Sagittarius 25° (December 17)

Been up since three o’clock in the morning so today isn’t going to be the day I exactly imagined. By the same token I could surprise myself and get a bunch of work done before a client at three o’clock in the afternoon. I mean, it’s not impossible. And I have to keep this train on the track. And so it goes. I’ll add a bit here and there. we now understand that the divine power of Hestia is vast and multifaceted enough to be drawn upon by both signs: In the case of Leo, the historical fact that the virgin goddesses Hestia and Artemis (Roman: Diana) were the most beloved and widely worshipped for the longest period of time speaks to the fifth sign and house’s association with love given, passionate pursuits, symbolized by the hunt, as well being the center of attention, just as the sign’s ruler Sun is the fixed-fire center of the solar system, the sign’s rule of the heart is the center of the body and the hearth the center of the home. But the hearth, the word to which Hestia translates, is also akin to the kiln and thus fits the Virgo mold of the fiery furnace, the molten core of mutable-, in this case, upper-case Earth. Hestia is the very model of humility, the flipside of Leo pride, just as Virgo, the sign which follows Leo, is an antidote to the excess hubris of that spotlight-seeking sign. Once enthroned as one of the twelve Olympians, Hestia willingly abdicates this position to the youngest of the gods, the half-mortal Dionysus, when he shows up on the scene, taking a new position tending the round, central fireplace around which the gods’ thrones circle. In one sense we can see this move as a loss, a literal disappointment, befitting the larger Virgo theme, and yet it is an expression of the exact opposite: Hestia has the power of her throne to bestow upon another, changing the larger alchemy of this divine dynamic, ushering in a new cosmic order. She loses nothing really because her gains exceed whatever she ceded. She thus becomes the most revered, and most often, deity in the pantheon, as every household hearth is sacred to her, and every quotidian aspect of domestic life is offered up to her, home fires kept burning, just as she stokes the eternal flame in heavenly halls where she dwells. Dethroned, she becomes enshrined ubiquitously, a household saint whose divinity is accessible and ever present. Just as she is first born of the Olympians, it is she who receives the first offering of every ritual sacrifice. Everyone’s everyday move is thus dedicated to her, the living of a simple human life and all that entails in every detail is suffused with her divine power, routine transformed to ritual devotion in imitation of her own cosmic function. This spiritual superpower belongs to the estate of the Virgo woman, specifically. By example, you have the special sauce necessary to show the rest of us how to view the every-day sixth-house necessities—the work, the functions, the so-called chores and services needing rendering, and to see them not as sources of dread but rather as the simple gifts and opportunities, as tools, for building an increasingly better life, day by day. It is your ability, Virgo, to actively participate in the mechanics of living with a willing sense of devotion, that elevates your own sense of experience, foremost, and, in turn other, others’.

The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of  Blagues, nos. 1301-1305. 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.

I seem to have slept on my face. I have a vague recollection of burying it into the corner of the sofa. I have been falling asleep like a stone these last several days, a welcome relief to the hard-pounding insomnia one has sometime suffered. But the inside of mouth was actually numb, a result, I surmise, of nerves being temporarily messed by a razor thin line my lower teeth had cut perfectly horizontally inside and under my lower lip. Later it will twitch uncontrollably. This day feels like a loveable mess, almost a personification of one you might assign that label. It was an Oscar rather than a Felix day. I didn’t so much do a lot as get very organized despite the scene set for certain sloth and the laziness with which my character actually participated. I have been in a sort of funny failure to launch mode meets extinction burst of premature holiday living. That is a bud which must be nipped. It is all too easy to fall into a “well it’s the holidays” head; statistics show people eat way to much between Thanksgiving and New Year’s; I for one do not intend to fall into that kind of culinary trap. Luckily, the kitchen isn’t the focus here and I haven’t been my typical foody self for quite a while. I mean I still cook gorgeous meals but I don’t go overboard like a once did. It’s just the two of us so much of the time I need to keep things simple. When we’re back in more a city environment I’ll be entertaining more and that is always fun but also creatively inspiriting on the cooking front.

One of the major nuts I want to crack this coming year is that of our traditional publishing life. I have a thousand ideas regarding self-publishing; but separate from that I need to work some magic with some larger company with which I can make a sexy deal. That is definitely high on the priority list. I do need to limit what is on my to-do list; and really focus on certain things, exclusively, during various monthly periods. It is indeed all possible and I look forward to further forays into all the projects I’ve started over the years, taking a more executive approach to them all. It really must be the year of execution, a word with such an unfortunate double entendre. Perhaps exeuction is a Capricorn word. Only people who know that I think in twelve categories knows what that means.

Well it seems very likely that I will catch up to myself in due course today. Indeed if I can keep up writing like this —sorry to wax meta—I could be in good stead starting tomorrow and then, perhaps, for all time. The point is that I have zero time to waste. I neglected to mention that we bought a Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving. How normalized are we? It fit perfectly in the dining room and we have just put lights on it. Something about a tree with just lights can seem more beautiful than with the full ornaments package. I’m not sure I’m ready to go there to be honest. The purity is the thing. And right now purity comes in the form of little white lights. Although they do look kind of greenish to be honest. Oh well, I figure it will help us in the creation of the show this year. Speaking of which I’ve got to write a press release and get the show talked about places!

