“Hark! Hark! The lark at heaven’s gate sings,
And Phoebus ‘gins arise,
His steed to water at those springs
On chalic’d flowers that lies.”
Shakespeare’s Cymberline [II.iii.11]
- For the week starting: 1/21/2010
Fishing Guide to the Stars
Mercury, Mars, Mayhem, ahem, omen, amen. (Well, it did make some kind of sense at the time; special thanks & notation here.)
- “Be still, be quiet and look where there isn’t anything,” that would be the message for them.
As an Aquarius, the message is totally different. Be loud, obnoxious, and in the way. Between the two retrograde planets, especially Mars, there’s a problem. I’d suggest that your little Aquarius self is going to be horrifically wrong about something, very soon.
In the next couple of days. That’s why I suggest you enter talking, make a big splash and let it all fall where it might. No big deal. Under that torrential output of Aquarius words, there will be a right answer, but the wrong answers outnumber the right by a factor of 3 to 1. Three wrongs don’t make a right, but three lefts do.
This isn’t about simple and easy stuff, this is about harnessing the apparent confusion. Understand that you’re probably going to make a mistake or two. Just hope that one of the words winds up being correct. Last time I bought a lottery ticket, the guy at the service station told me that all the numbers will win — eventually.
Pisces: “La Santisima Muerte” — she (or he) goes by many names — is a recent addition to the pantheon of saints. I doubt it’s a sanctioned saint, either, although, the last time I checked, the candles and memorabilia was readily available, right next to St. Jude and St. Christopher.
The figure of Death as a saint to be revered rose to recent popularity due to the high incidence of parishioners involved in Mexican border trade. Possibly illegal border exchange. Purported to be the patron saint of smugglers, among other criminal elements. I’m intrigued by the mythology and the legend, the cult status and in some case, the artifacts constructed to honor the “saint.”
An outlaw saint for outlaws. I did, at one time, fancy that I had a bad-boy image myself. I don’t, but thanks for indulging me. That self-image might explain part of my fascination with La Santisima Muerte. Or I might just be a little macabre. Always that. Too many Scorpio friends.
As a Pisces, where I last found some of that Santa Muerto material? Between St. Jude and St. Christopher. Jude? Patron saint of lost causes. Christopher? Patron saint of travelers. As a Pisces, this week, you could use a little divine intervention. Have you thought about invoking a saint? And if so, which one? That Santa Muerto? She’s also good for luck.
Aries: Previously, in Pisces, I wrote about a certain — I think it’s folklore more than real — saint that’s common around here. In a grocery store, on the south side of town, I found a candle for this saint, “La Santisima Muerto,” which, if I wasn’t copying that accurately, then I wouldn’t know for sure. Looks like there’s a grammatical agreement problem with the noun ending, but that could be my latin education getting confused.
Never said I paid attention in school.
In another store, I found a similar candle. Same size, shape, identical design except that one candle has a white figure on the glass, which is filled with black-colored wax whereas the other candle is black lettering over white wax. As end pieces, they are fetching, the opposites fulfill each other. Positive and negative, good and bad.
Aries right, Aries wrong. Which is it going to be? Mercury, Mars and so forth? Good bet you open your mouth to argue, insult or just disagree, and you probably wind up being wrong.
- Here’s the hint: shut up.
Your first reaction is normally quite good. It’s off. It’s bad, your intuition is misleading you. So stop for a minute. Takes one of those candles seven days to burn. Think you can wait until we get to the end of the candle before you say anything? Might help, let it burn all the way out. Sputter, gutter, go out. Then talk.
Taurus: Old TV series — sit com — an old girlfriend used to enjoy. We’d watch it, sometimes. I admired the writing, the comedy. One of my favorite lines? “Uncle Charlie, I’m under achiever, not an idiot.” From that single statement, or a fragment, I’m spinning up a week’s worth of Taurus angst, trial, tribulation, and hopefully, a solution.
The part I want to concentrate on? “…underachiever, not an idiot…”
Timing is important, too, and the correct time to run that line out, or an analogous version thereof? This week. But watch the timing on it. Can’t just pop off at a moment’s notice. Careful planning, then a correct pause, then think about using that line. Or something similar. “I’m slow, not dumb.” Or, my favorite, “I’m cheap, not easy.” Wait, I’m easy, not cheap.
I am cheap and I am easy, but I’m not Taurus. Figure out what variation works for your extra-fine Taurus self.
