Libra 23° (October 15)
Today felt quite dark and weird. I am making tiny bits of progress but nothing super fantastic to write home about. I have to get my brain in super resolve mode. I have questions for our lawyer which I have started writing out. I have a mock response (mainly for our own venting purposes) which will probably go on the same heap as the back-pocket bits we edited out of the last letter to him. I have to turn this into motivation. I know I can do it I just need to prime the pump a bit. It is all terribly doable. I have all the time I need to make this happen. But I cannot quite yet shake the sadness. I know none of this is my fault, that it is the result of some poor choices, and that I really must find a way to move through this time and let myself be guided. It is indeed a challenge as sometimes it feels like there is no place to go. I have to stop the weird and wild searching as it is getting me absolutely nowhere. I have one mission and that is to try and work out some kind of compromise. If I play my cards absolutely right I will be through the process in a fairly meaningful way by the ned of January and then I will need twelve weeks to really make the drafts sizzle. That means the end of April. It is in his best interest to make some kind of deal I think. Mediation is something we will surely look into. As well, we will look into selling things off in a meaningful way. I am going to try my damnest to make this a very good time.
The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of Blagues, nos. 991-995. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.
The sign of the Waterbearer has a number of classical, biblical and literary archetypes associated with it. On the female side, we see many an inspirational figure, from the cup-bearing goddess of youth, Hebe, to Rebecca at her well, to Galadriel from Tolkien’s Middle Earth—whether or not he consciously linked her, etymologically, to Galahad, of holy grail (water bearer) fame, is anyone’s guess. But let’s stick to the classic: Before being replaced by Zeus’ boy toy Ganymede, the job of dispensing the nectar of the gods belonged to Hebe. As goddess of youth, she is one and the same with the rejuvenating nectar she pours out. Hebe is the maiden-form of her “mother” Hera, who, along with her anagramm\atical mother Rhea-Cronos (crone aspect), forms a specific aggregate of triple goddess. Hera is the Sagittarius archetype, Rhea the Capricorn one, and now we follow those signs with Aquarius, which claims the recycled goddess Hebe as its own. She is married off to Heracles (meaning: beloved of Hera), a mortal made god by this love match. He married up. Hebe thus takes the form of a descending goddess, like Iris, Hera’s messenger, goddess of the rainbow who travels down her colorful path to bring the “good news” to mankind, another dispenser of divine joy. In the Tarot, the Star card depicts the Waterbearer. Makes sense: Aquarius and Leo are so-called astrological opposites, that is, higher setae of each other ad infinitum, spiraling upward through the zodiac. Leo is associated with our star, the Sun; while Aquarius portrays another Sun, far out. Stella (Star) in A Street Car Named Desire is this Aquarian archetype wedded to the palpably mortal, brutish, if not Herculean, Stanley with whom, in a nod to Iris’s rainbow, she would get those colored lights a-spinning. So we celebrate the far-out Aquarius woman, starlit from within, with her outsized ancient noggin plopped atop an ever youthful body, bringing inspiration to we mere mortals. She can indeed be a bobble-headed beauty, like Tweety Bird, eternally bright-sided, uplifting, and rather impervious to any catty detractors in her midst. Think of the universally outspoken, progressive and inspiring likes of Oprah Winfrey, Ellen Degeneres, Sara Gilbert, Yoko Ono, Alice Walker, Germaine Greer, Rosa Parks, Laura Ingalls, Carson McCullers, Elizabeth Bishop, Toni Morrison, Colette, Alice Walker, Mia Farrow, Vanessa Redgrave, Carol Channing, Amy Tan, Stella Adler and, on the shadow side—we all have one: Ayn Rand, Sarah Palin, Paris Hilton, Eva Braun.
