinn Cox (page 1 of 124)

Diss Revisited

Cancer 25° (July 15)

 

Awoke yesterday feeling pretty good. We had a formal-ish breakfast outside of eggs and sage on toast with some leftover veggies from last evening. I did a bit of writing before lunch which was a little private birthday affair for M, who somehow got up and played a tennis match. These people are made of iron. Anyway, even though I’m trying not to eat bread and pasta (I’ve already been eating bread at every meal) I was super excited that we were having pasta—tagliatelle with courgette and beans direct from the garden seasoned with lemon and tarragon and chive—and a huge salad. I’ve been the dressing maker for all the meals. There was an encore of birthday cake and coffee and then M. opened his prezzies. For the man who has everything we got a tee shirt from Hatches Fish Shop and Produce in Wellfleet. Now his life is complete. After lunch No. 1 and her friends set off back to London and we took a much needed walk in the country with the doggie. I was explaining Provincetown to Gbf and in the telling it sounded absolutely insane which of course it is.

Today marks eight weeks until festival and I have to laser focus on getting some money in. The first thing that requires is some working wifi. Anyway I will have to plug away for an hour at least per day and come up with some clever ways of cajoling people into place. If I go down the list now and try to get the usual suspects on board at least the next three days then I can probably leave off it for a few weeks. That means I can solely focus my morning writing ritual on the beautiful chapter sample at hand and if I get just a page of draft down a day I will have over ten pages to play with upon my return. And then I can spend an hour or so a day refining those pages while focusing fully for six weeks on optimizing the festival experience, getting the press release out and such, so that by the end of that six week period, both projects will have come to fruition.

Back to yesterday: After our nice walk which was seriously rural, walking through some tall grass in parts where the path was grown over, we returned to the house and everyone went there own way for an hour or so. P. made a slew of sandwiches which she wrapped in brown paper and tied with red-white bakery/butcher’s string—Parma ham, salami, cheese and some other meat—as they were setting off on a multi-eastern-European-country trip, starting with a crossing to Copenhagen, first thing in the morning from Kings Cross. I suppose they will have slept in our beds, never mind. Little No. 4 was in charge of making supper—the aformentioned charcuterie items with toasted bread, green salad and then aubergine steaks with white rice and soya sauce. First, P was drinking a faux g&t while I had real one and some open red with the meal. M had come down looking like he was setting off to work which wasn’t not true. He was basically bathed and dressed in what he would wear the next morning to work, driving back to London (with Nos. 4 and 2 along with her Gbf), directly after dinner, just to take off his outfit long enough to sleep. I must remember to tell N. that M. knows one of the members of Fat Cops.

With everyone gone we cleaned up a bit and watched the first episode of Sexual Education which was really charming if totally unlikely, but really good fun. I slept in a separate room, again, in advance of what surely would have been a night of snoring; I can only guess. And feeling a bit rough this morning I pounded flat and fizzy water and had a whopping three coffees. No. 3 took us to the train station in Diss in time for a train that was cancelled and now we are on the next one and P. is taking us to a Szechuan place for lunch which I’m super excited about. I wrote Jacks back last even and hit all the marks she raised in her text. We will see the Lee Krasner exhibit at the Barbican this afternoon and then we have a rezzie at Braun in Columbia Road. I am very aware as I’m typing this that I am communicating in British fashion both in language and in the accent in my head. This morning Anne, the housekeeper asked me if I was from London. I am such a chameleon in this way and always have been and I make no apologies for it. Sometimes (especially for a Libra) are truer self is the abstract self that we direct in becoming, not the self that would reflect our inherited lot, origins and early childhood conditioning.

There seem to be a lot of well-heeled hippies in this part of the world. There are a number of people, men and women both, with their hair up in (mostly gray) buns. As it is, England has that scruffy chic thing going on. But I’m getting a kind of vibe akin to what I imagine Cornwall might be like. It’s good that today is purely social I must say, and that tomorrow can be really more exclusively focused on work. P. has some great ideas about the collection even if only in so far as it is reminding me of things I want to do. Someone is listening to music on the train without headphones which is obviously meant to annoy. I just shot him a look and he, a boy, really, shot one back that said: yeah, I’m actually doing this to annoy people. It’s working. Oh well one must choose their battles in life and I’ll take this as an opportunity to let myself be exposed to new trends in music. P. just showed me No. 1’s cartoon for Tortoise. I have to really dig in there and see what that publication is all about.

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

PASCALE

Cancer 24° (July 14)

 

Today is M.’s actual birthday but yesterday was the celebration. I did manage to fall back asleep yesterday morning which was a godsend otherwise I would have been a total mess. I woke up just in time to shove some toast and coffee into my gob and jump in M.’s car to Woodbridge which looked like a lovely town of which I wished I’d seen more. We went to see P.’s new shop and have lunch at New Street Market. And then we immediately drove back listening to a bunch of songs in the car including some Millie Jackson which sent me down a rabbit hole when I got back. We had an hour off so I tried to create a musical score for “You Never Cross My Mind” which M said was his favorite. I thought maybe I’d sing it for him, so I spent a couple hours on that and then got dress for the evening and went to help with the food prep. It was quite an operation and I didn’t have much of a role except for drinking some local sparkling wine we brought and making dressing and helping others get their various jobs done. E had arrived with her friends Becks and Ellie and the kitchen was quite abuzz. E. has this habit of bending down and making a screwed up face when she bids me hello and goodbye. It makes me feel like a weird, elderly and slightly odious figure. I made an achouaide and then crushed some cumin seeds into dust with a mortar and pestle.

