“Knowing I lov’d my books, he furnish’d me,
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.”
Prospero in Shakespeare’s The Tempest [I.ii.195-7]
Taurus: Stop. Pause. No, full stop. Complete and dead stop in your tracks, just for a minute. Please. Just stop.
Where were you, what was happening, what was your situation, ten years ago. To the date. Ten years back. One decade ago? Planet Earth we use a year as a marker for time, one lap around the sun. Mercury moves a lot faster, closer to three, four times as fast. Venus? About two-thirds, Mars? Maybe two years to our one year. Jupiter? 12 years. Saturn? 28, and so on.
So using the completely arbitrary number of ten? Ten years back. One whole decade ago, where were you? What was the situation? What was happening, who was what and where, and what was important to you?
We have to stop, in Taurus, long enough to look back at a turning point, a time when everything changed, ten years ago. That’s how we plot a course forward. Before we can move into what’s happening this week, get a grip on what happened a decade ago.
- Books in print: astrofish.net/book
The instructional video/workshop: www.BarefootAstrology.com
Gemini: “Quetzalcoatl” is derived from two words in the indigenous language of Meso-America. It means “Plumed Serpent,” and it refers to a god of the Aztecs. Azatlan. “Quetzal” is the name for a bird with a long, plumed tail while “Coatl” means snake.
Half serpent, half bird, all deity. Pretty good, two things combined as one. That’s the Gemini goal, now, two as one. Not the reverse. What does some pagan god have to do with Gemini stars? Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot.
“Quetzaloatl” was the deity who studied the stars and planets, astronomy and astrology. Take two things that are different, like snakes and birds, and combine those two elements, those two things are one. See what kind of deity you can invent. Brings a whole new meaning to the term “For gods’ sakes.”
Cancer: The Nueces Strip is a barren stretch of desert between the boundary for Mexico (Rio Grande, Rio Bravo) and the Nueces River, or Rio Nueces, sort of that southern tip of Texas.
It was, at one time, hotly contested. Lipan Apache and Kickapoo would easily raid from the Mexico side then retreat back across international boundaries to escape persecution.
Storied and fabled, the Nueces Strip is one barren and bloodied piece of real estate. “No county for old men” accurately portrays the stark landscape, and captures part of the sentiment of place. Strange, though, how such a barren wasteland can be defined by two rivers. That Nueces Strip, besides the real estate contentions, is remote and yet not remote, with sprawling metropolitan sites on either side. Laredo, San Antonio, Nuevo Laredo, Brownsville, Matamoros, all there.
As defined by water. Cancer, it’s a water sign, as defined by your water?
Leo: Execution is as important as presentation. I was in a coffee shop and I will be forever grateful to Starbucks for making this happen, but it was a small coffee shop. The Espresso machine was a huge, affair, with three spigots, bright red machine, all swoopy and curvy and eclectic “modern” looking Almost deco, almost retro.
Ordered up a double shot of whatever you got, and I got a very good shot of espresso. Tasty. Just right, a little thin on the cream on top, but still, a good shot of caffeine. Halfway through that shot, that short cup of magic elixir, my mind was racing. Joy coursed its way through my veins.
I was ready for anything. I listened while a few people talked about the day and time ahead. I looked at the espresso machine, and I thought, “This is a perfect way to deal with Leo and Mars.” A shot of espresso. Stop long enough to take the time to think about it. To look, to listen, don’t just go charging ahead. Stop long enough to feel that stuff creeping up on you.
Like me, I was halfway through that diminutive cup before it got into the good part. Had to wait a little while, but I never finished the cup, like Leo, you don’t have to drink it all down to feel the effects
Virgo: I was coastal (flats) fishing, not long ago, and it was a little slow at first. Spent almost two hours on the water, three different spots without so much as a nibble. Not even any bait-stealers. Motored into another location on the backside of the island, marsh, coastal reeds and weeds. Set out a few lines with a crab as bait.
Wham! Less than ten minutes, nice, big red. As I fished the hook out of his mouth, I found the bait, still intact. Put that bait back on the hook, dropped the fish on the cooler, flung the line — with that bait — back out. Half hour later, another big fish, same piece of bait, a little chewed up, but still, it was still there.
Another one for the cooler and the bait went back out again. Other end of the boat, they were catching (speckled) trout. I waited. That piece of bait brought in one more Big Red. Amazing that a single piece of bait could stretch that far.
As a Virgo, follow my lead on this, there’s a chance, an opportunity to reuse something you’ve been using, Instead of changing it up just for the sake of change? If it works? Keep using it until it’s all used up. Or until you’ve caught your limit on Big Reds.
Libra: I’ve lived, off and on, in the desert of the American Southwest — for almost all of my life. Sometimes along the fringes, like in Austin, which is far more tropical and less desert than most, but still, it’s right at the edge, A few hundred miles due west and it’s the heart of the the northern terminus of the Chihuahua Desert. Or the Sonoran Desert. Places I’ve lived at one time or another. Like it just fine. Dry weather suits me okay. Most assuredly, suits my humor. Little hard on the fishing, but it’s still okay. It’s a climate that I’m used to.
The desert, after a spring shower, blooms. Bursts wide open from a dull brown to a cascading myriad of colors that are impossible versions of green in all its variations. From dark green to light green and all the striations in between that are plainly not imaginable.
These bright spots of color only happen about once every third year. It’s happening, now, in Libra. You’ve got a chance, an opportunity, an option to exercise, and now is the time to do it. It’s like that desert in full bloom, something I’ve seen, a few times, but remember, this is a chance that only occurs once every three years — or so.
