Horoscopes for the week Starting 2.25.2010

“Beauty itself doth of itself persuade
The eyes of men without an orator.”
Shakespeare’s “The Rape of Lucrece” [29-30]

    Fishing Guide to the Stars
    by Kramer Wetzel
    For the week starting: 2.25.2010

Venus and Uranus conjunct next week.

astrofish.net Pisces: Happy birthday to you, and repeat the refrain. Time to dress up for your birthday. I was downtown for business the other afternoon, and there was a guy, olive complexion, I’m guessing Latin roots, and his shirt was bright, deep purple. Dark slacks and a bright white tie.

There’s a fine line between tasteful and tacky. I tend to err on the side of tacky, rather regularly. Yet as I walked past this one guy, I was busy trying to figure how to snap a surreptitious image with a phone camera, as it his clothing didn’t appear tacky. It looked elegant and refined. Which was just weird, as it set my fashion alert bells jangling.

Looking at my appearance and wardrobe, I’m the last person who can make comments about fashion. Or white ties with purple shirts. But as a Pisces? You can pull something just like that, you can pull it off. Or put it on, rather. Happy birthday. Enjoy. Enjoy something outlandish that really isn’t so outlandish.

astrofish.net Aries: Expectancy. Simply put, that feeling that something big is about to happen. I figure it as an air of expectancy. I look at this as there’s bunch of planets in Pisces, too. Means, to me, that there’s nothing really cooking in Aries. Which is part of the problem, as Aries likes there to always be something cooking.

Between that and the Mars situation? Makes for an unpleasant kind of “there’s nothing happening” scene in Aries. Which is the problem. The best way to work around this? There isn’t. What you can do, however, is step aside. I mean that figuratively. Maybe literally.

Maybe I don’t know how this plays in your life, but I would suggest that you step aside for the next couple of days. Let someone else gather attention, let someone else get the spotlight, let someone else catch the big fish. This “step aside action” is compounded by the phase of the Moon, and that will yet make a career gain, but then again, that’s only possible, if you step aside.

Taurus: It was one of the saddest scenes I’ve ever been party to. Worst kind of event to witness. There was an older guy, thinning hair in front, really long hair down his back, and he was singing Karaoke. The song went from one tune into two tunes. He thought he was that good.

The song itself, the two tunes? AOR, for those conversant with musical taxonomy. Stands for Album Oriented Rock, a musical historical note. Before iTunes was the number one world music retailer, back when 12-inch vinyl was all the rage. There’s a point where it feels good, as the performer, to see and hear the audience appreciate the efforts. There’s a point, too, where one is really just embarrassing one’s self.

I wouldn’t know. I just felt sorry for the guy. He was obviously pouring his heart out on stage. Applaud the effort. What was I doing in bar where they have Karaoke on Tuesday nights? You don’t want to know. Doubt I’ll repeat the experience, myself. Could say I was marginally traumatized by the event.

I’m unsure of what Taurus aesthetic will be violated. Or what line is crossed. Or what the particular issue will be. But when it comes time to repeat it? After this week, after my recent experience? Don’t go in again. Don’t go back. Don’t repeat the process that has the unfortunate results.

Gemini: I was messing around with one of my iPod things. I noticed that the music I was listening to, a remastered album, the music sounded different.

What I’d done was hit the “dance mix” button that boosted the bass line. I suppose it’s the iPod equivalent of a sub-woofer, slowly crawling by in a Low Rider, rattling windows and occasionally, fillings. What was odd, to me, this was routed through a small pair of “computer” speakers, rather than a real stereo or the omnipresent (trademarked) Apple earbuds. Made it louder, more audible. Could almost feel the music.

The way the bass line was punched up, too, that was a overpowering. Too much, almost. What I learned, after listening to that album, though, the whole way through, what I figured out was the brilliance behind the supporting roll of the bass in that one piece of music.

Far more important than I’d realized and a much grander influence. As the Moon waxes and wanes, as the planets traipse through predominately Pisces, you’re going to get a chance to understand a previously misunderstood influence. Hint: it’s a breakthrough that can yield money for you.