The Newlands arrived next and the ritual barbequing began. All the girls were in the kitchen and the boys were around the Webber. We cooked the lamb first then set it in the Aga, which is turned off for the summer, so really we were just hiding it. Then we could some haloumi and some vegetable kebabs. Last to arrive were Ben West and his girlfriend Andrea Arnold which makes this a very cosmic blague indeed. You see she is the director of season two of Big Little Lies and just this very day the internet was lighting up with controversy about her versus the producers of the show. I didn’t realize our meeting was exactly timed with this kerfuffle; I only know that I had been watching the show until we left the states and had told her I was really enjoying not realizing that much of the conflict centered on the fact that (she claims) she was given complete create control over the direction of the season—she’s an Oscar- and Cannes-winning director so I’m sure she wouldn’t have taken the job if she hadn’t—HBO, I learned later looking online is standing by her not Marc Le Valle or whatever his name is who did season one and who seems to have re-edited her work. (There are calls to release her director’s cut.) Anyway this is going to make her name much more well known. But I have no idea of any of this as I’m sitting next to her (of course) at dinner. She mentions her daughter just did a performance on queer/transgender theme at Soho Theater. I tell her I run a festival which I founded with John Cameron Mitchell—I figure given the Nicole Kidman connection (he directed her in Rabitt Hole) that she might now him and of course she does and she asks how his mother is doing and so forth. She does seem a bit, how do you say, cut and dry (turns out she’s an Aries) so I stop trying to engage her in conversation and see if she pursues me which she never does. So I focus on my buddies seated at the end of the table with me, Martin and the birthday boy.

Martin is living in Vienna doing a certain kind of conflict resolution thingy, something to do with the Saudi’s, I don’t really get it but I never really get anything like that. You can explain it to me ad nauseum and I simply won’t absorb. Anyway I always love speaking with him just as I do Matt. We had a delicious meal followed by a chocolate cardamon cake that No. 4 made. And a good amount of red wine following the champagne. A.A. was having a “dry July” but I don’t wonder if her initials aren’t more telling. I was under the impression she and Ben were staying over but they left soon after we all sang happy birthday and cut and circulated the cake. (I think we were nineteen for dinner.) But suddenly they were leaving and I asked Ben why and he said “I do what I’m told” to which I replied something cheekly like: “Oh I see what this relationship is all about..” Soon after, the other Ben and M. and their brood of four headed out. B. is one of my favorite people on the planet. Actually my list of favorite folks on the planet is pretty much peopled by members of this family. I cannot tell you how much more focused and centered I feel being in the midst of all of them and it ups the priority for me to rub up against them a lot more often.

We were all cleaning up while topping up our glasses and I said to M.: Would you slip away with me to the living room so I can sing you a special song. He said we should have everyone come in which may go some way to explain why it is I fucked up the song so bad. The youngies came in with S. and me to do a quick rehearsal which was no help at all. S. suggested we just wing it. I requested another glass of wine and we gave it a whirl but I guess the wine and my nerves sent my careful plan for the song out of my head. For starters there were supposed to be spoken bits which, for some reason, my brain decided I should sing which was not a great idea. Anyway, I got through it. And then we just sort of attempted a sing-a-long which was equally bad. I actually went to sleep, purposefully staying behind so I could snooze for a bit in the living room and give S. a break from what would definitely be a night of snoring, given the rural setting, red wine and feather pillows which add up to my night congestion.

 

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Diss

 

Cancer 23° (July 13)

 

We arrived in Diss where No. 3 picked us up at the station. We wanted to get some good wine/champers so asked him to take us to a decent place; he had no gas in his car so we filled it up and went off the Wickendon or some such. It’s where the farmers market is and we’ve been their a few times before. I haven’t been taking any instagram photos but I will start doing once a day. H. drives way too fast and S. was a bit panicked. Anyway we arrived back to find No. 2 and her German boyfriend, whom we hadn’t met, taking natural light photographs of product for the website and such for the new store, simply called PASCALE which we shall go and see tomorrow. Something I’m looking very much forward to. Suffolk is beautiful and the house is beautiful and the kind of loveable mess I miss—a painter on a ladder doing his bit in an overall redecorating scheme, cupboards having been emptied out, their contents stacked (along with stock for the store) into what used to be a sort of kids computer/games room. No. 3 made himself a sandwich leaving his plate, and oversized ketchup bottles and mayonaise and pickle jars on the table. The photography team were getting wonderful shots which I caught in glimpses as I passed by their laptops. Little Reg (the dog) was so adorable when we arrived and genuinely remembered us which was so cute. He stationed himself on the top step to the landing where our room was waiting looking lovely.

