Capricorn 26° (January 16)

The blue meanies are creeping up. I am losing time schedule wise and I’m a bit lost in a swirl of anxiety.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1451-1455. 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.

It’s Easter and we are in the sign of Taurus. I have the return of my positional vertigo, on the left side only. I forgot about it until I drove today to the fam. We only stayed a few hours and after another attempt we got off in Boston and I switched places with S.. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this which I’m determined to do. It really is starting to freak me out a bit and so I have to do all I can to keep whatever weirdness might ensue at bay as best I can which is to say not causing it. Sometimes not everything is meant to be understood. You dig. So I’ve told you before I think that the voice in my head is a black woman. I think that’s a really good sign.

The move from Libra to Scorpio is like a long day’s journey into night. Just as the first uber masculine energized first sign Aries is followed by its opposite uber feminine powered Taurus, here, on the other side of the Zodiac, Libra, the sign of high consciousness, is followed by Scorpio, the deep dark recesses of the subconscious. The only sign with co-rule planets, Pluto and Mars, the former being very much the underworld version of the latter: Pluto, or the Greek Hades, with his eponymous subterranean abode is the embodiment, as is his female counter part, Persephone, of not only our own subconscious but that which is still universally so: as yet unearthed truths, mysteries, discoveries, cures and clues as to the nature of our universe.  And whether in their own mysterious interior, or in that of those in their lives, or people, society, in general Scorpio people are determined to get to the bottom of what’s making everyone and everything tick. Thus, they are the first to tune into theticks of people, places and things, seeing their way into that which others might be (consciously or subconsciously) hiding and that which is kept hidden, secret, taboo culturally and sociologically.

Scorpio is the fixed-water signs–fixed signs being the second in a trio of signs—cardinal, fixed, mutable—that make up each of the astrological quadrants. Scorpio is the middle sign in the third quadrant, that which correlates to the intellectual and experiential realm of life, how one relates to other individuals and groups. One of Libra, which kicks off this quandrant, is We are (opposing the sign of Aries, I am); while Scorpio’s mottos are We have(opposing the sign of Taurus, I have) and I desire. Fixed-signs, fortify, intensify, concentrate and distill. Fixed-water translates to ice, minerals, crystals and, by extension, gems wrought by subterranean heat and pressure. Macrocosmically, gems, jewels are a metaphor for the as yet hidden meanings and wisdom and other such discoveries which effect us all, collectively, as well as repressed bits of ourselves awaiting to be mined. Scorpio people tend to be probling of others but rather sphynxlike themselves, guarded. The sign has many totems—the scorpion, the spider, the serpent, the lizard, the dragon, all of which lie in wait—the phoenix too which rises and falls, like the eliptical path of planet Pluto. Rising from the ashes is a metaphor for regeneration, which is the partcular power associated with this sign and it’s transformative planet. The eight house rules sex, death, sleep, all mechanisms of rejection; yes astrology includes death in this, creation/destruction being part of the same ceaseless cycle of rebirth. The symbol 8 is the lemniscate, the symbol of infinity.

Pluto and Persphone are chtonian deities, inhabiting the underworld; as archetypes for those born under the sign, it speaks to Scorpio people’s severe penchant for privacy, default suspicious demeanor, their relatively goth perspective that sees them recoil from scenesters, showoffs, socialites or the like who seek outside approval, something Scorpio people rarely do, and sometimes to a fault. Pluto is also god or riches (why rule by the rich is called Plutocracy). Pluto’s jeweled palace is heavily guarded. IN medieval myth, this theme carries through: Precious gems are guarded most fiercely by the dragon, just as our own demons of fear, shame and repression might surround those of our own wisdom and desire and which must ultimately be slayed. Scorpio people are the most in touch with their secrets, even as they keep them guarded, and they can seem wrapped up in themselves for the very reason that they are dealing with their interior world, first and foremost. Externals are all secondary. They are also more aware of what their personal demons might be—whether or not they succeed at eridcating them, they certainly don’t avoid them; that said, they are loath to share their private struggles with others. Sometimes they revel in their hidden truths, leading secret lives invisible to would-be prying eyes. The god Pluto wore the original cloak of invisibility, and, metaphorically speaking, Scorpio people tend to rock that article of concealment.