Cancer: I prefer being called a writer. It’s the part of the job that I like best. It’s where I find my muse can speak the easiest. In order to be a writer, one must apply butts to chairs. Doesn’t happen while I’m standing, reading, talking, or otherwise not sitting in a chair with keyboard in front of me.

I can scribble notes anywhere, but the process of making this stuff work? I have to have my butt in a chair with keyboard in front of me. Anything else is just extraneous crap. Any other self-purported “writer” who claims that there is some other way to make this happen? Let me know.

I’ll tend to doubt that there’s any other way to make it happen without sitting down and tapping away at the keyboard. Full Moon, Mars is almost done with its retrograde pattern, and it’s all good.

To make it happen though — I don’t know what it is you want to make happen — but whatever it is — to make it happen — you must imitate my actions. Sit down. Apply butt to chair. Won’t happen any other way. The converse of this is true, as well, if there’s some action you’re seeking? Pick yourself up off the couch and get out. It is not going to happen if you sit at home. Unless, you’re like me, and you’re trying to finish up the horoscopes before deadline.

astrofish.net Leo: I don’t consider any of my work spaces to be typical, not by any stretch of the imagination. However as of late, there’s been a growing concern, like an ugly tumor. Yellow Post-It notes. They’ve started to sprout alongside my main computer’s monitor. This is troublesome.

Sticky notes are a wonderful invention. A miracle of modern science and probably just an offshoot of real research. A happy byproduct. I’ve used those sticky notes, why I have them on hand, I’ve used them to annotate texts — very useful. I’ve used them to add a note to a note that I’m mailing off. I’ve used them to leave reminders for roommates. Cat never read them but that’s a cat. I’ve got one sticky notes notepad on my nightstand. Makes a good coaster.

The first time I used a note alongside the monitor, it was temporary thing, I just needed a reminder about some dates, so I scribbled them down, and posted it while I typed the information into a form. Now they’ve mutated, grown, multiplied, and there’s a even spot on the monitor’s frame where the glue residue is starting to accumulate. This is bad sign. The good news, I’m not a Leo, much less, The Leo. However, like me, you’ve got some kind of reminder going on, and you might think about doing something about that reminder. I’d take all the notes down, but there are some up there for a reason.

Virgo: The original music retrieval system was called a gramophone. It was an acoustic needle on the end of a large tin horn. Where “records” originated, as wax discs with music embedded on the surface. My most recent iPod has more control, costs less, and better response, not to mention enhanced storage, over that original design.

And portable, did I mention portable?

When I was fiddling with the iPod’s controls, there’s an equalizer for adjusting the high and low response, for type of music and for audio output preferences. All quite nice, adjusted to drum and bass, house, trance, or country and conjunto.

Back to the gramophone. The term, “Put a sock in it?” That comes from those original tin horns, and the way the listening audience could control the audio reproduction? Put a sock in it. That’s the real source for the term. As we hit this full moon, in Virgo, no less, consider that term, “Put a sock in it,” and consider its original source. Then consider putting a sock in it, just to dampen the screech and other high notes we’d all like to edit out.

Libra: I have a fascination with visual textures. In portions of downtown areas, I’ve found exposed brick paving. This is the best example of the obsession I have with visual textures. I’ve also discovered, in as much as I find it fascinating? Very few other observers are as interested in my interests in textures.

It’s like the plaster along a wall, or the odd shade of brick that’s been coated, scraped clean, then coated a second or third time. There’s a boarded up building around the corner from here, and it was a favorite graffiti target. There’s one board, over a broken window, and that weathered board must have dozens of coats of paint, adding a new layer almost each week to its texture. Board/building gets tagged, gets painted over, gets tagged, gets painted over.

There’s another building — I think it’s an art gallery this week — and it has a red brick wall facing a side street. Red brick that’s been painted white, then weathered back to the outline of the red. Texture. The subtle hues and textures, weathered, painted, worn, frayed, scattered, all part of the greater scheme.

While I’ve been wholly unsuccessful at articulating the beauty of these typically urban textures, that doesn’t mean I won’t try. Likewise, it might not be a patchwork of inner-city art and scenes, it could be anything of beauty from the Libra life, but it’s matter of finding that texture you like. Communicate about it, as best you can.

