Sagittarius 15° (December 7)

Well I did manage to get all I needed getting together together in time for the one o’clock chat with new lawyer fella. We have definitely upped our game with this one, and I feel reassuringly expensed. It has definitely but a bit of a fire under me as well. I think we were living in somewhat of a fool’s paradise with the last fella. Not all of this is supposed to make sense to you, whoever you are. You aren’t even there after all. Today is tough but not impossible. I just have to rid myself of that one awful layer of fearful depression that comes from this level of persecution and uncertainty. He seeks to intimidate by the use of local color. Fudge that. I am decidedly grasping at straws but that’s okay it is a long day. Despite the stresses I am keeping my absolute cool. There is no point in hell doing anyting to upset the applecart today and I really want to focus on my health foremost. Over the last couple of days I have learned that a childhood friend was raped by four other boys in our high school locker room and that teachers, principles etc. did nothing basically saying that’s what you get for acting like a faggot. I don’t know why but I am fuming. I managed to figure out who one of the perps was and I am beginning to guess at the others. Especes de merde. My friend R. is convinced that certain people aren’t capable of such things, but I have to believe the victim. At some point I will need to lay down my arms. So funny that not too longer ago people were dangling their venues making our non-profit beg, and now they are shut down. I don’t mean ha ha funny and I’m not saying this has all been designed as a karmic backlash to assholes. What I am saying though is: be kind because you never know what life will bring and you’ll never know how soon you will be knocked off that high horse you might think you’re on. There is no horse. I did pretty much come to a screaching halt today. 

Some thoughts to put on paper: Previously we had all but exclusively assigned the archetype of Hestia (Roman: Vesta), goddess of the hearth and home fires, along with Artemis, goddess of the hunt, to the fixed-fire sign of Leo. In truth this never sat completely well with us, metaphysically speaking. We did always nod to Hestia, if ever so slightly, in regard to Virgo woman, in that, in Rome, her worship involved the Vestal Virgins, sacred-harlots who had ritual sex with priests, fitting the profile of Mary Magdalene in her real religious role.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1251-1255. 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.

Last night was something of a shit show. I’d been feeling something brewing for the last several days—both personally and globally, as ever the twain now meet. I want to articulate some thoughts that could translate into a plea to people and corporations vis a vis the tour. I guess that dovetails with the Newsletter idea which I will put out there this week as well. I don’t know if it’s all the traveling but I don’t feel that well or rested—this cold I caught after New York has lingered now for over a week. I need to let it all go (tension) and lean into health now more than ever. Though as it nears 5 PM it’s so hard not to reach for some medium bodied solace. But I am attempting to reel it all in. I need to prepare for my good as they say.

It was a fairly decent day. One client who is very nice and very good always brightens my mood to be honest. We have some very tony characters in our roster and sometimes it does wear on me that the consultancy isn’t really scalable, which is why we are working our way into other means of making do-re-mi. I’m fairly happy getting things underway. I know that I have to work on the show coming up but it is so hard to get motivated when so many tasks and things are constantly hanging in the balance. I know we are working as hard as we can to plow through all the loose ends that are dangling everywhere. And we really do the best we can in the circumstances. I have pretty much everything where I need it to be. I just have to find the motivation to get more accomplished in the days given. Everything takes forever—or at least it feels that way sometimes.

David who moved to D.C. spent some time on the phone sith S about the biz plan which we are waiting on to take root. I’m really hoping for something of a score on this front. When last I stayed at the Eliot in August we were heading to Alaska and I had this joint I hadn’t smoked. So I hid it in my hotel room (we often stay in same room at hotel) and sure enough it was still there when I returned last week. This is something I can’t typically tell anyone, so I thought I’d tell all of you. It feels really hard to be funny right now doesn’t it. I want so much to feel jolly but western civilization is going to shite and this orange douchebag is leading the charge. He was such a joke for decades living in NYC; and now he’s president. And it’s almost been two years of this terrible depression and the GOP using it as a shield to get whatever they need done done. I really hope they all come to a painful end—isn’t that terrible to say. But really I do. Where is Valerie Solanas (is that her name?) when we most need her.