There are always going to be would-be anxieties that one can quell by deferring even the slightest catastrophizing, something I wonder if the British spell with an S. Case in point traveling to NYC to directly attend a rehearsal. It will be done, and can be done. If you just allow for some air. Most things work out. And also I will be able to finish the draft of this show today by 1PM rehearsal and I’ll go over my checklist of things as I go through. And keep all other relevant notes handy as well. Some days you just have to be more the managing editor than writer-creator; the show isn’t that earth-shatteringly important. It jus is what it is. But what it is can be much more fun, far more stressless and seamless an affair. At least that’s what I’m going for. I’m bringing the elegance back on many levels this holiday season. Join me won’t you?

It starts today with the writing of the second half of the show. I have to remind myself that I’m not actually going to say pretty much anything that is written on the page, or all of it, or some combination of elements on the page with new stuff flying into my brain. This is the first step toward increased autonomy in the performance. The show is about your own enlightenment which, hey, we might as well give it a shot, right. I want to be very clear about stuff. And succinct; and I want, especially, to speak with authority. I am not a kook. There are no kooks here.

There is a new study out about cannibis and cognitive development and how young people should not, repeat should not, do weed to early as it might actually wire them for addiction as THC is addictive. I was how old? Fourteen when I first tried the stuff. That is in fact young but oh well too late now. I never truly enjoy smoking weed with other people anyway. It seems so funny now that it is legal. I still don’t know how one would go about buying any. The whole thing seems kind of mysterious that way I suppose. Funny how when something like this occurs, by the time it does I mean, you really don’t care. One of these days I suppose I’ll try an edible. I haven’t had the opportunity yet so far.

I’ve been wanting for ages to Google: whatever happened to Percy Weasley. Apparently the answer is nothing. He’s been around the whole while. Woops. Oh well. What am I supposed to do about the fact I don’t know everything about you know who. At some point I will circle back and read all the books again. I’m waiting for second childhood to do so. I want to do a lot more reading overall in any case that’s for certain. I stare at all the books in this house and thing sheesh I’ll never get through them all. And I won’t. It’s very possible I’m not living life correctly. I want to limit the number of mistakes moving forward I can tell you that. I am grateful for the removal of obstacles to my good these days. I do believe I am doing the heavy lifting.

It is Monday and just over three weeks to our upcoming show. I think we are in good shape considering everything else we’re juggling. Today might be another day of shifting sands where, if I don’t do first things first, they really won’t get done. I know I can be way more functional than even I’m being. Honestly, and people must relate to this, I vacillate between thinking myself to be a prolific and functional producer of works, goods, services and ideas; othertimes I feel like I’m just treading water. I never consider myself a procrastinator. I am by definition a productonator, I get a lot of necessary things done (that would need to get done in any case) as a form of procrastinator from the any one thing I “should” be doing at any given time. I also just plain old spook myself getting started on things; I bust out with this feeling that I’m not ready to do it or something. When it’s best to just rip off the bandaid.

I’m looking at some stuff on my desk, various scribblings, that I should record lest I lose them for life. Lussier Clark Rudin Lecesne Gavin Pete Arsenault Tobin Caddell Mimi Peter Belsky Tranie Joshua Greene Mimi Caryn Roman Renata Nathalie Keller Kohlhaas Ruby Tyler Roland Performers, Birthday List, Clever ways to get books and tickets cooking. Lance Zecca Clever list O’ Comps purchased tickets. Trey Heather Randall Bartlett O’Brian Both Brendas Romy Phil People in NYC Nancy Shayne Amy Phoebe Lishansky Forke Dax Fourrat Gene James Bagluth Pesakoff Trip’s List Welcome Shoppe Catland Nasser Sammy River Cote Joshua Fried Fraioli Adam Nelson Brooklyn crowd. Parker, Frankie, Bretty, Nicky, Sean, Clients Book fans Edsel Tatiana Katz Ira Oberon Steve Ross and some high gloss. Tyrnauer Styles section. Maura, Schecter, Fancy, actors Tia Wu. I would love to own a nightclub—it is actually one of my dreams. It could actually be one of those older life goals that I’m now doing everything for. To own a nightclub and sleep all day until someone drags you out of bed to exercise your carcass, or to fall into a heated pool like the one at One Aldwych in London, my favorite pool experience of them all. I would model it on the Napoleon, in any case, with two sound-proofed cabaret rooms, ideally. But surely one. I have to play big in Boston and kanoodle with some money guys. This will dovetail with my fundraising in any case.

