Sagittarius 16° (December 8)
The anniversary of John Lennon’s death. I am reconnecting with more childhood friends, which is pretty nice actually. I should have a lot to say but I don’t really I will make a lovely Caesar with Shrimp even though we had Shrimp Scampi yesterday. It really doesn’t matter. One kid from my past called Neil will ask to say hi to my mother. He can do it as easily as I can since she’s dead. He told me stories about Halloween parties which I do remember actually. It was the beginning of seventh grade and it was a 1950s theme because Happy Days was all the rage. Diane and Dede were there. Now they are both out, the former having taken her time. I’m not having the easiest time getting work done today but that too has to be okay. There are plenty of errands to run and other ways to procrastinate which I will do, knowing me. We did hear from publisher today so we shall write back tomorrow. It should be quite good news in the end and we will get our tree fully decorated and put some candles in the window. I have thank you otes to write. I no longer do Christmas cards. It was too painful. For years and years I would individually watercolor cards but they always went unappreciated. I know that shouldn’t dissuade m from doing some anyway but the desire got bred out of me. I have very much felt disposable, especially since around 2014. I have slowly been inching my way back to where I feel I can trust people again but I have to say it aint easy and so I have to cut myself some slack on that score and just do the best that I can do. I’m mostly interested now in getting myself into the best version of me that I can be and I truly do want to create a delicious book that people can devour so I have to get the jump on all of that. I think I’m in the pocket but I’m not quite sure. We will continue to put the word out there and try and find something we can really enjoy. In the meantime I have to trust that the universe is on my side. So I’m going to do that.
The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of Blagues, nos. 1256-1260. 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 am spending exactly nine minutes writing this today. I feel as if my time has been hijacked but I also must concede that that would be up to me to allow to happen. I have to do things in units of time today in order to stay on track. That much I know. Enough good is happening in my personal life that I must find my gratitutde within all of it. The idea of the tour planning (grant) and setting up a neo vaudeville circuit have do not in the end dovetail. It would be too easy to say that people wasted my time. But people wasted my time. My allowing them to do it any further would be my own damned fault.
Anyway, I am in a take-no-prisoners position. We have to now present this new piece in 2019. I will get all the information in that I need to make this reality happen. And I will make major bank on this. I just realized something: If we could be paid as part of the artistic team we could move forward with this botched project. I cannot believe I have had to spend so much time deconstructing grant projects that other people were meant to be managing. Either way, this leg of that journey is coming to a natural end. And my raging cough continues—I can’t sleep at night because all I do is wheeze when I lie down. I probably have pneumonia or something. Or well, I rather be killed by a Dickensian disease than by Mesothelioma or some modern-day malady.
They just put out a report that things are going to go to shit envronmentally in the next fifteen to twenty years give or take. That the ice capes will have severly melted causing the waters to rise signficantly. And It suddenly dawned on me why the Republican (Reptiles) might not care about climate change. They want a series of natural disasters they can blame. And then get the contracts for cleaning things up. Just like Cheney did rebuilding Iraq or Guiliani did post 911 (oh really, is it too soon?) That’s why Puerto Rico was allowed to happen the way it did. But seriously, think about it. Who risks suffering more than coastal elites. When will Replicand so anything about climate change. After I they let climate change happen just enough so that the waters rise and all the coastal elites are eliminated.
All I’m asking for is a little bit of a break–that’s all. It’s not like I even know how to squander anything. I would like a break because I feel that I would do right by it; and by doint right by it I would make myself proud; I would thereby make other people money as well. If I had loving family with a ton of extra cash, don’t you think I would love it if they would let me have some of it? Would I feel bad? No I’d want to make them proud along with myself. I do feel as if I wish as if I feel as I wish someone would invest in me. I wish someone with means would understand what a goldmine my brain can be; how deep a treasure my creativity is. I’m the smartest, most creative person I know really. I’m not the most prolific, nor am I the most naturally gifted. But I do spend far too much time in survival mode—not in a scary way—but it’s just that I never frontloaded making money in my experience. I always derived joy from doing and from experiences over things, let alone any kind of luxury. And, as that story goes, I feel I have at times experienced untold luxury, on many levels, that term applying (at least to me) to many other things besides material, aptly named stuff. It’s stuff. It gets in the way. I know more unhappy rich people than happy ones I can tell you that right now.
