Capricorn 26° (January 17)

I dreamed last night, or rather this morning, that I was in the desert. In Wonder Valley specifically. There was some kind of weird conference and someone threw their rotted cancer hands that they kept in the freezer or something at me and I had to leave. I know that this will make no sense. They were dried and green and horrible. I can’t explain any further. Someone from the art world was interested in working with us. I was aware of the fact that might know Jack and I thought, well, that could be an area of confusion or represent a certain rift. What else is new. All I know is that I am looking for repair and for truth. And I will wait until I am back stateside to deal with those evil little wads in publishing—I am the embodiment of justice this year, wielding a terrible swift sword. Sorry not sorry. I feel quite frustrated today. And like everything is flung everywhere. If I stick to my owners manual it might work out fine. Possible titles: Unwritten Stories. Written Off (Funny Trials and Tribulations in the Publishing Word). Mightier Than The Sword is another one perhaps. Something like that. And why not? I have to put my anger and frustration some place and let it channel fully through me. Anyway there is much to do today. We have a big afternoon and evening planned and I’m super psyched to get out and move around today. There has been much work and just sitting in and writing, dreaming and scheming and my old carcass needs to move around a bit.

So we set off for A.’s studio which is only about a twenty minute stroll up Bethnal Green Road then hanging a left toward Old Bethnal Green Road LOL. The studio was cute and worky and we went over some colors and stones and other details. We are still tweaking to get it right. Then the three of us headed toward Bethnal Green, past the Town Hall where we will move on Sunday, and then we headed up the Old Ford Road (I think it’s called toward and through Victoria Park which was quite beautiful. It is a part of town to which we haven never been; and it was a long stroll through the park along the canal. We ended up at a bar/café/pub/restaurant called Crate where we had some chill drinks and talked more about the collection and packaging and so forth. It was good to get a bit of a jump on all that. As I’m writing this I think I am watching a Harry Stiles video (is that who everyone is always talking about) and he is in the group of people, mainly men, naked from the waist up, writhing about with them. There has been some talk recently within the community that he is gay baiting or whatever. Honestly I just think he’s pansexual like so much of the younger population. Anyway, we got some good ideas on paper and I’ll need a follow-up on that score this week.

A. wanted to take us out so we just had to head upstairs in the same building to Silo which was an English version of Portlandia which I fully enjoyed. The only ingredient that made me go hmm was a “spruce sauce” because I would sear on my life that this was made from discarded Christmas trees found on the street. And I don’t actually say this lightly because the entire philosophy of the place is hinged on non-waste. So, I think my theory is correct. It was a set menu projected onto the wall, so you just get what they give you, with some vegetarian options that I didn’t opt for. The first course was a radish cannelloni. When it arrived I thought it was a mise bouche, it was so tiny. Of all the things in nature it recalled a clitoris, and you know how hard those can sometimes be to find, so that should give you some idea of the portion size. The tables had silos in them that contained cutlery and a wine cooler, the cork lids of which you raised with a giant magnet. They had the best beef dish I’ve ever tasted—it was “aged” to the consistency of pudding, that’s how tender. And a pumpkin ice cream that was served two ways. It was wonderful and ridiculous in equal measure. And they had some very good organic wine which places really all must now have. There is no alternative in this new world. I’m now watching Jamie Oliver on the Uks food network. He is kind of handsome again. I missed his lisp. We went over to A.’s flat just after and met her daughter who shares a name with S. I really like her husband and we talked about film and drank some orange wine. A. fell asleep and I realized she bloody well works too hard. I hope that she can begin to do less and be more.

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. 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 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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