Taurus 26° (May 15)
Okay, bitch (that’s me) it’s time to get serious. First thing I need you to do is take full stock of what it is you’ve already written. So I actually accomplished ninety percent, I think, of the lingering project—it just needed some time to ferment and, in fact, I now realize that it wasn’t a process that could have been rushed, the result being something very warm and narrative and personal and easy and inviting and not slick, at all, the way off-putting promotional copy can be; we just told a story and let the truth come through and, if anything, we would seek to get even less in the way, in the edit. What is there, though, is something real and honest and really confident in that we frontloaded the designer, never in a braggy way, but we didn’t feign some kind of self-effacism, instead we took our space, place and then we backed off. There was nothing sell-sell-sell about the narrative; rather it focused on the philosophy and all the ins and outs in takes. I’m quite proud of the work, actually, and it has set me right in terms of where I need to go next. I also got a bit managerial about the whole thing, with picture placement—I love writing captions, they are fun and a chance to be even warmer and more sparky about it. Anyway, the whole experience now feels like a gift, being on the other side of it; and now the rest is like sliding into home.
I wish I knew someone exactly like me. I would truly embrace that. Oh, wait I do. I love me.
So I found this folder yesterday which is like a time capsule for where I was in my life about eight or nine years ago. It was fascinating how every single scrap or item in the folder resonated with where I am now in my life. It was like a magical object telling me that all was write with my process and the timeline and everything, really. Of all the things that have happened to me in my life, and in the course of writing this Cosmic Blague, few things have been so on theme as this: Synchronicity, and the Universe otherwise sending messages or, playing jokes (blague is French for joke) being the primary one. All that said I woke up feeling really weird and nervy. I decided to take the day off. I had a bad neck ache. I fell back to sleep after watching most of the season of The Great on Hulu. I didn’t do fuck all. It felt fantastic. I awoke refreshed. I had a baked sweet potato with chive for lunch and salmon and tomato and avocado for dinner. I need to rejig the menu today. I need to take it easy. I’m upset at the fact that friends I introduced to other friends cut us out of the equation. The sychophantic fucks deserve each other. I learn that the festival is cancelled. I don’t really care all that much. I will channel energy and money to the artists. I will enlist my friends to help me. The loyal ones that is. The rest can go fuck off. I’m sticking to my plan and I am remembering the time capsule that I found. I am looking forward to the delivery of lounge chairs, so that I might work and lie outside in the air. The traffic is starting up. People don’t care who they hurt. There will be a reckoning.
Felt good to let everything go for a day, but already tetchy in a way. I think the only way I’m going to get on with this is to go into superwitch mode. It has worked before and it shall work again. There has to be some kind of path through all this crap and I’m happy to be the one to blaze it. I cannot believe that there is going to be a total breakdown of stuff happening. I wonder what greedy hypocrites will have to sell off pieces of themselves to survive. I do not like to be undervalued but that is something which is always up to me, not others. Do you ever have the experience of not remembering things that happened in the night? But you know something dark occurred? I feel that way every time I’m in Cambridge, my tenure there having not endured. There will be another place. This virus will have been to blame. I sent off letters to sponsors and I need to write something definitive, something like Hello. Needless to say anything about anything. I was waiting until today, when the governor of Massachusetts, where our non-profit is incorporated, is to make a declaration on openings and so forth, to reach out to you with news of our plans. Until two days ago, the Art House Provincetown where Afterglow is staged was still all-systems-go with their own summer’s season’s program, the last of which, is always Afterglow. I’ve cautiously put the minimal of wheels in motion, casting and otherwise preparing for whatever inevitable, as I felt gut-sure that performance venues would be shut down and, on Saturday, I heard from friend Mark Cortale, who runs the Art House, that the venue was indeed being closed for the season, by order of the town’s Board of Health. So, no surprise there. And I had already begun brewing ideas on how to pivot and, in effect, turn Afterglow into a source of funds not only for the artists slated to perform, but perhaps a dozen more, including Provincetown artists who, given the closures, find their annual, and often main source of income having gone poof this year. So the idea is to commission work from as many artists as we can, to be performed live at a later date and, perhaps, in the meantime, via other media. If artists were to film their work, we might be able to present the work, virtually, in festival, or semi-so, say, projected onto the screen at Wellfleet’s Drive-In Cinema or in some other safe outdoor setting that allowed for social distancing. That was certainly a good start. I love good starts.
The following blocks of texs are exceprts from my first year of Blagues, nos. 276-280 I am reading through all my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, but the time I get to my seventh, I will have through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize:
Wow, okay. There was nothing worth posting from the five older Blagues I read today. It has been really helpful to get an idea of what the content has been over the last five years. The first year was very much about the Sabian Symbols (see below), the bulk of that material I don’t want to post in this slot. And I’m nearly through that year so, once I get into the Blagues from 2016, there will be a lot more to post here (which is a good thing because I won’t have time to write a lot à la minute as we just got a new book deal and that is where my effort and attention is going!
To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°, for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360 degrees spread over 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.
Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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