Pisces 3° (February 22)


This place of Heather’s good grief it’s so gorgeous. We had a lovely breakfast of shirred eggs and such; we traded stories about complicated friendships and it was great to share my experience with someone who has experienced something similar. We went for a gorgeous three mile walk around the lake, so lovely—we had walked it before. I had so much fun just kind of futzing around and talking with Barry about Afterglow and such. Then Heather’s niece and nephew came up for a visit and they were too precocious for words, truly. I managed to slip away a bit and back into the tub which is lovely. It figures that one of my favorite paintings in the house belongs to Mike Carrol.

I will need to get some thoughts on paper today about the Aquarius experience.

In response to excess restraint of Capricorn, Aquarius is revolutionary, evolutionary, break-out ushering in New Orders. Uranus rules; named for the god of the Universe, and its power is sudden and sweeping, often out of left field, at the eleventh hour. Aquarian people can seem far out and little freaky. They are literaly quirk-y, in that they personify the kind of sudden mutation of the sign, which, if you know your Darwin (an Aquarius), becomes the mainstay for survival of the species. The 11th house rules humanity and the future where Aquarian people seem to come from. They are ahead of their time. Which can make them feel strung out on a limb. A lone voice in the universe. Like that biblical weirdo Waterbearer, wildman John the Baptist, whose losing his head foreshadows this moment in the Jesus story: Strung out, hanging between life and death and back again! And things are about to suddenly, sweepingly change. New order.

In Greek myth, the cup bearer, Hebe, pours the nectar that restores gods’ youthful immortality as John the Baptist bears baptismal waters offering everlasting life. And here in the Jesus story that deal is about to be sealed. The scene is themed on utter despair giving way to everlasting joy. Two sides of the superpower-shadow side see-saw that Aquarius people teeter totter between. It is the Fixed-Air sign which translates to a point, or a thousand points, of light. A Star. Opposite the sign of Leo ruled by the Sun, a more distant Star. A steady beacon via which to navigate. True north. Immutable Truth itself. The sign’s motto is I know.Sudden, sweeping Revelation. Salome offering reveal-ation beckoning us beyond her rainbow colored veils. And the Joy and Grace that Truth and Revelation provide, that future glimpse of Enlightenment. Manna. Heaven. Or maybe we are losing touch with reality. Aquarius rules ages 70-77. Second childhood is a renewal of sorts.

Aquarius rules the ankles, the latest breaking (pun intended?)still fragile evolutionary feature, that enables us to stand upright. Anyway here we are at the 11th house of humanity into whose arms we might fall. The ultimate trust exercise. Why hath thou forsaken me? Here a song by a once and future avant-garde Aquarian.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols cluminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days. 

Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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