Gemini: I was in the mall. The after Xmas rush for deals. Yeah, I know, but hey, it’s the best time to shop if one must shop. I noticed a lady with a kid, baby, slung over the lady’s shoulder. Might even be a Sagittarius baby, because, after all, we are the best. The mom wasn’t too distracted as the kid appeared asleep. Only, its wee little eyes were open and it’s wee little eyes were tracking me, as I was walking behind the mom. No guess as to my motivation, but I made eye contact with that kid. It stared at me, old souls connecting, then looked around. Glanced around.
I wasn’t following too closely because I’m afraid of babies and projectile vomiting. Natural fear, I’d like to think. I got thinking about the recent turn of events — in Gemini — and that baby, the way it was carried. That child will have a backwards view of the world, if that method persists. Always looking back where it’s been, not where it’s heading. Sort of strange. I understand — I don’t know this — but I understand that the “kid-seats for cars” are rear-facing for safety.
- Mercury is no longer retrograde.
There’s a whole generation of children that will grow up looking backwards. There’s a simple solution, because, if you’re reading this, you probably have grown beyond the child car-seat and carried facing backwards. Look forward. Mercury is no longer backwards. Just turn around and look forward, Gemini.
Cancer: Just about a 30 meters north of downtown San Antonio, on Main Street, there’s an old Denny’s that’s no longer a Denny’s. This one place, arguably, it might be the best use of a Denny’s yet, it’s called “Lulu’s.” 24-hour restaurant that serves typical local fare. Lulu’s Jailhouse Cafe. (Seen it on that TV show?) Among the notable comestibles? The giant cinnamon roll. Texas-sized cinnamon roll. Costs about 5 bucks, can feed a family of five for a week, be my guess. Unless, of course, that was a typical San Antonio family.
Might not last that long around there. While I’ve tried, I’ve never been successful at catching the right image of these things. Huge sweet rolls, bigger than a loaf of bread, even, fresh baked, warm out of the oven, cinnamon and sugar rolled into its heart, generous sugary glaze across the top? Truly a delight and so far, I don’t think the place has been discovered by any real media. Just local and word of mouth, hence the good street credit, which is all it should take.
I’ve only been brave enough to sample one of the giant sweet rolls once. I managed, it was a morning party favor, and I managed about three thin slices off one of those behemoths. All I could take. While a sweet roll, a cinnamon roll, as big as two loaves of bread, while that might look enticing? Try my method, eat only enough as you can take. It’s about limits and knowing what you can — or can’t — tackle.
Leo: Scenes from South Texas, as only visible there? It was an older model pickup truck, happens to be one I’ve owned, or similar to one I’ve owned, and it — the one on the freeway — it was at least twenty-five, maybe even thirty years old. Had a “whiskey dented” bumper, the kind of bumper that’s fallen off, been run over, and bolted back on in a sad state of sag.
Right corner of the bumper was turned down, and when I saw that truck? Its bed was piled high with vacant wooden pallets. The truck was dangerously overloaded and the girl who was driving? I mean, the car I was riding in, not that truck, the truck was driven by an older hispanic gentleman, but car I was in? Anywhere behind that overloaded truck was a danger zone.
My friend driving? Oblivious. I could see sparks from the rear bumper of the truck, as it would bounce and drag. The pallets themselves were piled close to twenty-five feet in the air. I’ll suppose, being that the pallets were basically intact, the theory would be the load wouldn’t weigh too much for the truck. I suggested a hasty exit, and one last time, that truck that was a possible danger, that overloaded truck did weave in front of us, then it swerved on down the highway in another direction. Glad about that.
I’m not a Leo. I’m not weaving under a heavy load. However, with its back bumper dragging, there’s Leo, Mars Retrograde, and its all right in front of the rest of us. Looks precarious. Good thing you’re a Leo, the Leo, otherwise, this might be a problem.
Virgo: I pulled a book off the shelf here. My own library isn’t quite as large as it once was, but the books that I do have, they’ve been around with me for some time. Out of that one book, after about three pages, a bookmark fell out: a tourist map of Seattle.
Been a few years since I’ve been up to the Pacific Northwest. Not that it’s a problem, just been a while. Like the place just fine, in fact, Seattle was a special place as there was an over-abundance of sweet, sweet coffee shops. And flowers in that market downtown. Plus the opera, the arts, the monorail, and so on. Cool place.