People forget, though they do not need reminding, that I am an actual wizard. I have clairvoyant powers of prediction and have been known to affect the weather, specifically bringing on storm clouds. I have also experienced what can only be described as shapeshifting—pin in a big story on that subject—yet my ability to astral project is wonky, mainly due, I think, to allergies, a certain nocturnal asthma, that prevents me from restful sleep. So I might just move to Salem and become a stand-up metaphysician. My comic heroes are the ascended masters and Joseph Campbell and St. Germain and other sages and time-traveling alchemists. Rasputin was a scream. Aleister Crowly? He killed. These are my brand of funny men.
There are 12 rays now apparently in the Ascended Masters theosophy. That kind of makes sense in terms of astrology. I should trace my roots through the theosophical society. I should have a large shock of white hair and fit into tiny grey flannel suits.
If would have an apartment in Boston, an apartment in Paris, a house on Outer Cape Cod and a house in Maine, the Maine house and Paris apartment could be rented. I would write a show that answers the question how did you meet and come to do what you do.
Really it is about being within the construct of Time while coming to understand that all is one big “simultaneaity” happening in a cosmic instant which is exactly why it is that Quinn gets increasingly psychic and Stella, likewise, to borrow from the Baroness, “can see the future” in her own way. The trick is to just start picking stories from our individual and shared lives and plug them into a timeline until we find a string of stories that work as a show. Cosmic.
Quinn is….Stella is….maybe Emily and Alejandro could play us.
So we are closing in on that newsletter notes on which will be the fodder for this Blague for the next few days. I need to build the momentum and get my words and pictures together and start putting together packages for Corporations. Also putting together a single web page for the new glowfest.org. I do need to address, via Open Letter to Former Afterglow Artist Who Might be Too big for us, that there are ways they can help us. I also need to put together an Open Letter to Would-be Sponsors who never heard of us. And once this newsletter period is over. And I am writing the book intros and the holiday show, simultaneously, my Blagues will be excerpts from past good Blagues with new thoughts surrounding them in a Back and Forth series.
So I have these stones, themed paperweights under which I put bits of paper on this or that subject, mainly creative projects. I may have shown you pictures of them in the past.
I collect them from the beach where I haven’t been able to bring myself since the death of that young man from a shark bite, the second one this season, though only this one fatal. I know I need to get out and enjoy our beach but I’ve been really spooked to be honest. This time last year we were beachcombing for bits and bobs from which we made these amazing costumes which weren’t celebrated enough for my taste lol. Who knew dystopia could be so much fun; although it always brings my mood down to run into a certain person from NYC who ended up being there as part of the band’s entourage. Of all the curmudgeons in all the cities to run into. And Chris Klein was kind of a dickhead. Debby was her usual lovely self. She doesn’t remember crushing on me at Todd’s birthday, when I danced and danced with Parker P. But so what. Not everyone can get me. Famous people have it easy. People flock to them and they can pick and choose and sort of wade through. Mayber Parker and JCM should play Stella and me in the TV version of our life. Could be cool. Or JCM and Cynthia Nixon if she returns to the world of entertainment. I think she was saved from something by losing the primary to Cuomo to be honest.
Drove to Boston this morning and it was a little tense, traffic wise. But we got to Mount Auburn with time to spare and I parked the car at the hotel and just strolled around which was fun. There is something so chill about Cambridge and it seems to me a very good option as an American home base moving forward. I went by our old apartment building and there was a sign out front for a rental, with an agent name listed. I went into the old vestibule where the mailboxes are and saw that same name listed, so the realtor lives there. Not that I would want to live in that building again but it might be someone interesting to meet slash know. I think the next several months will be very chill and telling. My focus, as I’ve been saying, is on health and well-being. I have brought myself to the brink of exhaustion and need a break.
