Virgo 17° (September 8)
Went to beach for walk but they have extended the season sticker situation and so we had the wrong car—went for walk in town instead. I still couldn’t bring myself to work, a momentary block, but I didn’t just watch mindless TV. I decided at least I could educate myself today so I viewed a four-part series on the Wars of the Roses and then The Story of Europe, which is narrated by this historian in a bowtie. So at least I’m not now terribly depressed. I drafted what was in my head yesterday regarding the farmer and his antics. So at least that is out of my brain and into a file which is part of the process in all of this. My plan is to take a huge breath and deep dive over the next three months to get most of this book drafted. I also have a plan in mind for real estate which we will begin focus on next Fall. I don’t believe we will be in theaters by next year either. This is just my suspicion; and so I will keep things moving on that score as best I can. All told we should plan an excursion north for the month of September of next year and be prepared to be away for a minimum two weeks; that is if all goes well this year—we just have that hump to get over. Anyway, the whole idea of pasting all the past text below is that I don’t need to do more than check in here. I am going to use everything I have and start throwing and giving things away with some rapidity. Time does fly and sometimes that’s not a bad thing. It would be quite nice to retire fully in the coming years. Then again, we first need to have a democracy to rely upon. I am concerned the blob won’t go. We need a miracle end to him, some well-directed divine intervention to rid ourselves of this problem.
The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of Blagues, nos. 811-815. 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.
If this morning is any indication then the Full Thunder Moon tonight , just after midnight, is going to be s w e e p i n g…….Moon in Sagittarius a sign ruled by Jupiter, named for the chief god who is armed with lightning and thunderbolts; a mutable-fire sign befitting that fire in the sky synonymous with flashes of genius on one hand and the devastation of excess on the other.
You may have noticed from the previous post that I have been having an issue, without naming names. But, in case I do need a pro bono lawyer, the publication of that last Blague will serve as a reminder to me of what has been going down. I’d like to think people are stupid rather than cruel, but I suppose both states of mind come under the heading of thoughtless.
It’s boring being right all the time. And the good one, so-called, who does everything thoughtfully and thoroughly and ever in consideration of how it affects others. It’s so much work being constantly forgiving. Few people take into account the collateral destruction of their moves. I’m tired of always picking up some sword of righteousness, I really am. Shadiness is an effect, even, when it’s not an intention.
Anyway the atmosphere feels thick. Where we live there are chickens—two coops in fact, divided by age group. The older hen house is currently going nuts. One time last year they screamed like this and a fox had taken one of them. That doesn’t seem the situation today. And they are all inside, not out in the pen so I can’t tell what’s up. And I don’t care. They are annoying and they make me sad. I hate the treatment of any animal as I thing. I can tell, even from the way they wish to interact with me on any given day, that they are sensitive and if not intelligent still sentient beings. Right now, though, I wish they’d just shut the fuck up.
I think there is something in the ether, though, all said. There is a tension in the air. Can you feel it? No because you’re not reading this. Nobody is. Someday someone might discover my Blague, or maybe I’ll even promote it, at some point but I really do have enough on my plate right now.
Sorry folks I deleted the last post apparently I don’t know what month it is. So Moon in Capricorn not Sagittarius. Mars and Sun are conjunct opposing a conjunct of Moon and Pluto. That’s intense. Mars is pure directive energy named for the war god, it is survival of the fittest, competitive, aggressive. We might all be feeling ourselves. Pluto Moon spells transformation on a deep emotional and psychological level. Pluto, named for the god of death and the underworld, symbolic of the subconscious, signals endings which are only ever regenerations. That means our relationships to experience—work, creative projects, rituals and, yes, relationships themselves—are changing, such that you won’t feel the same as you did before about some things. People, places, things may be knocked off pedestals and Self-Reliance becomes the theme of the weekend.
Identity issues are playing a big part today. Beware of being co-dependent. For me that means being mindful to not be too forgiving. I really am a pushover when it comes to sincere emotions. If someone is contrite, even though they may’ve done me wrong, I find it hard not to soften. I suppose it’s simpler that way; in some ways; not all. But it never adds up to anything positive to voice your opinions in certain situations; people can hold a grudge against you for magnanimously pointing out grievous errors, even those for which, say, if you were to sue, you’d win. But the squeaky wheel doesn’t always get oiled. Sometimes it gets removed and replaced with a new one.
In my dream I was hurtling through space in a craft experiencing a heightened sense of what I usually experiece in an airplane hinged on the question, “how the hell does this thing stay up in the air.” I think it most relates to a recent flight I took in Belize in a very small plane with a pilot like a Sumo wrestler. Every time he shifted his weight which he did every thirty seconds the plane would make this jolt to one side. But back to the spacecraft. I kept watching the controls. And it was such a lonely feeling being up there, just zooming through space. You couldn’t even look at the window it was just a blur, which doesn’t make sense, but none of this does. I kept wondering why we hadn’t, or why we wouldn’t end up hitting, an asteroid or something. How can we chart every object? And the craft was surely small.
I suppose, with the projects I create, I do feel like I’m hurtling forward, and, at times, out of control which isn’t the funnest of feelings. I have to work very hard to ground myself or at least to not feel as if the projects are flying me instead of me it. Funny how on the days you least expect it you can get some pretty grand ideas. Now, truth be told, as a Libra, I get a thousand great ideas a week, a good number of them surely worthy of some life pursuite, whether what shop should open locally, to what screenplay would make a great film. But I’m only one person with one lifetime.
My best ideas come when I walk away. Which, when you live near one of the world’s most beautiful beaches, a heady expanse of sand and sea, particularly at low tide, the two mile walk in that setting is certainly conducive. Walking away, trying to shake out the tension of mounting work, though, ironically, always inspires more projects to put on some grand plate in the multi-course banquet of creative ideas.
What I really didn’t know about Wellfleet was how yah it really was. The town has always been the hippy chic character on the Cape where each town has it’s own personality. Wellfleetians, the yearround ones, are really their own breed. They have names like Josiah and Caleb and Nathaniel and other such old-testament monikers that match a place near where those pilgrims first landed. Their are families whose female ancesters had the honorific Goody attached to their names. It’s like that. In the fifties, sixties and seventies (and eighties probably), Wellfleet seemed to be the Cape town distinguished by attracting a Jewish intelligentia which is still in evidence. Jewish surfers with PhDs? Wellfleet is hub of that universe.
I’ve been going to the beach most days early in the morning and the roads through the woods out to the wild ocean are filled with joggers and cyclists and other type-A personalities, hardly any cars. These active folk are everywhere and make Wellfleet seem so much more well-heeled than one might have originally imagined.
There are many boat, if not yacht people, and many right-wingers in so lefty and kibutzy a place. They are loud and boisterous because their boats aren’t as big as they wish they were. Anyway, we’ve been keeping Sirius radio’s Yacht Rock on, initially, for the novelty. But also they play some great songs and some bad ones too. There are the de rigeur Christopher Cross songs and ninety-nine percent of all songs seem to include Michael McDonald singing back up or side melodies.
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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