I forgot how much I love gin tonics with cucumber oh my my. P did come home looking very stylish indeed and caught us up on the store plans in bits and bobs while we made drinks and toured the garden and helped her cut some sweet peas as No. 2 and German boyfriend shifted from photography to cheffing and No. 4 collected courgettes. We caught up on some family and friendly gossip, Reg underfoot, and otherwise entertained each others with stories old and new. We lay the table, we cleared the kitchen islands, we made another round of drinks, we put flowers into vases, we ground spices, we laughed and it was suddenly ten o’clock when we sat down to eat, M. not yet arriving from London. An eggplant curry with spinach and rice and sautéed chickpeas. We made a plate for M. who did arrive an hour into it after more stories about our dreams and favorite films and sketches. Kate McKinnon’s ears were ringing. More deep belly laughs and anecdotes and then a half-assed attempt at cleaning up and then off to bed where I apparently started to immediately snore so S. has taken refuge in a nearby bedroom of which there are surplus; and I’ve been awake since five as, instead of poor madwoman screaming (M. thinks it was Arlene) I have been roused by an embarrasment of wood pidgeons (you can’t call it) cooing (as it is way too loud) right outside the window, where they seem to be inhabiting the vegetation growing up the stone exterior. I’m exhausted and will have to try and find a way to nap this afternoon. Apparently No. 3 leaves his bedroom window wide open and one of these giant birds has flapped its way indoors

P. is coming back to London with us on Monday which I hope means we’ll have a lovely meal together just the four of us. I do want to find a way to talk to E. about doing some illustrations. We are meeting Susie regarding our Paris accommodation and I’ve had word from JLL, who seems to be struggling on the family front, regarding our NYE plans already if you can believe it. Well do believe it because things do happen rather quickly and snap your fingers and before you know it. I do want to find an accompanist for Christmas show but I don’t want to have to wait to put the band together. Or I suppose I could let it go. That might be hard to do. Surely we can find somebody talented we can work with. Who knows we might even alight on a better situation then what we’ve had in the past, but I seriously doubt that as we’ve been working with the best now year on year.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

The Wailing

Cancer 22° (July 12)

 

So after chatting with Freddy I did need to prioritize bathing and shaving and otherwise trying to feel like some semblance of a human being. The plan was that I’d do all that and we’d go for a walk before M. returned to take us all to dinner. Well I came down stairs once again fully dressed, now, to go out. But we sat, the two of us, in the garden, mustering the strength before deciding to go all the way back up to take another nap instead. S. definitely did but I’m nost sure I actually did but it was restful all the same. And then I descended the staircase just as M. arrived home; he ushered me to the garden for a chat before we had to leave to stroll to our reservation. We has a little bit more of funny chat, picking up from the morning; and already I’m feeling like I’ve been here several days, not that I’ve just that morning arrived. Then we four set out to dinner where we would be met by E. the eldest of this household’s particular brood, who lives in a flat in Shoreditch, which would be about equidistant to the restaurant as it was for us.

We wove through that bit behind Sadler Wells and down to stroll along the canal where, given the time of day, was strewn with runners and bikers and people partying a bit and hanging out. Well heeled people having drinks at cafe-bars and more riverfolk looking types sitting along the water drinking and spliffing a bit. We saw in the water two swans and three cygnets a short distance away and then, with a shout (what I assued to be) the male swan took flight toward us and then sort of ran along the water, flapping and then landing with a very impressive diplay indeed. It really was quite something and I thought it was a show of preemptive aggression toward anyone who was going to mess with his mate and three gray fluffy babes. We left the canal and continued our stroll and ended up at our destination, Sardine. It is P’s favorite place apparently and it looked very cool and casual and on a Provencal theme. They had a cookbook a stack of which greeted one upon entry. We sat at the back near the loo. E. arrived we ordered drinks and they brought some tapenade on toast. They only had one onglet left which I know M. intended to have but, in signature generosity, he offered up to Freddy for whom it was promptly reserved. I had a plate of tiny clams and then some pork with beans and I’m guessing escarole. It was nice. We all shared one bottle of wine and I skipped dessert. My stomach was in extended travel mode and I wasn’t feeling that great when we returned.

As you may know English people don’t use window screens nor do they have storm windows. So in winter it’s always quite drafty and in summer I never know how far to open a window. There is no air conditioning, nor has one typically needed it. But as you ready for bed and open the window you cope with a few things. One is the fact that you hear everything from the street, even in what might be a sleepy square like this one. The other is this fear that something is going to fly in at any given moment. A nocturnal pidgeon, a bat. I get very used to it in a day or so and come to love the open window but at first I feel a little panicked and thus keep the window nearly closed. And it’s been hot. Anyway I was feeling sweaty and very full, swollen really, like my entire digestive system shut down operations. And there was the usual street noise which is always kind of like a Shakespearean lullaby. But last night there was this crazed young woman, homeless I’m  assuming circling the square in the middle of the road shouting to herself. I looked out and she was sort of swirling about and mumbling very loudly and looked up and even said hello. But it wasn’t a friendly hello it was rather kind of menancing. And then there were large, loud circling helicopters that sounded like they were going to come right through the window. I did manage to fall asleep finally and was pretty dripping with perspiration for much of the night which was marked by fitful sleep.

Then around four o’clock we started hearing this loud wailing. It seems the woman, whom I’d yet to confirm was the same woman, was making her way back she was crying and screaming and shouting the name of what sounded like Ali or Ami or something of that sort. It got very loud and very intense and I looked and and sure enough it was her; and at that moment four very large police women began circling and actually tracking her and she started to walk away. They followed and suddenly everyone was out of sight. Five minutes later the four policewomen started walking back and they were laughing with each other and almost as loud as the wailing woman had been. It wasn’t even four thirty. It was shocking how loud the whole crazy night turned out to be. And yet I still fell back to sleep even after that, waking a couple of times, having brief conversations with S. who set the alarm for eight thirty, which was when the carpet man was meant to arrive. We awoke from the alarm and I shot up and looked out the window and saw a man downstairs with an open trunk (boot) of his car so I ran down the five flights that feel like ten and let him in. And then I had to run up and get S. to come down as he was going to be soon blocking the stairwell; so I fetched her we went downstairs, found some yoghurt and a few blueberries to eat and planned our journey to Suffolk which entailed jumping in an car to catch a train from Liverpool Street station to Diss which is exactly what we are now doing.