Scorpio: Deception. Illusion. Smoke and mirrors. All good Scorpio qualities. Better yet, this week? Use those Scorpio skills. Deception, illusion, sleight-of-hand. All good tools from the old Scorpio tool-box.
I was thinking about this, looking at your chart, and I remembered a presentation I was forced to sit through. Power-Point-like lecture with the visual clue slides. Awful stuff. Riveting material absolutely ruined by shoddy presentation. If you’re presenting? If you’re getting ready? Think about the way a magician does it, draws the attention away from the where the eye wants to be, misdirection.
Illusion. Good slides can work that way. Even bad photography can be good in its intent.
Draw the eye away from your Scorpio self. In that one example, the bad presentation, or good presentation ruined by bad slides? Think about what you can do to utilize the aforementioned smoke and mirrors.
Draw attention away from your Scorpio self. Blend into the background. Camouflage. The worst thing you can do this next few days? “Hey, look at me!” Unless, of course, you’re one of my friends, and that’s a not-so-subtle cry and warning. “Watch me do this!” Translated from my buddies? Means “Duck!”
Stick to smoke and mirrors. Deception.
Sagittarius: There’s a key phrase I’d like to introduce to my fine Sagittarius brothers and sisters.
Think: February 13. Know what that is? It’s the day before an artificial holiday all about “love & romance.” True, I’ve written books about love & romance, but neither is particular big issue with us Sagittarius types. It’s nice, and it’s wonderful, and, oh “whatever!” Feb 13 is usually the time when, in a last minute panic, we’re scrambling for tokens of affection. Hard proof that our love is true. Begs the jokes about my valentines’ cards with bulk mail stamps, addressed to “your name here” and “or current resident.”
All had our laughs about that. Sagittarius love & romance themes. We’re funny like that. Next week? Pay attention, next week, there’s a huge romance thing as Venus opposes Pluto.
As a Sagittarius? Instead of waiting until next week to have a card, flowers, ballon bouquet, box of her favorite wine, bottle of chocolates ready? Get that this week. Helps to be prepared.
Capricorn: Got a friend, client, works at City Hall. High level mid-management type. Has a problem as of late, with exploding pens. Seems that any pen she swipes from the office? It explodes when she uses it away from city hall. Messy. She’ll pull one out, whip the top off, and starting using until she realizes, or, it happened to me once, that ink was everywhere except the end of the pen.
She’s not a thief, I mean, not intentionally, just sort of happens. Pens walk off. I had to wonder, though since the pens don’t explode until after they leave City Hall? I wonder if there’s a RFID chip in the pens. Only makes sense. Would be another way to cut down on employee theft, right? Most government buildings have metal detector looking things, and the one in City Hall? Bet it triggers the RFID in the pens, which then triggers the huge pressure differential, which causes an ink explosion.
Just trying to save taxpayers’ money. Maybe it’s cheaper not to steal. Or maybe, perhaps, it’s just a coincidence. Sure, that’s it. Or reasons for a Capricorn to be paranoid.
Aquarius: I was out-of-town, on business, astrology business, and it was a very Austin-like restaurant. Loved it — even felt more “Austin” than anyplace in Austin. I used the restroom. When I came out, I asked the Aquarius server if that was an art installation in the men’s room. “No,” she said, “we just didn’t have a place to leave the ladder, so there it is.”
Which, think about it, a better comeback? Always happens too late, but a better comeback? “Is that where they left it?” It wasn’t art. It wasn’t happenstance, it was just what it was, a ladder stored against the wall in the men’s room. It could’ve been a sculpture since the ladder didn’t go anyplace discernible, and it was covered with painting dips, perhaps in an artful pattern.
Then, too, the way the ladder’s appearance fit with the rest of the space, again, my call wasn’t far off. I can’t say I was the only person who asked about the ladder; however, I will admit that I wasn’t abused over my question. Except by my date, but that’s different. She’d a take a shot at anything I said.
The “art” question brings up a couple of different issues. How you choose to deal with them? Remember, it was an Aquarius I asked, and remember, she responded kindly and in an unperturbed manner — might be the best approach. Thoroughly non-committal.
Pisces: There’s an expression from Shakespeare’s play, the Scottish Play, about the “Seeds of time.” More than two dozen books have since been written, incorporating that phrase as a title. Evocative of a number of emotional components, the phrase is about peering into the seeds of time, to discern the future.
Which is what a good horoscope is about, correct?
Only, what’s more important. It’s taking what you’ve got and putting it to good use for yourself. There are seeds to sow, for Pisces. How you choose to sow those seeds? Only time will tell what will spring forth. This late in the spring? It’s almost time for the second cutting.
Aries: The perfect Aries color has got to be a local variation on a theme. It’s called “Enchilada Red,” and it’s the color of the grease that floats on top of a meaty sauce layered over a plate of steamy enchiladas at a little tacqueria down the street from here.
There’s another place, around the corner, and the grease oozing out of one of the “chorizo y egg” tacos? Same color. Another place, the color is the same as grilled potatoes served with breakfast platters. I suspect, just a suspicion, that the color is a combination of grease, chili powder and various peppers (mostly cayenne if I have anything to do with it).
The color isn’t just limited to cooking grease, it’s also present in the canyons of the Desert Southwest, I’m think of Arizona Highways kind of canyon pictures. More AZ than NM, too, as New Mexico tends towards more ochre and umber, and less red, russet and rust colors.
Think about finding your version of this red color. Paint your walls, paint your car, paint your bicycle. Dye your hair. Paint something that color to remind yourself that you are Aries, and change is good for you. Change one thing. Personally I think you should just paint the bedroom, but that’s me.