When Mick Jagger sang, “she’s like a rainbow” he was likely referring to an Aquarian lass. Again Iris, goddess of the rainbow, is one of the classic descending goddesses that portrays the Aquarius woman archetype. She watered the clouds with her pitcher and brought divine inspiration to mortals from the gods. Also, just like the god Mercury, namesake for the planet, which is “exalted” in the sign of Aquarius, Iris carries a caduceus staff and bears wings. But we do see her shadow side in mythology in that she has a nemesis, an evil twin, called Arke, whose own wings are iridescent, who betrayed the Olympian gods, siding with their enemy Titans. Enter the biblical figure of Salome, female counterpart to the biblical water bearer, John the Baptist: Her dance of the seven veils—one for each color of the Roy G. Biv—is, like the rainbow itself, a beckoning beyond the veil of material illusion, terrestrial life, to experience reveal-ation, and communion with the divine. Whether through revelation or ascension or death this will be achieved. But, as that story suggests, the Aquarius woman can make others lose their head. The Zodiac’s elusive star can inspire us to heights to lofty too reach and from which we can easily fall from grace. Or is it that we project our greatest hopes and wishes on this gorgeous girl guru failing to realize that despite the natural upliftment she provides, she is flesh and blood and, given her soaring spirit, is that much more in need and in search of grounding. Here some more beautiful, humanitarian, bobble-heads: Laura Dern, Natalie Dormer, Jennifer Aniston, Elizabeth Banks, Christina Ricci, Heather Graham, Molly Ringwald, Ida Lupino, Tallulah Bankhead, Amy Tan, Laura Ingalls. And
Mena Suvari, Emma Bunton, Heather Graham, Mischa Barton, Charlotte Rampling, Sheryl Crow, Portia DeRossi, Isla Fisher, Emma Roberts, Rosamund Pike, Elizabeth Olsen, Kerry Washington, Tiffani Thiessen, Jane Seymour, Princess Caroline, Princess Stephanie, Brandy Norwood, Amber Valletta, Zhang Ziyi, Shakira, Diane Lane, Mia Kirshner, Minnie Driver, Christie Brinkley, Kelly Rowland and Farrah Fawcett.
Just as the sign of Aquarius, the Waterbearer, ushers us into Pisces, so too does the Aquarian archetype of John the Baptist, the Waterbearer, prepare (ye) the way for Pisces archetype, Jesus, the quintessential Fish. Aquarius represents revelation, glimpses of the future, truth and potential joy—men of the sign being notoriously lost in their visions—whilst Pisces man, in perpetual Jesus mode, represents a sustained drifting, like one in a lucid dream, personifying the perennial state of Nirvana, the “true reality” lodged beyond the veil of illusion which characterizes our material life in the visible, tangible world. That old chestnut. In Sextrology, the Pisces Man chapter is indeed entitled The Drifter. More than any other individual, Pisces treats existence as one big womb of potentiality in which he floats toward desired goals without the efforting or struggle that most of us exhibit. His life is one long process of incubation whereby his goal is to remain peaceful, if not pacified by others, most notably, strong-willed partners or lovers, who help pilot his life while cleaving to him as some sort of life saver, spiritual or otherwise. The metaphor of Jesus walking on water illustrates Pisces’ ability to be buoyed by his belief that the universe provides the perfect unfolding of his destiny. There is thus no need to stress. Life goes on equally within and without you. At least that seems to be the message of flow personified by the vibrationally itinerant Pisces male. Here: a list of pretty, Jesus-y and, some, messiah-complexed drifters: Jack Kerouac, George Harrison, Jake Bugg, Peter Fonda, James Taylor, Kurt Cobain, Roger Daltry, Emile Hirsch, Peter Berg, Jon Bon Jovi, Victor Garber, Ricky Wilson, Common, Johnny Cash, Johnny Knoxville, James Blunt, Matthew Gray Gubler, Ja Rule, Micky Dolenz, Rudolf Nureyev, Vaslav Nijinsky, Lou Reed and, ugh, L. Ron Hubbard.