Of course Earth Day is Taurus. Somehow that makes me happy. What happened on this day was that we had ad hoc meeting moments most of the day. We sometimes schedule and postpone actual meetings about specific business concerns or, say a budget meeting, but somehow have these bouts of brainstorming where neither of can turn it off, which is always fueled by a busy schedule, as if you’re just sneaking in thoughts in something of a panic. While I”m thinking of it. Oh I just wanted to say this aloud. It occurs to me. And all that jazz. Been watching FosseVerdon and it really is a treat. Michelle Williams is everything and I never use that turn of phrase because I think it is stupid. We had a shared meeting with our new agent and S. spoke to Alice earlier. I think we should head to the UK as early as possible. I looked into flights to Sicily and there is nothing direct. So I think we might choose to go through the UK. Anyway we can save money and piggy back where the piggy backing’s good, we will.

The Sagittarius Experience

The third quadrant of which Sagittarius is the third sign is all focused on the mental plane, Libra being highly conscious and Scorpio deeply subconcious, then comes Sagittarius which is expansive enough to include the two. All mutable signs (again, the third in any quadrant), somehow combine the energies of the preceding two signs. Here Sagittarius blends the brilliantly concious with the cavernous subconcious into a superconscious or supraconcsious (I really do need to look those two words up). Only William Blake, a Sagittarius, would write a Marriage of Heaven and Hellor Sagittarius Samuel Clemens rename himself Mark Twain, a play on the words, the mark (or point) between. Sagittarius is mutable fire which translates to wildfire, particuarly the kind one finds in the sky, that is to say, lightning. Named for the wild-eyed lightning wielding king of the gods, Jupiter is not only the chief planet size wise in our astrology, all other planets fitting super comfortably in it, it also signifies the energies of growth, plenty, generosity, optimism and expansion in all forms, but especially that of the mind as it relates to the spirit. Fire symbolizes spirit so all the fire signs focus on the metaphysical level. It’s the most shamanistic of signs. It’s the stream of consciousness. It’s psychedelic and bent on breaking beyond boundaries of perception. It is about connecting the mind with the spiritual plane and is thus associated with visions and the pineal gland, the seat of the third eye.

Knowledge, philsophies, belief-systems all belong to the Sagittarian estate. “Knowledge is Power,” said Auntie Mame, a modern emanation of the female archetype, the sister-wife of Jupiter, Juno (Greek: Hera) who was goddess of women, but of power and knowlege too (as e’er this particular twain shall meet?) as it was her divine gift to bestow omnipotence or omniscience (or both) upon Paris who didn’t choose her best-in-show in his eponymous Judgement. Supreme power is what makes Jupiter/Zeus and Juno/Hero the couple to beat on Mount Olympus. And like Jupiter who can shoot lightning fire from his finger tips, Juno, too, possesses the ability to radiate outward from her entire being in such brilliance that it blinds and sometimes completely combusts those who behold her thus beaming. And speaking of knowledge: Historically, Sagittarius women in the greatest number comprised the list of most successful, world-renowned women writers to achieve global recognition. Austen, Dickinson, Cather, Wharton, Sand, Alcott, Emily Bronte the list goes on and on, proving how the proliferation of knowledge, to be an author who catches like wild fire at a time before the telegraph, and not that long after the printing press, is tantamount to greatest power and influence over the minds of many. And how else could a woman become a global sensation but to radiate outward in the expression of her creative intellect. The sign shares an “opposite” axis with Gemini, the buzzy mutable air sign of information which feeds into said Sagittarian knowledge. It also takes the dual energy of Gemini and combines it into somethint tertiary—again, that mark ‘twain.