Anyway I decided to just see what kind of stuff and nonsense would come to my brain after a very busy day. I have spent the last few days catching up on all things to do with creating this new tour—now what needs happen, starting on Monday, is to truly start putting my words into place. I have to get all my finances and press clips up to date. I have to go over everything the lawyer sent me. But mainly I have to get right back into this book writing and somehow make it fun. And also dovetail it with work on the show. These are the most important things. We will let the publisher materialize. We will let the agent do likewise. We will let anyone who says they want to fund our business really do it. And I am going to parlay all of my sucesses into a great tour with great artists. And I’m going to get my self into shape and get that Tru show up on running. I also have to get back to the fellows on that Midnight at the Whatever show. To be honest I don’t think it stuck with me.


I’m having this weird visceral reaction to what’s happening and it is surprisingly not a bad sensation. Hear me out. I think because the gloves are off and they’ve played their hand: I feel unapologetically Democrat and American. These people aren’t true Americans—they are all in some way traitors, and we shall discover the specifics thereof very soon. Also, I know this is a bit woo-woo but if one were to trust in a higher power then this all might be one big Icarian set-up for the GOP. They pushed it, pressed their luck. Now anything can happen. And maybe, just maybe, karma will be the kind of bitch I can get with.

I have to start giving myself some positive feedback and I do need to read some books again. Look, if this is going to be a quiet, slow winter then so be it. I might as well give over to the relaxation and get my ass back to yoga class and all that good stuff. I have to stop obsessing over every single little thing or word. It is so not worth it. On Monday I will work till 10 on the Blagues and then I shall work until noon on book stuff. Then in the afternoon I will get finances up to speed. And Monday evening I can review what the lawyers had to say. I must take it easy Tuesday and Wednesday as well. It’s so funny because there was the festival in September, then trip to NYC then Boston and I’m still in this kind of hyperdrive when really all I need do right now is learn to relax. The state of the world, such as it is, is really terrible. But there is precious little I can do about it. I can only move forward.

I don’t know what is worse—people’s FB accounts being cloned or having to hear about it through the death of a thousand messages. I’m now convinced nobody is sending me anything—that that’s the hacky bit. Life is increasingly an unreality on so many levels, it might as well be one, too, on this most banal of them. Just quite FB! Meanwhile, let the rest of us happily have their identities stolen in peace!

We had a nice meeting just the two of us this morning and I feel like we really got onto the same page—for the first time al the numbers matched. I then spent several hours working on the tour project. The irony of this project is that I find myself working many hours on a grant that is designed for someone else; when I’ve made clear that I needed help from said individual for our own grants. There was supposed to be this person on hand to take care of the work but she quit right at the start. The Boston crowd is very precious as a whole I’ve learned. They are not necessarily hard-boiled like the New York stock; they’re easily triggered and have huge chips on their shoulders, I think, because they don’t live in NYC and they aren’t Amanda Palmer. Though many performers in Boston are Amanda Palmer clones. They are very attached to their identities and I’ve never met so many self-professed trans people who don’t live or function as trans, seemingly, in my life.

It’s that superior-inferiority thing though that is most irksome. And even people I work with at brick and mortar venues are constantly jockeying and trying to grab credit where it isn’t always due. I really can’t give a shit about it anymore. I’m on my own path and it doesn’t include worrying about this sort of thing. People will do what they do. I can only have compassion for them.


I was really looking forward to going to this art gala thing last night but I feel depressed now the day after. I was a bit sideswiped by my host asking me about an incident that occured a year ago at the restaurant owned by another guest. And I felt hijacked and really put on the spot. Then the person to my left bumped me and spilled red wine all over my trousers; and then another one of the drunken people at my table picked at the string label of my Margiela jacket while I was midstream at the urinal. People were just so drunk and unruly and I felt unsafe during the evening. We managed to leave early and just did a French exit. Yesterday, too, Kavanaugh was confirmed so the day already felt lousy. And I cannot kick this stupid cold I still have. Added to which, it seems so many of our efforts have been falling on dead ears. I’m so tired of the ambushes, the lion’s dens, the garden paths I’m led up. The users and the overpromisers, all in all, the malignant narcissists (aka same old tune). Hell really does feel like others now and I am making a giant about-face right now and putting putting focus firmly on myself. I agreed to be the non-profit agent of a tour the work of which was meant to be all about putting that tour together and the writing of releases and promotional materials and all such things as goes along with that. What I didn’t sign up for are the countless hours that have to go into the fulfilling of the grant admin itself. I have to write letters to my state representatives even.