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Here We Are

Cancer 21° (July 11)

 

Arrived London early this morning and hopped the Heathrow Express for Paddington in a daze. It couldn’t have been easier. Our bags were like the first two off the carousel; and there was nothing to do but scan our passports ourselves. Never have I moved so quickly through and out of an airport. I hadn’t eaten any dinner on the plane and forgot to order breakfast last evening but I did manage to have a late breaking tomato and mozzarella toastie before we landed. We needed no landing cards which feels new. Anyway we got into a black cab at Paddington and headed for Myddelton Square. M. was still at home which was a lovely surprise; he made us coffees and we sat in the garden for a few quality minutes before he had to head off to work. Dot was awake and we braved the stairs, me lugging our giant cases up one and a time. I forgot how many floors there are from the kitchen to the top of the house where our room was waiting—five—but each floor, the place has high ceilings, is connected to the next by a double set of steep landing, so it feels as if you’re climbing ten floors each time you make the full journey, which alsays turns out to be a lot.

We took naps and we headed out to Exmouth Market to find a healthy lunch. Now last time we were in New York City in May we stayed a night at the Jane Hotel and walking down Jane street we spotted Katy Kay from BBC America. No sooner had we entered into the market when, getting up from a lunch table was this older man in a business suit and a woman, dressed all in black, capri style pants and a shirt, with little black Keds like sneakers. I got a three-quarter glimpse of her face and was like it’s Katy Kay. Now I have a history of not being reliable when it comes to spotting celebrities (not that she’s a celebrity really) and it is a running joke dating back decades as I imagine notable people who aren’t. But this time I was sure so I darted ahead of her and her companion and did a one-eighty which she saw me do. It absolutely was her and she became self conscious and put on sunglasses but I did score a win in the people-spotting game.

After debating which of the dozen restaurants and food stands to alight upon we just ent to Gails, and old standby, and grabbed to containers of lentil salad with goat cheese and other things (which turned out to be more garlicky than anticipated) and two cucumber sodas which were pretty delicious to consume back at the house. The Brits do understand the value of a cucumber. Then the cleaner, who is called Fran (I was reminded later) came over for a short time, by cleaner standards, which was mainly used up by telling us all about her dog who was going blind. “She’s only seven,” is a line she repeated at least ten times. And we sat there, captive, eating, nodding while we learned the state ond fate of the lenses in her Jack Russel’s eyes. The dog was of course with her and had brought a tiny Wippet of a friend. Fran mentioned she would be coming back at eight-thirty the  next morning to let in a man who was to fix and also replace bits of the woven runner lining the entire length of aforementioned stair. S. excused herself to take a bath and I learned the entire sago fo the making of the rug and how much would have had to be orded just to replace a little bit of it but luckily they had found a leftover piece that could solve the problem instead of reordering another twenty-five yards of made to order weave. I thought to offer to meet the man but figured I’d better not get involved.

I went to the top to check on S. then back down to settle one flight above the lowest where Fran was knocking about. The dogs were in this first, not ground, floor where there is a desk I thought I’d use to catch up on a little writing (oh hi!). The blind Jack Russell was very sweet and easily shockable whenever her Wippet friend would jump up where she was trying to find a familiar spot on the low sofa in the salon; once at the desk the Wippet joined at my feet where there was a little carpety dog-beddy sort of thing, which actually belongs to the resident Jack Russell, Reg. The Wippet was casually trying to destroy the thing, rigoriously digging at it as if it were a patch of land. Fran reapparead and brought up the subject of the man that was coming eight thirty a.m. I finally took the bait and said, you know, I’m fine meeting the man if you have something you need to do. She did. She was going on a trip. After reassuring her that it was fine (she thinks my name is Ben and finally remembers having met me years ago when, downstairs, earlier, she was convinced she hadn’t, she agreed to let me meet the man and I was almost pleased that was allowing me this privilege. It was a very funny exchange and I was really laughing on the inside.

It was my turn to take a bath but I was in the discombulated state between projects (writing and unpacking and trying to feel human) and with rooms and floors and I couldn’t find a linear throughline. And I thought I heard voices. Real voices not mental voices. So I went back down and was greated on the landing by someone I assumed was one of the girl’s boyfriends out of whose mouth came: do you remember me, Freddy. I gave him a big hug. I have to explain that our friends have four kids and, on their mother’s side, alone, they have, let me see, fifteen cousins. And at any given time there is some niece or nephew either living or temporarily staying in this house or other. Not to mention, as I say, that the children, and the cousins, have boyfriends and girlfriends who could easily be taking up residence at any given time. Of all the fifteen I don’t know Freddie and his brothers very well so it was really lovely to see him and chat and I was happy to hear we were going to dinner with him. I think I’ll save the rest of this story for tomorrow.