Scorpio: There’s a piece of public art I pass frequently. It’s a rusted doorway, sort of a door ajar, rather evocative of something. I’m not sure what. I’ve tried to take its picture a number of times, and for some reason, it just doesn’t lend itself to that.

Part of the problem with the image-capture process is that most of the time, all I’ve got is a cell-phone camera. Part of the problem is the setting, a downtown mall space that gets (relatively) high pedestrian traffic. And part of the problem is that the art-installation is situated between several large office buildings, and as such, the setting isn’t harmonious for a still photograph.

Hasn’t stopped me from trying. The sculpture itself looks to be, like, four pieces of heavy-gauge iron, maybe a quarter-inch thick. One on each side, a crowning threshold, and the door itself, set open — rusted in place — at about 30 degrees. However confounded I might be about the image process, as an art installation, this one is getting my attention.

Doorway, halfway open. Or half closed. Yeah, most Scorpio’s will see it as half closed. Which one are you? Half-open or half-closed? As long as it’s the full moon and Pisces? Half-open gets better results.

Sagittarius: I had this great idea for “modding” a mac. “Modding” means modifying way past factory standards, and “mac” means an older Macintosh computer. Great idea. I started out, gutted the caracas, had a 15-year old shell to start with.

The problems are simple, I lack tools, time, and expertise to pull this off. While I’m an adventuresome type, there are some basic tools that I don’t have, like a Dremel Tool, and for that matter, I don’t really have a single, well-ventilated room in which to work with epoxy and similar bonding agents. Last time I needed a paint booth, I used an empty lot not far away, and I went through two cans of spray paint. Worked well for that project, but if I was trying to layer lacquer on a computer case? Need more.

The old, beige color is off-putting, and doesn’t go with the rest of the highly modded frame. Project computers are like project cars. Same idea, in some cases, the same expense, and the results are the same, too, more style than function. Except, like some project cars, I was interested in style and function.

Alas, to date, neither my project car or, for that matter, just this project computer, none of this has been fulfilled. It is an idea I revisit from time to time, but as of now, no, nothing’s been done. As the Sun and Jupiter play tag, where are you with that one project you were working on?

Capricorn: I started to do this as a flow chart, to explain what was working on what. The planets’ influences, the outcome of those influences, and how this plays out in the Capricorn’s life. It gets horribly convoluted as there’s Mars, backwards in Leo, the Capricorn 8th (solar) House.

The influences of the planets piled up in Pisces with a smidgen of influence from the Aquarius corner, and all of this is like a flow chart, with circles, and arrows and little thought bubbles with information in them. Very messy. Should be a down a whiteboard, with those squeaky, erasable markers.

My Capricorn problem, your problem, is that I was using an erasable marker, smells funny, but its ink can be wiped with a tissue, or eraser, or even the back of my hand, but I can erase stuff on this board. This same chalkboard represents the Capricorn, and while I tend to see you as a convoluted mess of planets, I can reach up and erase portions of the flow chart, as the planets shift.

As the influences change in the next few days, I can erase, draw another arrow, or do one of those loops that bypasses some stuff. The point is, in the flow chart, in the explanation, in your weekly presentation, leave room for details to amended, filled in, or dropped. Nothing in ink that can’t be erased.

Aquarius: “You know what will happen,” my aging auntie was telling me, “I’ll get to heaven and not really care about it.” She was talking about a problem she was having with a recalcitrant neighbor, and to be honest, Aquarius dear, it wasn’t the neighbor so much as it was my aging auntie, she was unwilling to accept a certain situation for what it was.

Untenable, on her part. However, that doesn’t mean that I won’t side with my auntie for the time being. Either she will come to grips with the problems, and realize the error of her ways, or maybe, what she said? That sums it up best. Best attitude for Aquarius too.

It’s all mostly good, but there’s one item, one thing, one sticking point, or more than likely, a point that’s stuck in the Aquarius craw.

Looking at it, though, is it really that big of an issue?

About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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  • Theresa Kranz Mar 2, 2010 @ 2:49

    dudemn, tangible