Pisces 20° (March 10)

Only ten days until Spring. And thirty till Happy Anny. Which we will celebrate on a Friday, so still got a nice span of time for kickstarting. I must say I’m ready. Today, I turn to another sign. Oy. It is never easy but I think it can get easier. We shall see. I’m missing a certain seventies sensation, for some reason summed up in a “hi-hi” from Phyllis Lindstrom. I aim to isolate the superpowers of the sign in such a way as to make this book very active. I will outline some things to add to the end of Gemini woman; and I will reacquaint myself with the Cancer man experience so to get that motor running. I know I’m facing a bit of an abyss right now and I don’t think it has ever been so hard to pull myself back, but pull I must. Percival, Heracles, Osiris, etc. Blanchefleur reveals mystic meanings of chivalry. I don’t think I’m going crazy. I’m terribly sick of the monarchy. And I could use a tiny hit and just lie down for the rest of the day. I made egg drop soup for lunch, my best ever. My hair is clean and curly. I have genuine love and genuine sadness. I am making a grilled romaine Caesar with shrimp, which I need to marinate thanks for reminding me, you are welcome. It’s like giving birth every day to write a book but I asked for it and I got it. I did manage to touch base with orthopedic guy—something has definitely got to give on that score. It’s going to be what it’s going to be today and yet I am feeling optimistic.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my Blagues, nos. 1711-1715. 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.

S. came back from her night away. I couldn’t bring myself to eat a single bite and won’t have anything until we go to P + M for dinner where I will drink sparkling water and eat a single helping. We are surprised when Rose and James arrive because we were expect Dolce e Gabana to enter the sitting room instead. We are listening to jazz on the turntable and folks are drinking beer and wine. I feel shaky and not just metaphorically. Rose likes Boris Johnson and I am shocked. She was among the originals who came to LLB’s party where I worked in the Marais, in Paris, at Dizzy Place, not the Dizzy Place or Dizzy’s Place but Dizzy Place in 1986. The LLB’s are threatening to recreate that evening to some degree. If so I will go in drag. S. had a bag at P + M’s which she fetched and then forgot. I am also to blame for this which is actually reasonable. We are spending a lot of money. But I am trying not to focus too much on that right now. Everything is changing and I must learn to let it. I am a total asshole of this I am certain. I also know that not everything is my fault. That said I can do better. Way better. I’m looking forward to the change finally, which is weird given the fact I’m so bereft on this day. Something has broken but I think it was meant to do so. I need to focus on some action items. The apartment situation is really loud and I will address that in a letter. I’m sad and lonely but I must forge on. There are real friends now to be found and we will figure all that out. We have a meeting next week about product with the LLBs and I very much look forward to that, even though it is at an inconvenient time. Meetings must be taken. And now some more thoughts on things astrological;

As mentioned in a recent post the classic female “water bearer” was Hebe, cupbearer to the gods, who poured out their divine nectar. The daughter of Zeus and Hera, Hebe means youth; which is a word often synonymous with the future, as in the tuneful “I believe the children are our future.” The real future, along with science fiction, fall under the rulership of the Aquarian eleventh astrological house. Zeus, who went every which way, replaced Hebe—thanks Dad—with a beautiful boy he fell for called Ganymede. The eleventh house also rules homosexuality. Ganymede means gladness, joyor gaiety. In Arthurian legend, we find the figure of Galahad who achieves the quest for the holy grail. He is the son of Elaine who is the grail-bearer, the dispenser of joy and wisdom. In Tolkien’s work, the character of Galadriel is likewise the guardian of a water vessel from which is revealed all possibilities for the future, good news or bad. The goddesses of the dawn and rainbow, Eos and Iris, respectively, are both messenger deities who brought the good news and are both, too, depicted eternally holding pitchers.

The weird thing is when I pasted todays posting onto the online site the date 1986 popped up for no real reason. It is so terribly strange since that is the year when we met all the friends who are now impacting our life. Things I can write about: I can already be putting together text blocks per estate. I can already be articulating the pendant program and pinpointing the elements needed to do this or that. I have to figure out how and why to keep A. in the picture. The healing isn’t coming easy this time. This time the pain is real real real.

S is meeting Jo and Susanne tonight and I will eat the leftovers from heir soir, after I take a nice walk up to The Grocery to get some more of that incredible biodynamic wine. I stopped for a beer at the George and the Dragon which was peopled with nobody older than thirty-five, I kid you not. I felt extremely old and aware of the fact that younger people now almost look like a different species with their smooth skin and lustrous hair and beards. Was I ever that young and beautiful. I pretty much doubt it. I strolled home and put dinner together and tried to make something happen but I just ended up watching NetFlix. In the late afternoon I did meet up with Richard who wrote a piece on us a few years ago for British Vogue. It was really great to see him. I’m guessing he’s some fifteen years my junior. He has a six year old and one (it’s really to early to say) on the way (but he and now I said it anyway) and his whole life is still laid out before him. There must be some sense of that I can glean for myself but I haven’t really been able to “find” it, if you catch my drift. Apparently we are invited onto the boat in April. I have yet another bathing suit goal that I will likely not achieve. Oh well. Such is life. I keep have moments of clarity that dissolve into nothingness. I am again making a transition with this Blague, writing through certain things that need getting done. For starters, I am on quite a trip and I want to document the synchronicities thereof, ever a mission of this prospect and project.

S. reveals that during the day a wifi connection came up for someone Amy Murray. Now, Amy, our dearly departed friend, was both the bestie of Su and Jo. And this is the first time since 1986 that they have sat and talked about her and all that went down. Then, I’m told, Su mentions where Amy is buried and it turns out it’s the same place Jo got married. So really, of all the friends, only Amy got to attend that wedding after all. I need to look up Esoterika bookstore. There is no such place. It must be Watkins or Treadwells or Atlantis. I will find out. I did fight out. It is Atlantis. I also found out that Amy wasn’t buried there but that the funeral services were there. And of course I already sent the text. Good golly. I always seem (to be persuaded) to put my foot in it. Anyway, I have a feeling there may be some family conflict with April but I certainly hope not.

There is still a pall, no getting around it. And, on the continued theme of getting my head on straight, I think what I might do is make a grid. Yes, a grid. Starting with Sextrology and working down to the most underserved projects. I do think retribution could come in the form of publishing lots of little books. We could definitely use some influencer energy from folks, that much is certain. I want a little shop somewhere people can find me but I don’t know where that is. I suppose it could be some place in Boston although it often feels like such an energy suck. I want to figure this out. Would that it could be Ptown but that isn’t quite right anymore, really. I’m having an existential crisis when it comes to my location of choice, that much is certain. Would I like to live in Maine? I mean sure. And people would have to find us, which wouldn’t be a bad thing. Especially if we rented a flat, for our trouble, in Paris and spent time in London with whomever. We shall see. These are all good questions to ask, even though I have no solid answers. I am going to let it go for now and see what occurs.

I need to make up a list of subjects, prompts, questions on which to expound. The new business alone would have the following: Business model and operations, this would include who does what, budgets, production flow chart documenting who does what and when, sales and the trunk show concept for people, packaging and branding is its own thing, website and shipping is another whole area that needs to be explored, press and promotion, the pendant program itself is a whole world in and of its own. That list alone goes on and on. Congruently we need to figure out what the Wheel side of things entails, including what the consultancy is all about, what we are thinking in terms of books, and the self-publishing universe which I think could be major. Wheel is already established as an online publishing entity, so it makes perfect sense to build on that. The other Wheel projects include events, product (like those with Tim), and other content creation.

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 2021 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2021 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.