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Off We Go

Cancer 20° (July 10)

 

S. went out on some appointments this morning and I stayed in the room. I didn’t even want a coffee. And then the absurd happened in that I fell back to sleep and she was knocking at 11am to get back into the room and I didn’t even hear her. So she had to go back down and get a key. Like I have some kind of sleeping sickness. Anyway we got packed up, checked out and left the bags, did a little shopping and decidedto have a proper lunch at La Loile, inside in the air conditioning. The French waiter asked if we were frenched which is always a compliment to our accents. I have a pretty lousy vocabulary but I can surely fake a good accent. S. had a salad of course and I got the moules frites and a small salad and we had a lovely bottle of red Sancerre slightly chilled topped off by a little cheese course.

Back at the hotel, bid everyone farewell, ordered a car and this lovely Ethiopian man picked us up. He told us the story of his coming to American, how he had two sons, one of whom had autism—he showed us a picture of him on his phone and he was an absolutely enormous ten year old. Anyway it was such a nice journey to Logan when it could have been the opposite. We tipped him twenty on top and projected our best intentions toward him. Check in was quick and easy but even so there was a moment where I’m in the little scanning tube with my hands over my head and the TSA agent has the nerve to bark at me: “pull your pants up.” I kept from splitting him a new infinitive. We beelined to the lounge which was very large and pretty stuffy. I didn’t even look at the buffet but people were stuffing there faces right and left. They had Coppola wine which wasn’t terrible and it paired nicely with the gummies I’d manage to sneak through.

Got on the plane had a single glass of champagne ordered dinner then never even ate it. I vaguely remember seeing a plate with salmon on it which they took away. I feel asleep and stayed asleep the entire time but for half-sleeping through about ninety minutes of turbulence in the middle. I just lay there flat on the bed bouncing away. I never even put on my blanket; nothing. I have never in my life been so completely out of it on a plane. I typically at least take advantage of the amenities in biz class and attempt to watch a film. None of that happened. (I am aware I am recounting pretty boring stuff here but I can’t really explore the world of ideas while traveling—I probably won’t be able to speak beyond the quotidien blow by blows until I’m settled in, if not in England, then next week once I reach the boat. But I will do my level best to acclimte as soon as possible.

 

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Season’s Reasons

Cancer 19° (July 9)

 

Actually took the bus right across the way to Provincetown to catch the ferry. It was late arriving but we got to the ferry in plenty of time. It was tolerable but I wouldn’t choose it as a favored mode of transport to be honest. I’m just about at the point where I will be able to focus on nothing else but the sample copy and the promotion of the festival and its fundraising. Things are definitely in a different position than they have been in the past but then again the whole world has gone crazy. I don’t think we would have ever imagined just how unhinged one fucked up president could make us all feel, that being the operative word. He is a Gemini in the worst imaginable form but all the adjectives used to describe him, and some of the verbs, too, are downright eery in their archetypal assignation. And it will feel good to escape a certain reality for awhile; there is some kind of marker about going away on significant trips. I will miss the Cape for sure all the while and I took a photo from our last beach walk to keep my mind sorted. Anyway the ferry was fine, the water calm as can be, but then we were rattled upon arrival.

It was very clear that she needed a “real taxi” so when we were approached and the beginning of the pier by a guy asking if we wanted one she very specifically asked are you a real taxi. His car did have writing on it and the whole taxi look but the authenticity would end there. Just about a block into the journey he started pushing the buttons on his meter saying that it wasn’t working and what did we want to do about it. I said we would give him ten bucks or something regardless as we were not prepared to get out of the taxi just on the onramp to 93, which was obviously the desired response. However he said it would be more like twenty. We just sort of said whatever and then he began huffing and puffing (at the traffic not at us) and cutting in and out of the crowded lanes and honking and we were like cool it right now. We managed to get to the hotel in one piece and then offered him twenty dollars. He held the bill in his hand while staring at us manaically as if to say it was not only not enough but that he was either on drugs or not right in the head. Unfortunately our usual bulldog of a doorman, Manny, was not there to play interference, but he started sort of threatening us and staring into S.’s wallet and it was seriously weird and uncomfortable. I should point out that at this point S. made it clear that he had no cab medallion, an accusation that he couldn’t defend. And in fact we were in a serious scam situation and really had been in some danger me thinks.

He continued to hold the bill out in front of us as if to say this is not enough when I lost it a little and just said okay you don’t want it? And I took the bill back. We then took a few photos of his car and his license plate and he was suddenly holding his hands up as if to say “you got me” and got back in his car but didn’t really leave. We then called the police but that was just a round about of leaving messages. Oh first S. called the taxi number on his car but that was just as scammy as the driver. Anyway it was not a big deal in the end but we were pretty shaken by the erratic driving mainly and the fact we felt unsafe. S. had to go off to an appointment and the room wasn’t ready so I headed to one of my favorite places just a block away the Cornish Pasty and had a nice chat with the boys there while they tried to fix the keg for half an hour to give me a draft beer that wasn’t totally flat like the first try. I got into a nice conversation with a fellow I hadn’t seen there before called Brandon who turned out to be (one of?) the owner. We talked about Michael Pollen and certain new breakthroughs and discoveries in psychology of which he was a student getting some kind of higher degree.

One thing he said was that it was discovered that birds’ brains are packed with neurons. Of course this immediately triggered a Gemini connection in that birds are archeypal of the sign and also the sign rules those firing neurons. Once again illustrating how the ancient Zodiac seems to know things in advance of scientific discoveries made millennia later. It was a fascinating chat all in all and he was talking about meeting this psychologist on the beach while collecting rocks and she was a specialist in rapid eye therapy. Anyway something about hearing that made me want to reach out and try and get some therapy on that score. I think because I’ve become something of a nervous driver (since the accident) I might benefit from something that treats post traumatic symptoms in this way. Anyway it was the first thing I’d heard of this sort that rung a bell. So the room was ready and I headed back and did a little bit of work and went for a walk in the air conditioned mall and strolled all the way to the Marriot and then back to Select to meet S. There was a couple waiting for the place to open as I was and we ended up chatting the three and then four of us. They are called Maria and Paul and we are definitely going to see them again. Maria has already texted S.