One such person Hera burnt was Semele, the pregnant mortal mother of Dionysus. But she didn’t have to do it herself this time; instead she tricked her into asking Zeus to revel himself in full glory, which had the same combustive result; and Zeus had rescue the unborn Dionysus, sewing him into his own thigh (the body part ruled by Sagittarius) to finish his gestation. The thigh is the body part ruled by Sagittarius and the myth speaks to the struggle for power between the sexes, too. Jupiter gives birth to his own son, now, usurping the most feminine power to bring forth life. And Juno detests Dionysus more than any other god. Her dislike for him symbolizes the uneasy power strugle between the traditional ancient force she embodies and the would be usurpation of this power by the patriarchy whidh is personified by this “new” male god, inheritor of Jupiter, or his own youthful (re-)incarnation.. Dionysus is a most Sagittarian archetype in his own right, being the god of extremism in a number of forms. He is the ecstatic god of the orgy and, of course, wine, the classic drug of choice for expanding ancient minds, debatably associated with disorder.

We do see his character in famous outré male figures like Nero, Blake, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Ludwig van Beethoven and of course Twain who came and went with Haley’s comet. There is something of the wild man in every Sagittarius, a nod to being the sign of the Centaur, thus half beast; while Dionysus represents nature asmale, he is god of ritual madness and religious ecstacy, a liberator and rule breaker and the only Olympian god to have a mortal parent. He isn’t pre-civilization wild, but rather embodies liberation from the restraints of existing society, the return to a natural state. Thus his rites entailed the drinking of his wine and frenzied dancing, opening up the consciousness to altered arguably higher states while recapturing the wild animal state of being as well and a return to primordial nature. Though it mightn’t have appeased Hera, Dionysian cults and rites were mainly associated with, and driven by women, along with slaves, outlaws, foreigners and the otherwise marginalized. The rites included dancing to rhythmic beats, flinging ones head back, so to break on through to the other side. Sagittarius is the energy of lightning flashess of genius, where it borders on madness, blowing ones own mind. We still see this same triggering of ecstaticism in evangelical churches, in voodoo practice, and in native american rituals. Sagittarius is the sign of the jazz, rock ‘n roll and the Beats (itself a combined duality of being beaten down and also beatific, raised high, all at the same time).

Right there was this guy in my dream last night who was kind of priestly looking. I think he was from Chatham or some place like Cornwall or some dream composite of the two. And I felt this mixed vibe from him, like he was crushing on me but also this disciplinarian figure that had some kind of power over me. Whatever. I never want to have to fully interpret any dream. I love robin’s egg blue. I’m on call this week for clients. I’m looking forward to waving some wands over people this year. It is time for some graduate-level self-actualization. Meanwhile little by little. I have many thoughts swirling today after the talk with our agent and what work needs to happen to get to where we want to go. I also have to do a little reconnaissance on the foreign rights side of our history and see where we are with everything. I think that’s enough to ask of myself in the coming days. Sneaking in little moments is a very good idea when it comes to any activity on the signs. So today I’m delving the world of Capricorn.


The Capricorn Experience

Capricorn is a correction itself to the excesses of the previous sign of Sagittarius. It is the cardinal earth sign, one symbolic interpretation being a mountain, something conical offering containment with alone or in a range. The horn too, akin to a mountain (the Matta Horn, or mother mountain), as befits this sign of the goat. Capri-corn literally means goat horn, the cornucopeia, or horn of plenty and the container of said bounty. Coming off the sign of Sagitarius which is expansion, growth, more, more more. Capricorn says enough is enough (Donna Summer is born under the sign). Capricorn is the energy of containment and restriction and thus of preservation. Mountains symbolize permanence if not the eternal itself. This fits the sign’s rule over the astrological tenth house which rules traditions. The planetary ruler is Saturn, named for the deposed god of the good ol’ golden age, (Greek: Cronus), who carried a scythe or sycle, with the planet symbol itself, even, recalls; he’s the prototypical old father Time, his Greek name linked to the chronological. His wife Rhea (Cybele or Ops, mother of the gods) is the mountain goddess in her mountain fortress, her diadem a turret; and she took god form, as Amaltheia, the mythic goat whose horns contained ambrosia, which she fed to her infant child Zeus, whom she hid away, so he might escape the fate of his elder five siblings who were swallowed at birth by Saturn who had a prophecy of usurpation by his offspring eternally hanging over his head.