In truth, you Pisces men fall into two categories, George Harrisons or Rex Harrisons, though sometimes the twain shall meet in fastidious activists like Harry Belafonte or Ralph Nader. Pisces, the mutable-water sign (think fog and mists, elements of illusion and enchantment) is ruled by Neptune, the planet of fantasy, magic, imagination, delusion and dissolution. As such, Pisces men are endowed with the power to fully inhabit their fantasy selves, dissolving from their make-up any traits, or, from their story, any truths that run counter to their romanticized vision of self. The sign of Pisces thus boasts a host of Peter Perfects—in counterpart to Pisces women embodying Penelope Pitstop—fancy fussbudgets whose often rough and humble origins bely their aristocratic airs and high-brow raison d’êtres. The lock-jawed George Plimpton, David Niven, Tony Randall, Jim Backus, Rex Harrison, Peter Graves, Rob Lowe, Mitt Romney, Pierce Brosnan, Kyle Maclachlan, Kelsey Grammar, French Stewart, Ron Howard and others you would never label a bad boy: John Barrowman, James Van Der Beek, Bret Easton Ellis, Robert Sean Leonard, Tim Daly, Chris Martin, Freddie Prinze, Jr., Chris Klein, Barry Bostwick, Michael Bolton, Josh Groban, the Ken doll “Ken Carson”, Mr. (Fred) Rogers and Anthony Daniels, (Star Wars’ c3p0) all seem programmed for proper protocol, on screen and off. Ironically, Pisces little-Lord-Fauntleroys often go for ribald love objects with a blatant sexuality, while Pisces’ signature priggish airs can make their own seem indeterminate.
And here, a subject we touched upon in Sextrology: Although there is no “reason” we can cite that would make this theory true, the empirical evidence suggests that, over the last century especially, more African American Pisces men have “broken through” the racial barrier, even at times in our regretful history when doing so would seem impossible. Perhaps it has something to do with Pisces’ power of Belief; or it’s due the Neptunian cosmic energy of dissolution, liquefying said barriers, as befits this mutable-water sign; or it’s chalked up to the archetypal energy of men of the sign who embody a compassionate, pacifistic Christ-like nature and a super-natural nobility of spirit. (It would be all of the above) And, while there is no real way to know; we shall simply let the following list of Pisces men illustrate the point: Frederick Douglass, Garret Morgan, William H. Johnson, Harry Belafonte, Sidney Poitier, Nat King Cole, Ralph Elison, Fats Domino, Smokey Robinson, Quincy Jones, Charley Pride, Al Jarreau, Wilson Pickett, Marion Barry, Emmanuel Lewis, Spike Lee, Charles Barkley, Terence Trent D’Arby, D.L. Hughley, Seal, Shaquille O’Neal, Stedman Graham, Terrence Howard, Lester Holt, Common, John Boyega.
Just as Pisces man draws on the fishy archetype of Jesus, Pisces woman is a big Mary. The sign is ruled by Neptune, whose symbol is a trident, originally that of the triple goddess, akin to the Celtic shamrock or the gnostic lily or fleur-de-lis. Biblically, there are three Marys—the mother Mary, the virgin (sacred harlot) Mary Magdalene and that elusive, etheric one who seems to pop in and out only at crucial moments, like the crucifixion and resurrection. Taken together, she is the great goddess in triplicate, akin to to the Great Goddess of the Sea, Aphrodite, curiously also called Mari. Mary’s della robbia blue gown fringed in white is the sea fringed with foam, that primordial mutable-water Piscean froth from whence Aphrodite emerged. Indeed the two Pisces “Fish” of the zodiac are the totems of Aphrodite and her son Eros. Eros is love, Jesus is love. And just as Pisces man’s sexuality can put the ishy in fishy, Pisces woman tends to take up with guys who are a bit light in their loaves and fishes, if not as lovers than as platonic soul mates. We often cite Tennessee William’s Blanche du Bois, an incarnation of the medieval Blanchefleur (who rocks that fleur-de-lis) as the modern emblem of the Pisces woman. She is forever remerging from her bath, creating Neptunian enchantment, reeling from her Belle Reve and looking to share a cherry pop with some pretty young thing barely out of short pants. Likewise, the personality of the female Pisces, the Everywoman of the zodiac, runs the gamut from fantastical diva to tragic dame-on-the-verge, from sacred lover to sacrificial killer. And for this, and so many other reasons, we are enraptured by the likes of Nina Simone, Elizabeth Taylor, Kathy Ireland, Sharon Stone, Tammy Faye Baker, Tamar Braxton, Glenn Close, , Christine Ebersole, Laura Pepon, Chelsea Handler, Patsy Kensit, Theresa Russell, Rue MacClanahan, Eryka Badu, Liza Minelli, Elis Regina, Nancy Wilson, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Anaïs Nin, Patty Hearst, Bernadette Peters, Tyne Daly, Lynn Redgrave, Anna Magnani, Rihanna, Ursula Andres, Queen Latifah, Irene Cara, Isabelle Huppert, Eva Mendes, Eva Longoria, Eva Herzigova, Meow Meow, Drew Barrymore, Dakota Fanning, Rashida Jones, Bernadette Peters, Connie Britton, Dana Delany, Vanessa Williams, Kristin Davis, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Julie Walters, Sandy Duncan, Juliette Binoche, Sharon Stone, Ellen Page, Emily Blunt, Veronica Webb and Sophie Turner.