Back to the hotel I took a very quick nap and then we went down to have dinner with N. and G. I don’t know if it was the beer or the nap or a combination of both but I was in an “on” mood entertaining the troops (or hijacking the conversation depending on how you look at it). In any case it was a jolly evening for me and the food (at Uni) is bloody delicious and N. and G. really liked it and they got to meet our friends at the Eliot who take such good care of us and it was a lot of fun. And I was asleep early. I have been sleeping a lot lately. From the moment I got on the ferry actually I realized how tired I’ve been. I do tend to overwork this time of year but especially this season for some reason the hill feels more uphill and I do have this proposal and sample chapter weighing on me a bit as I try to keep the festival afloat and not have to sink all my own money into it while having written next year’s books and launched the tee-shirts with Tim and getting the new product, and all the spokes of doing so, into place. It is a lot.

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Give Me A V

Cancer 18° (July 8)

 

Stayed in and got a whole lot of last minute packing and so forth completed. Had hoped for a bit of fun but it was work, work, work. I’m actually really in need of this holiday more than I suspected. I’m planning on taking it very easy, starting with this work here right now. I have given up on the teethe whitening for now (and will actually forget to pack the mouthpiece bit). I am overpacking I know that but I hope in the end it will seem condensed. I’m also planning on throwing things away as I go. Trying to get all I can get booked before I head off. And I have to do a bit of writing, based on some past things I’ve said about the lovely Virgo woman. I start here:

Virgo with a V: In our book Sextrologythe she-Virgo chapter begins “And God created woman.” Drawing on her mutable-earthy Pandora archetype, Virgo woman seems designed to the specifications of someone seeking a lady stacked with feminine assets. In mythology, the cuckolded potter-god Hephaestus/Vulcan (married to Aphrodite/Venus who was getting busy with Ares/Mars while carrying a torch for Adonis) bakes up his own little sex-dolly out of clay, Pandora, with her infamous box. (It was actually a jar, a vessel). And we titled the Virgo woman chapter The Vesselbecause, like the sign’s Virgin holding that sheaf of grain, intent on separating the wheat (virtue) from chaff (vice), Pandora’s jar was filled with an equal mix of the same stuff. From a patriarchal standpoint, and a misogynist one, woman has been viewed as both a source of pleasure to be penetrated and one of the worlds ills. Mary Magdalene is sinner and saint. She too is the vessel. Especially if one thinks on her as the literal wife of Jesus and potential mother to his children. Blasphemy. She was a sacred harlot, like the Vestal virgins, sex and spirituality going hand in hand (or something in something) as it should. And so, without getting too into it, the Virgo woman personifies the feminine as such: An undulating object of lust who could be ones undoing. The Virgo motto is “I serve” which is misread as submissive or subservient (she can be ifit serves her). But like any good master-slave inversion, one typically finds oneself so dependent on the Virgo woman, whether for her love, devotion or mad skills in the sack, that she typically ends up holding all the power. Makes you rethink the image of the Virgin clutching that phallic sheaf in her tight, tender grip. And, blow me down, just look at these brick houses. Claudia Schiffer, Raquel Welch, Naomie Harris, Jaqueline Bisset, Pink, Beyoncé Knowles, Sophia Loren, Salma Hayek, Whitney Cummings, Joey Heatherton, Jennifer Hudson, Ingrid Bergman, Lauren Bacall, Yvonne DeCarlo, Padma Lakshmi, Peggy Lipton, Rachel Ward, Jennifer Tilly, Foxy Brown, Rebecca DeMornay, Jennifer Coolidge, Tuesday Weld, Shannon Elizabeth, Lea Michele, Cameron Diaz, Barbara Bach, Cassandra Peterson, Valerie Perrine, Fay Wray, Frances Farmer, Alotta Fagina (We imagine).

The virgin of Virgo is Kore, the maiden form of Earth mother-goddess Demeter, from whose name the word core is derived, a nod to the planet’s molten, shifting center, its fiery furnace. While Virgo man draws on the archetype of Hephaestus, god of that sizzling forge, Virgo woman personifies, yes, his little dolly, Pandora, meaning “all given”, whom the god gave the best features of all the goddesses, baking her out of clay in his divine kiln—Virgo is themutable-earth sign, highlighting tangible change. But Demeter herself was also called Pandora, here meaning “all giver.” Virgo woman acts as caretaker, little sister, especially to objects of her desire, playing den mother, a Wendy, to any number of lost, Peter Pan-complexed boys or domineering Peppermint Patties. She leans, learns and models herself on significant others, having her fun, and ultimately forging her own future. On the shadow side, she borrows too directly from others, appropriating their moves to the point of inappropriateness. She tends to secure a mature mate who’ll cherish her and to whose power and protection she is drawn, and from whom she pulls strength to grow and develop her own unique talents, skills and character, which she often then focuses on helping others in turn. Enter Peggy Guggenheim, Mary Shelley, Kitty Carlisle, Agatha Christie, Mother Theresa, Mother Seton, Cass Eliot, Margaret Sanger, Sylvia Fine, Geraldine Ferraro, Nan Goldin, Salma Hayek, Emmy Rossum, Melissa McCarthy, Amy Poehler, Blake Lively, Rosie Perez, Queen Noor, Queen Rania, Sonia Sanchez, Paula Jones, Ségolène Royal, Lea Michele, Joan Jett, Chrissie Hynde, Fionna Apple, Pink.