Rhea means ease and Cronus is a deposed god, now, over the hill. Capricorn energy is retiring, retreating, restoring, reserved. It is the power of restraint, one such superpower Capricorn people possess. Capricorn is quality over quantity, a mountain of personal reserve. Talk about staunch character. The golden age which the Titans Cronos and Rhea ruled was thus called because it was a paradise devoid of any vice or lack where gods and men lived together, the latter for a monumentally long time. Arcadia, the hilly home of the goat god pan, remained a sort of bucolic remnant, an echoing of the golden age. There was no ambition as the world was endlessly bountiful and provided. At their best Capricorn people embrace a similar mindset, refusing to struggle, though nobody works harder. Their emotional landscape is steep and rocky and not without some major landslides, but this inspires their development of sure-footedness and stamina. Endurance is the Capricorn way, which is the true metaphorical take-away of the sign’s grand-parental energy. We save up for retirement, just as we keep our reservoirs pure, whether real or symbolic of own resources, or those of our cultural tradition.

The Capricorn motto is I usewhich is to day I don’t waste, neither time nor energy, or fritter away that which is worth preserving on that which doesn’t take, but might only get, one higher. The goat is built for the ascent but here’s the rub: Capricorn is the Sea Goat, and it has this fishy bit, which carries paradoxical meaning. Water sybmolizes intuition something Capricorns have in abundance, it also signifies emotion which we hope will fuel the Capricorn, not drag them down. The Sea Goat is also the perfect being to inhabit a metaphorical moutain-lake environment, the reservoir formed by restrictive power. Shan-gri-la, like golden-age Arcadia, where nobody ages. Just as the cardinal-water sign of Cancer, the axis-sign opposite Capricorn, is the source, Capricorn is the resource; and just as Cancer is associated with the archetype of Cinderella, so is Capricorn personified as the fairy god mother, a female personification of one’s higher power. Capricorns, whose birthright energy is faith, tend more than others to be one and the same with their higher power. And on the male side, we associate going to the mountain with, among other archetypes, old Moses, who let’s himself go grey via the experience, just as baby Moses, going from mother to mother along the (cardinal-water) river, is associated with Cancer, ruled by the Moon, the mother principle in astrology. Just as the fairy godmother comes with strict instructions (the sign of Capricorn at the very top of the Zodiacal wheel, at twelve o’clock, the stroke of midnight) so too does Moses receive and thus deliver a list of rules and regulations, restrictions—shalt nots!—to lay on us, ten to be exact, the number associated with Capricorn. God also told Moses to build his tabernacle out of goat hair, one might guess, because of it’s enduring, eternal qualities.

We tackled the budget today which was great. What a fruitful meeting numbers might provide. It’s so unvague to balance and divvy and project, when, even in numbers later changes entail entering new digits and that’s it. The creative meetings are far more challenging though ulitmately more fun. We have a Skype with our friend Pete today to which I really look forward. The trick as ever is to get ahead of that thing we call the eight ball. I don’t need maybes I need yesses. I mustn’t tolerate certain people because they are part of the so-called community. If I rub people the wrong way that’s always code for me calling others out on their bullshit. Those who seem more tolerant are typically more fawning and looking for some kind of pay-off, making compromises so to get what they are gunning for. I’m not that person. I must go higher and lower. I think I mean that. I must go deeper not lower! That’s the difference. When I say deeper I mean into my own creative performance career. It is the thing that I am most uniquely engineered to do (but for reasons I haven’t given full focus) while I let go lightly of people, places and things. I plan this summer to know a great many of them, new folks that is. I also need to get some new people on my board of directors. Anyway let’s talk about some Aquarius bric-a-brac.

Following Capricorn, cardinal-earth, which correlates, among other things, with the old-guard and the edification of tradition, comes the eleventh sign of Aquarius breaking through all that with avant-garde aplomb. The energy is both revolutionary and evolutionary. The sign’s ruler Uranus is the awakener, sudden and sweeping. Named for the god of the universe it points that which is ahead of its time—the eleventh astrological house rules the future—and and all that is new to explore, and what uncharted territory, metaphysical or otherwise, one can boldly get into. That Aquarius people are known to be quirky or freaky is more than pop-astrology, it speaks to the mutant energy of the sign. Aquarius is the future in the present, the sudden and sweeping mutation, the oddity, by which, nevertheless, the future unfolds and, literally, all species evolve. Darwinism is thus encoded into the ancient Zodiac—those crazy Mesopotamians! The male and female Aquarian chapters in our book Sextrology are called The Visitor and The Vision, respectively. The former refers to the alien quality of the men of the sign, in particular, as if they are visitors from outer time-space; while the latter speaks to the revelatory energy of the sign, something which women of the sign, especially, embody.