In a cartoon echo of the seemingly perfect Pisces woman archetype, to which Blanche du Bois pretends in low light, smoke and mirrors, Penelope Pitstop might be considered a modern figurative incarnation of this most profound of water signs, another echoing of the eternally sought-after but insouciant goddess of love, Aphrodite. Both Blanche and Penelope would have you believe she is the ideal woman, pure in thought and deed—a proclivity that is also particular to the Pisces woman, who may be loath to admit she can be as much a pit stop as she is, at least, a pretense of a prude. But that’s the Pisces paradox. She’s at once rarified and raunchy. Think of that other, golden girl Blanche character that a Pisces actress embodied so brilliantly on TV. Blanche—white—pure as the driven snow. Or is that snow incessantly plowed? It’s this very combination of personality traits that makes Pisces woman the most dramatic of creatures and, if we may say so, a most beloved character by the queer if not general population. She is all about sexuality and spirituality, the gutter and the stars, those opposite facing Fish of her sign pointing upward toward heaven and downward into the very depths of earthly delight. In French the world for that pure white creamy sea foam is écume which one and the same for the word scum or, as the myth of her birth from the god Uranus suggests, the same word minus the s. So let’s hear it once again for the Pisces diva, as sometimes tragic and utterly triumphant as a lady can be!
Why do I so often come up bits of writing that I remember getting down on paper with the intention of making it so clear to myself only to stare at the paper blankly usually totally unclear as to what it is I wanted to say to myself. Case in point I come up something that I think is championing the notion that we could both be “writer-speakers”, me on my Blague trip and she on her Baroness trip and quite easily do some storytelling.
The “branding of the Blague” if you will is predicated on the notion that things often do seem to sparkle with some kind of stardust that is sprinked on experience, if not punctuating it, and in the extreme causing some major synchronicities. Like the other night for the first time ever in my life I called Stella “Moose” as a pretend would-be nickname (just taking the piss and trying to tease and make her laugh). Then I turned on TCM which was showing “Pillow Talk” in hopes it would make us sleepy. We both closed our eyes while on low volume Rock Hudson was pretending to Tony Randall that the woman he was with was also some kind of beast (she wasn’t, she was Doris Day whom he fancied) and he called her a Moose. We were both like WHAT?
Anyway I was talking about taking stock of existing monologues and see if we couldn’t Sedaris this shit.
I fell off the axis again, ever so slightly. Then again, grr, I never take a break. I’m so all or nothing as they say. And I was keeping up such a ridiculous schedule and so forth that I had to basically take to my bed for a week, just doing the minimum, to get through unavoidable commitments and deadlines. As I write this I realize that I’m even hard on myself when I’m pampering myself…no that’s not right, it wasn’t pampering…i mean to instead say: when indulging my exhaustion and not pushing myself…yes, that’s better.
If anything this tired old boy has got to figure out to not work so hard. Being, for the large part, in the helping-other people biz, I’m used to the giving nature of my enterprise which isn’t, purely “scaleable” as the more type-A kids say. And on top of that I do wear a great many hats. I look very much forward to the day when “all things come together” which I think might be the ongoing outcome of living that life of unfolding I’ve been talking about these last several years. I am sure I’m not the only one to come upon that visualization, but it is a good one. For me, abundance needs to be included in the blooming process. See what I did there?
Anyway today that is what I was visualizing as I pulled my daily Tarot card and of course I got the Ace of Cups, which, visually, take on an overflowing, spilling pattern which is exactly like that which I was tracing with my arms as I pulled the card. All aces are about new beginnings and this one especially points to a promising time. It’s about being filled with spirit and signals fortune which must be met with an attitude of gratitutde. I’ll take all of it!
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.
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