We had a lovely meal at Cafe Sushi, whose owner, Seizi Imura, is very charming. I sat down at the sushi bar in something of however because the hostess wasn’t. She was the opposite—quite rude actually. Still it is one of my favorite sushi restaurants on the planet; and I’m happy that it will be part of my world moving forward. I really need to land; and yet I have no desire to move back to NYC (please don’t make me); I don’t really mind being a type B personality, though you may differ in my opinion that I am one. Trust, I am. I’m not really all that ambitious. It’s just too hard. But for the people I know for whom lightening struck, anyone else I’ve known who has really had a lush life are those that really didn’t have to work (really) in the first place. They may be a little less broken than me, but not happier. Probably they are more regretful.
I am not regretful in the least. I’m something different. I’m repairing. I’m putting the brakes on. I’m recovering for real now. I believe in health and vitality. I can’t do what other people do. I must go deeper to get to a truly lithe way of living. I had this incredibly vivid dream last evening. I was in this multi story house which I later learned belonged to JD. There was fabric and throws and all sorts of things strewn kind of everywhere. It was like a design workshop but there were clippings of plants, too. As if there was a gardening section to the operation—wee sprigs of different plant life for either transplanting or pressing or as botany samples or all of the above. I got a wave of sadness as I always do regarding the demise of that friendship. But really how can one feel bad about a friendship with someone who was never a true friend—but, you see, when you’re a codependent like me, you can.
There was also a space where we were all kind of lying around on pillows and rugs, very Morrocan-y; and Michael Musto and some other Type A gays were there all sort of lounging around and it felt a little bit homoerotic but, as I may have mentioned before, I’ve only ever had a sex dream regarding women, never men, which I find shocking; and then, lo and behold, who should appear in the mix, but Christina Applegate, just in the nick of heterosexual time. She was sort of flopped in with all of us, all the male bodies, but nobody was messing around with here really—nobody was really messing around with anybody other then sort of carressing each other’s stomachs of all things; and she and I were just talking about art and film and entertainment.
So we came to town yesterday and had lunch, as I mentioned, at Cafe Sushi, then Stella had an appointment so I just regrouped in the room. I had hoped to sleep but that was a no-go. We went for an early bite at one of our other favorite places on the planet, Waypoint, and had what I always have, a shared veggie salad and the uni boccatini. Oh yes. Then we opened a bottle of good stuff, a delish Georgian red, and had Emma and Joe meet us in the Veritas lobby, which was lovely. A little pre-show something that isn’t the swill version. Then onto the main event which was Tori Scott at Oberon. I have never produced an artist that I’d officially not met in the flesh, but here we were. And wow was she ever fantastic. The best combination of voice and humor and pacing and craft and chops and poignant and honest and dirty and let’s go back to funny and vocally fantastic. And what a sweet human being to boot. The place was packed it was a great opening night of a new season of our series. For one night I didn’t have to think of all the work I’ve taken on and the stress associated with getting all the things done I need to get done. I really wanted to just forget my troubles and c’mon get happy for a hot second, which I believe I managed quite succcessfully to do.
After the show we went back to Waypoint for some clam pizza which was right up Emma’s alley, since she is from New Haven. But of course! Anyway it was so nice to be with kids (who easily, age wise, could be our own); and I really love them both. The evening was like a luxury vacation in twenty four hours in that we had received some encouraging news early in the day and truly began to feel and imagine how this might indeed be a sort of major turning point we had been hoping and hankering for. I’m so gun shy when it comes to getting my hopes up about anything really. Which is an awful thing to admit, as true as it might be. At the same time I must prepare for said good; which means making some strong decisions, and no quick ones. I’ve been there and I’ve done that and I’m very much interested in keeping things supremely real. The truth is I’d make a really fun insane person but unlikely a very safe one. So as eccentric as I may be—suddenly I’m the older guy at the bar in a tony Cambridge restuarant—interacting with the young waitstaff who regard we as some kind of somebody which is so adorable and such a slippery slope. I don’t want to be Ken Howard.