Even the fact that Uranus is named for the Greek god of the Universe, while all the other planets bear the Roman verions of their mythic namesakes, suggest something of a departure from the norm that characterizes the sign of Aquarius. Uranus, meaning sky or heaven, has many a debatable and probably composite etymology. We derive the modern word urine from the name, and most root words have watery origins and associations, like “to moisten”—it is said that Aphrodite emerged from the sea fertilized by Uranus’ castrated bits (Saturn struck him down just as he was later struck down by his own usurping son, replacing him as chief god). Uranus is associated specifically with dew, which parallels Aquarius woman’s association with the goddess of the dawn. Ruled by this starry god the universe, and placed opposite Leo (ruled by the Sun) on the astrological wheel, Aquarius is associated with distant suns, a single star, if not the infinitely sparkled heavens filled. In the Tarot, the Star card depicts the astrological Water Bearer.

I have drafted most of next year’s Haute Astrology books. To be honest, I could put the entire enterprise into works within a fortnight come September. And that’s pretty much what it is I intend to do. Next on my plate this week is to tackle outstanding grant things. To get all foreign rights information to my agent for review. And then begin to reshuffle the new book proposal based on notes I have for doing just that. I have only one client this week, someone whom I feel I haven’t spoken to in so long, actually. Such that I’m really eager to reconnect. As I am to all the people. I will be putting things out. This is the time of year where I can start to be social and that feels really good. Just wearing t-shirts and jeans and a simple jacket. Yum. Everything I bring to NYC is going to be lightweight and roll. I bought the smaller size Away suitcase (in green) to match my bigger one; and now, because I’m determined to use it, I have to trick myself into wearing nothing but the same thing for days on end. Which, let’s face it, is what I end up doing in any case.

It’s fine to call myself an actor but it has been so many years since I’ve actually acted in a straight play and I’m a bit nervous about putting myself back out there. It will be fun to get together with the theater folk again, not just in NYC, but Boston too. And to see what might be affected by some determined action and attitude. I talk about feeling behind in my schedule but, truly, I don’t know anybody who is more hardworking and directive than I am. I hope that doesn’t sound boastful. But really I mean it. Truthfully, truthfully. We are on the brink of making a necessary city move but I’m not exactly sure where it needs to be exactly. Anyway I need to rethink some Pisces thoughts

Pisces is the final sign of the zodiac and, as its opposite facing Fish suggest, it is a sign of complete paradox. It is all and nothingness, the alpha omega, the womb tomb of existence. Pisces is the mutable-water sign, symbolized by mists, fog, foam, (French: écumefrom whence derives scum) and, thus, both potent life-giving primordial ooze and the miasma of dead and rotting matter. The twelfth astrological house has been called the dust bin of the Zodiac; but, we would add, with a focused imperative on recycling, as befits list last turn of the wheel that Pisces portrays. When Pisces George Harrison wrote and sang that life goes on within you and without you, he was expressing from an archetypally connected place. This misty mystical, mutable-water sign portrays non-material existence, something which we scientfically now know is the whole of all existence, so-called matter only truly being various densities of said energy. Ruled by planet Neptune, named for the god of the sea, portrays the cosmic energy of dissolution. In Pisces we are dissolving, seeing and venturing beyond the seven-hued veils of Salome, over Iris’ rainbow—both, among the archetypes of the previous sign of Aquarius—having now entered into a magical place, a lucid dream world, a blissed-out state of Nirvana, or some other such transcendent realm. Neptune and Pisces at once represent the estate of purest imgaination, and also delusion and hallucination. Lest we forget that magic and imagination share the same etymology as imagery, any sort of which is ruled by the twelfth astrological house, that of asylum or theasylum depending how you look at it.