That map made me wonder, though, as I will do sometimes, and it was about destinations. Then I looked at the page I had bookmarked. That’s where I stopped reading that book, about page three, as I fell asleep on a flight back from Seattle. Meant to get back to the book and never did, apparently. Where I stopped, it’s still marked. The bookmark itself is a clue as to when this occurred.
All significant pointers and all circumstantial evidence. I hefted that book, and I scanned the first two pages, only, when I got to the third page, I didn’t fall asleep, I settled back on the couch, the novel raptly engrossing. All about finding that bookmark for a Virgo and all about picking up where you left off. Almost without a three-year interruption.
Libra: I’m not a professional critic, strictly an amateur hack. Grammar and verbal delivery should make that self-evident. However, I’m willing to display my lack of knowledge because I’m sure it gets a point across. Occasionally, I’ll be right. And with the miracle of VCR and digital recording? I can prove my thesis. Or I did, the other night.
We were watching something on the TV, a series, I think, and I think it’s a crime scene show, but I wasn’t sure. Anyway, the point, the freeze-frame scene I made my hostess run back? Over and again? It was an exciting bit of a chase scene. Only, the same car with the same driver came around the same corner three times. Not so much that it was noticeable under normal scrutiny, but normal TV gets boring within moments of me watching it, so I was nitpicking.
Back and forth, notice, it’s the details, and that one show? Not very good with the details. I’m not saying that you’re in for a similar time, but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to find yourself in a situation wherein there’s an annoying guest who manages to prove his point by ruining the flow. I can be annoying. Anyone can be annoying, doesn’t stop us from being right. Three times, same street corner, guess that’s why it’s TV, huh.
Scorpio: I have two-hour “lecture” that I use at certain times. Times just like right now It’s a part workshop, part lecture, part astrology reading, and what I deal with is career changes. It’s about picking a new direction, or refining an old direction, perhaps it’s a totally new job? Maybe it’s an adjunct to what the querent is already doing. However, that whole two hours I can summarize for this week’s Scorpio Scope.
What part about the current job do you like best? Wherein is — or was — the joy in what you were doing? What made you happy? Or happiest? Got a mental image of that? Now, for the next day, week, month, year, or even decade? Concentrate on the aspects of the employment that you like best — the parts that are most joyful. Delegate, subjugate or denigrate the rest.
As a Scorpio, you’ll appreciate the fact I just saved you a ton of money — no workshop, no reading, nothing. That’s this week’s secret, in a nutshell, concentrate on those things that bring you the greatest joy. At work. Part of that “New Year” thing. Tradition.
Don’t like work? Why not look for a job you do like?
Sagittarius: “Added sanity check on all preference panes.” No, really it was a note in a piece of software’s update file. Sanity check. I need one. All Sagittarius need one. The way it’s going, a built-in sanity check is the perfect culmination to the installation.
The new year has been installed, and everything feels like it’s all gone a little crazy. Market is up, then down, then up. Living it too closely can cause problems. Politics, world stage, all in upheaval. The insanity is due to present planetary conditions. The way, for us Sagittarius, to get through?
Realize that there’s a big mess and we want to clean it all up. Realize, as well, that we can’t clean it all up and that, looking at the mess as a whole, there’s no way we can ever get this done. It’s kind of overwhelming. Okay, it’s a lot overwhelming.
Little bites, little chunks, little pieces. That’s how this will be accomplished. Looking at the big picture, like we’re famous for? “Sagittarius, always ‘Big Picture’ people?” Forget that. Concentrate on one, minute, infinitesimal point. Small bites. Not big picture. Look for details. Minor details.
Capricorn: In design, like an ad layout or a newspaper display, magazine, something like that? White space is considered a good option. It’s less about what’s filling the spaces and more about what’s not filling the spaces. The open holes, large expanses of nothingness, important to the way the human eye can read and apprehend material.
Blanks are as important as the content that the blank space surrounds.
Blank spaces, not vacant stares, as there is a difference. What this is about, white space, as defined, loosely, anyway, in modernist terms. Less about what’s there and more what’s not there.
Gaping hole, a missing point in the pattern, an interruption in the normal flow? The lacuna is as important as what is included. The lesson is for the Capricorn. Look for what’s not there. See if that isn’t where the real clue is. It’s not what’s being said, it’s what’s not being said. White space. Maybe verbal white space, but listen and look.