 

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

Out Of Austria

Cancer 17° (July 7)

 

So I did manage to get some new version of a book proposal out of my hands and into my agent’s. And we escaped the cranky swelter by hitting the beach for a swim. But when we got there it was so cool and breezy already that I didn’t even go into the water. I’m glad I didn’t actually because I woke up feeling very coldy today in any case. As we were making dinner the weather really shifted and the heavens opened up and we had a great downpour. I feel like I haven’t been in that kind of weather for a long time. It was really quite enjoyable. I have decided that FOMO when it comes to events in Provincetown is simply HOMO (hurt of missing out?). Too many frayed relationships in that town for me at this point. I know people (there) really enjoy that sort of thing, given it’s junior-high vibration, dissing and ditching people for certain epochs. Mainly the Aquarian and Scorpio people, but also the Taurus too. Hey maybe it’s a fixed-sign thing. I don’t know enough Leos, really, to add them to the list. They mainly just become loners and eschew everyone and everything. Anyway I did get some version into the agent and that was the main point of this day. And we had a lovely shrimp cocktail outside before the heavens opened up and we had a wonderful salmon dinner and then rented For Your Consideration which was wonderful to see again. Our friend PP is so good in it.

JW beamed in today says Stella and it looks like we will be enjoying the pleasure of her company after all which is great. I think S has also arranged to get some Cricketwear for our friend before we head to Corfu. I cannot wait for this trip I must be honest but I do feel like I’m a little behind the eightball today (not really) in terms of getting my chores done. I would actually like to start writing tomorrow and make some major headway on that score. And I suppose tonight would be the best time to really get the festival promotion cooking. I’m going to have just a couple of dry days today and tomorrow and let evaporate some of the excess bloat from the wine. Once I tackle this sample chapter I am going to feel so chill for the rest of the year. I think we will do the exact same show as last year and just have all new guests. And we need some good photos. That is definitely on the grand to-do list.

Someone I know posted this on social media:

I am at an interesting crossroads in my life. I wonder am I going to take a new path or are all my paths leading to one path… Some parts of me are feeling like things are coming together and other parts of me are wondering if it is time to make radical change. As Albert Einstein once said the definition of insanity is doing the same things over and over and expecting different results. That being said I also think if you keep doing what make you most alive and happy that you will find a way to thrive… 

I think it is most important to redefine what thriving actually is. For many this means thriving monetarily. But I want to be sure I am thriving emotionally, creatively and spiritually. Thriving for me means finding peace and bliss regularly. It means living in a state of trust that all is in some kind of Divine Order. I hope to simultaneously know that I do not need anything to find peace and at the same time know our actions can create situations that can help us to fulfill our mission and make the world a better and more beautiful place for everyone…

Sounds about right…..Anyway here is more of what I didn’t use in my proposal:

In our philosophy, true desire and divine callings are two parts of a whole seeking connection. The former resides within us and the latter comes from the universe. We like to say that our desires are a bit of real estate the universe owns inside us. Desire and destiny-callings do seem to share the same quality of urging us in a direction that isn’t necessarily of our conscious choosing. It is said that many are called but few answer; and why is that? Because it’s daunting—even though that call is only ever coming from inside the house, mostly deep within our subconscious, a word often paired with desire. It’s as if that bit of real-estate starts blinking or glowing—like E.T.’s heart light—drawing us “home” to fulfill said calling. Swallowing our true desires only increases their pressure on us, which can be intense. And yet, to spout another cliché, most of us lead a life of quiet desperation. Which is just a poetic way of saying not going for the gold, the brass ring, or whatever you want to call what it is you wanted—your true purpose—before life got in the way. I didn’t choose that longing, that desire, after all, one tries to convince oneself, never truly succeeding. It’s just ego. Is it? We think it’s rather more egotistical to go against the grain of that desire cum destiny, we maintain has been divinely seeded in you. But hey, who are we? We’re Starsky + Cox that’s who and we’re here to tell you George Eliot was right in saying—yes, another platitude—”it’s never too late to become what you might have been.” And, truth be told, more than anything, our work with private clients is hinged on setting people on the path of true desire toward fulfillment of that destined purpose; and together we have found that even progressing just a little ways up that path is more rewarding than the slam-dunk achievement of goals and awards that appear monumental on the outside, but hold no real value for us, inside. Spirituality is, by definition: the quality of being concerned with the human spirit. And though we are humanistic astrologers, those who deal in the development of the individual, right here on terra firma; we nonetheless embrace a transpersonal approach that includes fostering the individual’s relationship to (their own) divinity. In so doing, it is key to help our clients and our readers mete out what are their true desires from the endless yearnings of their body and our overactive, conditioned, brainwashed minds. In addition to astrology, this is where sex comes in.