In our book Sextrology, Pisces woman and man are called The Dreamand The Drifter, respectively, and, of all the individuals on the astrological block, they are best at giving in or over to life on life’s terms, dissolving into the here and now of their circumstance, if only sometimes treading water, seeking foremost to avoid struggle (all of which requires a great sacrificing of ego). At the same time, paradoxically, the are most able of people to sustain a belief in certain transcendence, whatever their particular brand of sublimity might be. No wonder the sign’s motto is I Believewhich is more than just a spriritual knowingness, it is a power, Pisces’s super power, that works it’s magic on reality, making it malleable. This is the true meaning of the mutable-water assignation, and of Neptune’s dissolving force: If all we perceive isn’t truly fixed, but fields of energy blending, one into another, than the so-called substance of being is determined by the energy we are, and that which we are putting out there via our belief. If we dissolve the impediments to them—circumstance and limiting thoughts—and we remove the notion of space and time (trusting in inevitability of the manifestion of our belief) that which we belief in, primarily our self, is already coming into being. We all have this power. For Pisces people it just happens to be frontloaded. They more readily give over to the plot of life as it is already happening, like a lucid dreamer must do if s/he would have the dream continue (any lucid dreamer will tell you that if you try to impose your will on the dream it will dissolve before your mind’s eye).

Pisces are the most accepting of what is and thus able to make the greatest changes toward what could be. Acceptance is the threshold to Love. Not the personal or romantic sort, but the truest, purest spiritual form of Love as the animating force in the Universe. The great primordial goddess of the sea, from which she emerged, is Aphrodite (Roman: Venus), later demoted to a lower-case love-and-beauty goddess when she enterered the patriarchal pantheon that struggled to place her. We also see her, in emanation, as the wife of Neptune, Amphitrite, his famed trident originally being her symbol as the triple goddess, as is the shamrock, the lily (Aphrodite’s sacred flower), the fleur de lis. Another name for Aphrodite is called Mari (the sea) and she is thus cognate to Mary, Stella Maris, the star of the sea. Both Aphrodite and Mary have sons, Eros and Jesus, who are embodiments with Love. Eros, which means love, like Jesus, is the eternal babe, yet he is also the oldest, most primordial of the creation gods, just as Jesus is one and the same with the father-creator. Aphrodite and Eros took fish form and we know all about the Jesus fish from certain people’s automobile decoration. All this to say that the philosophical concept of Pisces is thus: That if you were to remove all physical manifestation from the world (which isn’t physical but energetic or spiritual anyway) what is behind it all, the very backdrop of existence, is, essentially Love. And someone once supposedly said something like: blessed are those who believe without seeing.

Pisces rules feet which, metaphorically, speaks to Pisces people being parapetitic. Of all the signs, Pisces are the least moored to their origins, both in terms of their actual home and family rearing, but also in the assignations that go along with it. From birth, nearly, Pisces people move in a desired direction of character and bearing, most often fancying themself to be erudite, if not encyclopedic in their knowledge, with a certain lockjaw upper crustiness. They are indeed fancy. And we don’t use the word lightly. For Pisces people it is an actionable verb whereby they art-direct their own personality and, really, they’re very being. They always embody a departure from their roots and they will stay in motion (unless, paradoxically, they isolate and roam around an inner world of their own making instead). It is the belief that they can be anything they want to be and, to look at the feet, again: before we can walk on water we best believe that we can. Science ultimately proves many a belief. Like: all isenergy; and energy can neither be created nor destroyed. So the primordial soup, expressed by Pisces, is all that is and will ever be. Pisces people seem to personify this notion. They are not attached, as a rule, to people places and things; on the other side of the paradox, they are the most empathetic of beings. In Sextrology we joke that Pisces woman, in particular, rely on the kindness of strangers, being embodiment of the Blanche du Bois archetype (she wears della robbia blue which is the color of Mary’s robe); but Pisces people, regardless of gender, are at home with people, strangers, even as they travel the world. They tend to treat everyone equally, which might seem strange to their significant others or even their children. It’s as if they understand the impermanance of existence better than the rest of us.

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.