I am an artist not an administrator and I really need to start valuing that. There is an argument for writing when you feel like it. But I like the exercise of the daily thing, even if I go months without anything earth-shattering to seay. For me it’s about facility more than anything else. And luckily I am just about an hour away from getting some serious creative thoughts I need for my book writing and my creative life down onto paper. This also serves as a giant to-do list. And I pride myself on knocking things off my list as best I can. I did talk to David Drake about performing the Tru piece. Whatever comes of it will come of it. And, more than anything, I am so ready to get my witch on. It is so frustrating—and I know it’s a universal experience of being human—but I’m really bent on closing the gap between the life I’m currently living and where I think it should be. I don’t see any reason why I can’t just now put all the pieces together. So that’s what I’m going to do. The one thing I can say about myself is I like myself. I’m not perfect nor do I want to be. But I am kind and if I’m bound to hurt anyone, it’s typically myself. But I’m done with it I really am.

I am older and I’m nobody’s famous offspring. But I have done a great many things of which I am proud. Do I regret that they have in large part not been sustainable. Maybe. But I chalk that up to the fact that I don’t have heavy enough a dose of narcissism, I really do. I have put a lot of work into ideas that others can invest in. And as someone who has always invested in others it truly is time for me to get a little love back for all we put out there. It really only feels fair at this point. There is no guarantee I realize; but if those who’ve made promises, unsolicited, don’t materialize at this juncture, it saddens me to say that it will change some things for me, sadly. I have to put my head down and power through one way or the other. And perhaps I need to get my brain around living, once again, frugally on surprise. I’m always happiest doing for myself in any case.

In other news, I think I have a herniated disk in my neck. And this two week old cough is not helping any. I cough so hard I almost black out. That cannot be good.


There is something very satisfying about getting caught up, after the fall out of summer and as the new series at Oberon kicks off this week, which I’m really looking forward to. We have Tori Scott on Thursday and I’ve replaced the errant Illustrious Blacks with Desiree Burch. Only a matter of time before I screw up and say Tori Burch. Which would be more excusable than saying Thory Burch. It will nearly be twelve years ago, this winter, that our original jewelry collection got the rug pulled out from under it by those terrible, terrible people. I find that they same characters, in life, who cling like crazy, spending nearly every waking hour with you; these are the same people that will turn on a dime or do a disappearing act. I’m very interested in working on songs, starting tomorrow which should be quite exciting. I like the singer of Screaming Females—I think she has a similar quality to his voice as Bryan Ferry.

One of the things I def need to do on Wednesday is focus on a beefed up list of venues. I can also play around with this on Thursday when I will have the whole day to myself. I look forward to feeling totally at one with my schedule and with my creativity. Making headway on finances first thing; and secondly reviewing the lawyers notes are what are most pressingly on the agenda. The house needs a deep clean the basement needs to be vacuumed yoga must start again and I am back on keto. Everything is fine there is truly nothing to worry about.

I want to tell Brian that spending many hours this week getting my brain around the reality and enormity of this project which necessarily includes adminstrative work associated with continually fulfilling the stipulations and requirements of the grant in addition to the booking and more creative bits. I think what I needed to do was just explore every nook and cranny of the requirements entailed and to begin making drafts and projections such that me might only have to tweak as we create an engine for moving this project along. These include final report narratives, agreement letters, thank you letters to legislature, a workable budget, a timeline and an extensive venue-outreach list. I had a bit of a mini meltdown when I realized how many hoops there will be to jump through, the largest of which is understanding what’s what (how we didn’t know that venues had to apply to NEFA themselves???? that was a big chunk of missing information!). But I’ve managed to spend the last three days focussed on bundling all these bits and bobs, making major inroads on them, and drafting any documentation that will need final version for submission/mailing etc.

I am also cultivating a giant Excel sheet of venues and will collect phone numbers and email addresses for each of the places located throughout the New England states. We will include way more many venues than we need and then go after spaces more surgically. I must plan trip through Vermont on the way up to Montreal and back through Maine on the return. I did read the script of Gravitational Fool and feel that we can add in some more jokes and really make the characters that much more different, one from another, the bits with the talkbacks at the end feel awkward. I feel like we should be coming to some crescendo, maybe we have to go into more an ecstatic mode? Liken the hanged man to a cocoon for our own metaphysical transformation?

I’m guessing the smartest thing to do each day is to write the astrological stuff and to stay off social media. I can keep a Blague narrative page handy to act as more of a record than a safe space for musing these next few days. I have to go so deep and be all about 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. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.