Back home here in reality: I have to get back into the hot room. Aries man is most cut and dry. Aries woman is most cut and run. Aries are realists. Combine these new notes with the musings notes (chapter openers) for fodder for Next drafts and weed out repeats from Sext. Woman biggest brat. All about realness. Next could be in second person. 24 Slim volumes. Once you’ve done the larger chunks of people, then you can start the process of profiling who will be doing what. Memo on the other two-thirds investment. “Going back to go forward” not sure why that came up.

I spent hours (longer than I thought) on the phone with Nats last night. I can’t tell you all we talked about but I do remember getting pretty deep into stuff. I needed to do that apparently but I always wonder if I go too far and am too honest with people and don’t reserve enough. I feel uneasy today so I’m chalking that up to the chat plus just feeling generally strung out. I am aimed at simplicity today, to have a simple talk through until 11AM at which point I will transition and get ready for Brad. I would like to keep that to an hour….which I was able to do. We had client and didn’t get back into the show which is fine as I’ll have much of the day tomorrow on my own to really dig in and get some rehearsal hours under my belt.

We had a substantive chat this morning about what the right first moves are in getting this operation up and running. And then the dictionary dot com word of the day was “atelier”; it doesn’t get more cosmic than that I don’t think. I trust us to make informed decisions regarding what it “all” should be about, how and when. First it has to happen and this strange limbo period is probably totally normal and just a matter of course; but as this is all new territory for me, and I’m constantly living with PTSD, my challenge is to not only live in the moment without holding my breath which I have been doing; it is allowing other action to continue even though it will feel so good to make certain sacrifices when the time arises.

I am giving myself the next five days to get completely “off book” with the script such as it is so that I can reach in all different directions in the execution of the project; I also want to have plenty of time for other things, chief among them, relaxation. My viscera is asking me to take it easy diet wise. It wants to be itself a clean slate. That’s what we all want at the end of the year, really, isn’t it? For me I just have to avoid losing steam and looking for opportunities of escape. This is an inherited trait, of this I’m sure. And it’s not that healthy. So I have to discipline myself to stay connected with others. A life of typing into one’s own laptop in the privacy of their home for decades on end is conducive to isolation. I used to say that I felt like a Reses monkey, separated into its owncage, when it came to social situations and the anxiety I’ve always suffered on that score. I’ve always found ways, thus to hide, even in plain sight.

I got lost again today. I hate that. My locomotion went off the rails which is really a bummer. I know I have fear, nerves surrounding certain projects that push all my buttons; but you know what it is still two and a half weeks and I am going to work pretty steadily around the current project and its promotion. I have to consider the fact that putting myself out there, say, on a stage is something worth honoring in and of itself. I’m not the best singer in the world and I’m not a comedian (perhaps I’m a casual one but surely not a cultivated one) but I feel I do have a message and a why of putting even songs across that is unique; and moreover, I can isolate in myself “the place’ where this is all coming from and the latent power and longing for expression that lurks in that deep purple place; the trouble is that it is a treasure surrounded by a dragon, demons. But that is the fight worth fighting I feel and once isolated in this way it does change perspective. I am fine and I have plenty of time and I need to take the words and music by the balls instead of getting lost in moments of pleasure.

The zodiac is forever revealing things to me about life. Taurus, even the symbol is ironic in that it more expresses the view that this “feminine” sign has as the white heifer in myth, the world is the Bull, the fertilization of this fixed-earth, garden sign. Taurus is so other orientated that its very sign symbol is colored by the fact. I have always had this need to figure out a logical explanation for this being a “feminine” sign with so masculine a sigil (a word made more mainstream by Game of Thrones).

I get homesick for London more than I do Paris which is strange. Not that I would necessarily want to set up home or shop there. I think that would be nightmarish given the experience we’ve had working at a magazine there and dealing with estate agents and such—talk about bullshit. (We were—I refer to the Taurus discussion.) And yet, especially around Christmas, I feel this massive tug toward England; no doubt due to the fact that we did spend a number of Christmasses ourselves there with our adoptive sprawling family. Sometimes it was just easier, anyway, to live someone else’s life; it was not fun or rewarding but only heart- and soul-wrenching to be with my own family for the most part where I never felt safe. I replicated those kinds of relationships, especially the one that began in 1985 and ended in 2014. It’s so weird how things that seem so traumatic are so eye opening—like the move from Scorpio to Sagittarius, the dragon of the former sign merging with the human into a lizard king or queen of phantasmagorical proportion. The merger of the animal, or even demon, with the human.

I’ve decided that mornings should be for procrastination by another name or term. Going back to the British conversation, when I worked there I noticed nobody did anything all day long until like, say 4PM, in a frenzy, before they headed to the pub by 7 the latest. It always drove me crazy that they could be so lax in the American view; now I realize that they were just living a pretty solid truth: that work does happen in bursts and to sustain a spate of post lunch focused fury (where one may have already had two beers plus a double coffee) might be all anyone could deliver in a given day; that is IF you’re living a life, as they do more whan we Americans do, where the focus isn’t on doggedly purusing some American dream, then why wouldn’t you relax more in to your actual day. I think it’s time to try this; minus the two beers and double coffee.

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.