Libra 27° (October 19)
Right so we are talking about yesterday and I don’t have the stomach for it but to say we watched the Producers. I am all over the kitchen bitchin’. THE BewITCHIN’ KITCHEN. If you were to ask anyone who truly knows me well, what do you think is Quinn’s greatest talent, they would mostly say cooking. If you steal this idea I will rip your face off. I was thinking that one of the funniest things is when Mary Richards says she’ll rip someone’s (Ted’s) face off. They oly did one fantasy sequence the whole time on that show. I’m basically today getting mentally prepared for what is coming down the pike when in fact the answer isn’t what I think I think it is. It is nothing and it isn’t nothing. I just heard the weirdest sound coming up from downstairs. At least I think I did or I imagined it. Did I say all I wanted to say? Oh right the Producers. I so want Matthew Broderick to be great but, aside from his singing which is strangely good, his performance seemed to be canned, cut and pasted from his first ever night, or perhaps the last dress rehearsal of the Broadway show. He isn’t, as we real actors say, alive in the moment or living in the room; he is, as we also say, playing an idea of the character, an externalized caricature. And the idea, and the caricature thereof, is Gene Wilder. He has not made Leopold Bloom his own and he’s not having fun. It must have been difficult for Nathan Lane or anybody (other than Uma Thurman, who is arguably deader—or not—wood) to work against. He has nothing to give the other actor(s) so they have the added challenge of endowing his Leopold Bloom as something more alive and real than we experience as an audience. Yeah, that’s all I wanted to say.
The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of Blagues, nos. 1011-1015. 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.
Everyone complains about mold but we all know that mold, a fungus—like the spore that became fungus that killed bacteria and became penicillin—perhaps mold are in place to naturally fight our razor’s edge fight with bacteria. Perhaps physical bodies are the battleground between fungus and bacteria. Fungus does have a way of adhering, coexisting with and advancing life in a kingdoem all its own. Separate from flora and fauna, fungi is our friend while bacteria, in our own animal kingdown, wants to kill us like a man-eating tiger.
I think it would be funny to personify Fungus as a Scottish character. Fungus, Mingus, Angus, etc. Fungus MacDormant would make a funny name.
Anyway part of me has always wanted to be a mushroom farmer. I don’t know if that’s actually true or if I’m just typing to stuff this Blague full of bulk. But whenever one nears the larger topic of “chucking it all and doing something else” I always think of becoming a mushroom farmer. I really do need to grown things this year. I wonder if I shouldn’t invest in some herb boxes and do a little something of the sort this year. Now I’m off to Google making your own herb boxes so I’ll be right back
Metallurgy is a term I love. I think it would be as interesting to play with metals as with stones and to get into the alchemy perhaps we can include in our business plan. Mythology, mysticism, metaphysics meet metallurgy. I’m so into alchemy right now anyway int terms of what happens in my kitchen and in the combining of herbs and roots and other healing elements from the plant world, which is our apothecary. I want to get into that. And, in and of my ownself, I am open for some divine transmutation myself to match truest desire with purest destiny.
I have decided to launch a new project which is two-fold. One, I will try to become what I’ve always wanted to be: an actor; testing the George Eliot quotation: “It is never to be to
what you might have been.” Now, as far as career choices go, mine is surely the most cliché. Yet it’s probably the most challenging—not like learning to become a brain surgeon challenging—though, at least when you learn to be a brain surgeon you can be one and get paid for it. This is not true of the actor, even among other artists. Easier if I had always wanted to be a painter and never did because I could just buy all the materials and start painting. But an actor can’t do the same and not be committed by their next of kin. So I think it will be an interesting project to document, write about, perhaps even film portions of, as I go. That could take some money. But wait just a cotton picking minute. If I were to add a conceit of sorts: That I am documenting the life of working actors who make their living on their craft, on their own, without the fame and fortune associated with the profession. What percentage of working actors, I wonder, make up the whole industry. Or rather what percentage do famous actors make up in the entire profession.
I pulled the Queen of Wands today. What do I like about her? She assuages bruised egos. She is the spritual adviser and the calming influence in her otherwise fiery clan. But, even for her this came through age and maturity. Yesterday I pulled the Emporer. I seem to be on a responsible trip suddenly. She is the cool of kindness.
It’s all about temperance as a tool for spiritual growth. And I get that. It’s the card which says move on. You needn’t react in the ways you once did and you can let go situations that you perhaps didn’t handle in the most temperate of ways. You can’t look back and bemoan a relationship, say, that didn’t pan out because of another if your reaction if you left the relationship pointing a fiery finger. You can only have it one way.
I really feel as if I’m turning a major corner. I’m back to that complete feeling of being so happy that I’m me. I don’t have any mechanism for regret happening. I only want to move forward. I’m feeling especially appreciated by clients. Wow. It’s overwhelming how loved I feel from that quarter.
Speaking of time and space. How do people deal with death row. How can you be Henry VIII and why are zombies popular. I know life is just preparation for death. How do you live the month leading up to your execution. That’s the true punishment.
I could stop there.
But I am aware that this might be too short and too sweet. I’m going to go look at my finances for a second. And now I’m back. And things are looking rosy which is nice—touch wood. I am very much interested in keeping things to the bone and close to the vest, both together and separately. But I must beware of isolating.
Soon I will create some Saturday Evening Roasts for the people and invite friends around to the Road House. I do need to reach out to Jim and tell him we’d love to get some herb boxes in and also that we can have the window boxes with geraniums back. I thought I took really good care of them. Who’s Jim, you ask? Oh, well I like to say he’s something between a cousin and an uncle and he officially owns the land on which we live. We live in the original house, the Road House, on the road, no surprise there, eh?
Ah, Canada. We will soon go to Montreal. I will be traveling all through New England once this grant kicks in and staking out all the locales. Ten thousand can secure a lot of developoment, especially when you use up a lot of it having fun in the process. Work and amusement going hand in hand.
Beginning Febraury 19 apparently through March 20, the Blague will focus only on this sick piece I’m writing. The whole month must, in fact be, personal writing. Then from March 21 I’ll be doing a number of daily things. I’ll do my morning tweet and then I’ll revist the Sabian Symbol associated with that day and maybe write a few paragraphs of that but not for the Blague per se although a little something can’t be bad; as I’ll also be saying whatever. I will be working on a separate sex sign a fortnight. The Blague will be synonymos with Twitter and my personal FB I suppose.
Branding the Blague and me as the writer and speaker and S should likewise do her thing daily in the realm of Baronhood. I think we can both start writing vignettes, first taking stock of existing monologues. For me that would mean the Christmas story and the jumping over fence story. Also branding the Blague QC’s take is I can’t tell you why it is I can only tell you that it is. Put out Quotes and Aphorisms by day as QVC, which S can retweet and vice versa.
I have been thinking a lot, lately, about writing in the second person. And it would be really nice to get a dialogue going between the two of us.
Here also is a list of topics as suggestions as triggers for writing said Blague:
- Memos (Cartoonlike)
- Open Letters (With the above Memos comes from To-Do list)
- Tell a Quick Story
- Plan (A party)
- A poem or song
- Schemes. Talk me through it.
- Dada (typing in exactly whatever you find on paper then throw that paper away)
- In memory of….
- A magic spell
- Comment on a repost of past
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. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.