The one thing about all of us that tends to be pure in its expression is that which turns us on sexually, whether or not we reveal that fully, or in part, to others. And, just like those destiny callings we are wont to ignore, many people try to put down certain sexual desires which they feel might bring them shame, embarrasment, isolation, ostricization or loss. They suppress, they repress. Compounded pressure: To the human subconscious a stifled desire is a stifled desire—it doesn’t distinguish between the repression of a sexual longing or a “spiritual” one—we use quotation marks here to underscore the fact that a true desire or purpose or destiny calling is that quality within us concerned with our spirit or, by another term, our soul. There we said it: Soul. Soul, soul, soul. It sounds so religious a thing when, really, it’s just a little word to name the boundless, non-material, wholly energetic (therefore immune to creation or destruction), eternal aspect of our being. And okay, we admit it: we’re also esoteric astrologers, those concerned with the evolution of the soul over lifetimes; but if we led with that you mightn’t have read this far. In truth, we never put too fine a point on this in our private practice, let alone in our books. It’s a backdrop belief—reincarnation—still any formally trained astrologer worth their salt would have learned to read people’s charts from this esoteric, soul perspective. Which can be mind blowing. But we were talking about sex; we tend to conflate it with spirituality…

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

As Blazes

Cancer 16° (July 6)

 

I’m in a foul mood. It’s all to do with my work which is simply not going well. But I will persevere and get something, anything, finished today. Unlike most people, I really never take any time off and that does take its toll on a person I suppose. It is also ungodly hot. Anyway I’m going to just make a few cuts to a document I’m playing with and put some of these bits I’m not using today here and call it a day:

A benchmark of our philosophy and work, and what has registered most poignantly with our readers is that: the various archetypes that we’ve come to personify as mythical deities, spiritual and literary characters also live in us. Or rather, we are living personifications of them.  Each sign has main and ancillary archetypes—male, female and transgender energies cum characters—native to it. And we, the people, born under the various sun-signs are suffused with these spirits, these thought-forms, these energies, these deities, endemic to our star signs. We are, indeed, endowed with their specific brands of godhead, what we have referred to, herein, as “super powers”, particular to each of the gender-signs.  The mythic stories of these beings are metaphor for our human conditions and life paths, the hero’s journey, if you will. The Leo man hero is not the Virgo man hero nor the Virgo woman hero, for that matter. In some cases, one sign’s hero skill-set is another sign’s shadow-side manifestation, a challenge to be overcome.

 

In addition, and directly related, to these powerful archetypes are the innumerable other astrological assignations specific to each signfor instance: the specific combination of a sign element (fire, earth, air or water) and quality (cardinal, fixed or mutable), the fourelements times three qualities forming the element-quality mixes unique to each sign. There is a vast wealth of knowledge to glean from that combination alone and, knowledge being what it is, this too becomes a source of personal power, motivation and direction for the reader.  Other factors that provide us great insight into the personalities are the sign’s planetary ruler, the sign number, the astrological house—it alone has a laundry list of attributes—the sign’s graphic glyph, the seven-year age span associated with the sign, the sign’s and planet’s rulership of organic and inorganic objects and entities—the list of attendant attributes is probably endless, and we will pick and choose appropriately in support of both our treatise and the reader’s understanding, absorption and progressive transformation. We will thereby help and guide the reader in a healthful process of personal evolution comprised of and/or mirrored in an increase of self-acceptance, easeful relationships, social productivity, creative passion, personal value (and wealth), psychological understanding, emotional connectivity, hunger for knowledge, ownership of authority, compassion and love. We spotlight and explore the individual’s gifts and assets as well as their traps and challenges, providing specific direction for accentuating the former and negotiating the latter so that the momentum of one’s experience can be optimized, obstacles discarded, distractions and detractors silenced, and destiny callings made clearly perceptible.

In our view, much of why any of us feel the way we do—experiencing our own individual brands of existential angst or exaltation, and our own swing between them—is arguably due to our sun-sign placement and the archetype we personify at our core. Our view of life, our goals, our relationship to the world, to nature, to society-at-large and the world of ideas, to our own thoughts and experiences, and to other people, emotionally, is not as much colored by our astrological assignation as it is the color by which our life is coded. And while we’re on the subject of colors: Each sign is actually associated with not just one but a set of colors, a seemingly trivial fact, like a sign’s correspondent birth stone or precious metal, something people generally know, with the seeming importance ending there. It doesn’t. For it is the relevant vibration of colors and of those buzzy minerals that the zodiac is really pointing to with these particular points of fact per sign. And it’s true with most if not all astrological assignations; they go deeper than face value, and we’ve done the digging. What we’ve come up with is the belief that the breadth of ones feelings and behaviors are in large part, if not entirely, determined by the estate of one’s star sign. Someone might raise their hand here and say, well, what about conditioning, the early-childhood variety or the ongoing form. To that we counter thusly: We don’t know why it is true—and we can never explain it—but from our experience, both nature and nurture seem to be encoded in ones astrology—in our sessions with private clients we can perceive and pinpoint with accuracy, down to the year, the occurrence of a pivotal event which caused a trauma or a rupture or an emotional hit of some kind for the individual. Likewise, in more general terms, we can survey the kinds of emotional and psychological trials, tribulations and, yes triumphs, that an individual of a certain sex/gender-sign is likely to encounter, with certain specificity. We spoke of flowers before, now we’ll talk of trees:  Every plant, really, is governed by a particular sign and they share qualities and purposes with people born under it, offering insight into our temperament and actions, not to mention directions for the pruning of our experience to foster the most growth. (Expect a sidebar on this theme in this section.) We are all natural things. Supernatural, perhaps.

 

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
Copyright 2019 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2019 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox

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