So I met with Brian in the lobby for a few hours and we went over a good deal of things. I think the equation could be a simpler one. Act as if. I need to get my brain around it all. For the lead-presenter event: We spend $7K (on the artists) then get back that same amount from the artist as a payout. Or if SMFA pays $3K and keeps box office then I’ve spent just 4 and you pay me full amount back so I’ve made $3K…in which case I mightn’t ask for all the money back. 7K/2K sounds more reaonable, as it adheres to that same ration of 9ths. We are also on track with getting some of the other grants moving; and that is why I transition this year to launching what will be my new company to create tours for artists throughout New England. To do that I need to raise money separately from Afterglow and approach a Boston-based set of people, and by that I mean corportations. This could surely have its own rental revenue source for an office in either Boston or Cambridge. I think as a Boston resident there is more available to me, but I can always have a small office somewhere on that score. So really this work isn’t a chore at all—it is something very important and motivating and I look forward to making this next dream come true.
Yesterday, post Brian meeting, I came up to the room and positioned myself in the doorway of the balcony as the sun was going down but still felt strong. For one I thought it would help my chesty cold; and, second, I was feeling as if I were on holiday for one last hour this so-called summer. But it was warm enough to just be in undies, and I had a little beverage and just chilled. Then I took myself for oysters and crispy white wine. And then returned to the room and just lay on the bed and luxuriated in miles of alone-time, or so it felt. I look forward to the next time I can have that experience but I don’t suspect it will be any time soon. And then I got hungry so I went back to my haunt for yet another clam pizza. To you this might sound like nothing. To me this is decadence of the first order; and for days I’ll be guilty about being that person. Ken Howard as I said yesterday. But that’s okay. I am an eccentric and I know I can go places; but I’m so genuinely grateful and, so, good: I like helping others succeed because it feels like the greatest success. And I am good (at it); it is good to be a part of other people’s good. They can be so appreciative and I feel like Boston is wide open to me.
Creatively I need to make sure the form isn’t frayed. We need to beef up our understanding of what this can be, and what it can’t. We could use some timely elements in the piece. Places where you can insert news of the day; it requires staying au courrant; we might want to bring in more of a musical director? Or have Rene play more piano. I feel you get stuck at the piano; and we might try opening some things up. Lines can and should not be delivered casually. As the actor you need actions. What do you want from us. And through what actions to you achieve your objective. That sort of actory thing can be fun and breathe fresh life into the project.
So Stella came back to Cambridge about 12:30 and we went for lunch. If there is any evidence that I am on some kind of spectrum it’s in my need for the right table in a restaurant. My mother used to move around like Lucy in her own episode. (See what I did there.) I got two soups and a plate of sushi back at Cafe Sushi. I looked up the name of the guy that Seizi was talking about and he and I are already friends on Facebook. Love that. I need to get some personal stationery. And send the kids some books. Then we had a little edgy moment leaving town. But not before we stopped at Central Bottle for charcuterie and cheese and other yummies. Sad the Paradise bar has closed. And where Toscanini’s is is going to be a boutique hotel (with Toscaninin’s back in it). The times they are a changing but then again so am I. And we seem to be merging back to Cambridge. I see myself with a nice apron on and I’m at least twently lbs. lighter than I am right now. I will have an office from which to so all I need to do. And I can get into some kind of routine, finally. And ride my bike—that is the best part. That part of the world is so terribly liveable and lovely. We’ll be able to host friends and travel and stay with friends. And just feel freer than we have the last few years, staying put, school and so forth, without our city dwelling. It’s easier in some ways but not really in the end. And I’m ready with this new auspice to tackle bigger fish.
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.