You are a scholar;
I pray ye, tell me, may one credit dreams?
- Lady More in
Shakespeare’s Sir Thomas More 4.2.5-6
The authorship debate about who wrote Shakespeare and what plays should be included? Better left for Mercury in Retrograde. Although the play in the Shakespeare apocrypha, it fit for the week’s stars — Saturn in Aquarius and all, ya'll.
Horoscopes for 4.9.2020
In a predominance of Shakespeare’s plays, the “love potion” will last two scenes. Magic dust, squirt of a potion, something, the love potion lasts two scenes. Does that make the half-life of the potion one and half scenes? Never thought about it like that. But the idea is that the man-made material will only last so long, and after that? There needs to be a real chemistry for the lovers to stay together, or the magic doesn’t work.
Two scenes is about right. I tend to enjoy the “instant” connections stars have on stage and screen, eyes lock, dawn realization that, “This is the one,” and the plot thickens. Or thins, as the love potion, if that’s what started it, doesn’t last more than a couple of scenes. The idea that the stuff doesn’t last long is part of understanding how to work with this week’s Aries energies. Love potions don’t last long, as plot devices, and for that matter, they don’t last that long in the real world, either. Have to have more than that first blush of “love” which is frequently a biological response to outside stimulation. Or, to some, a love potion. Which, as I’ve pointed out to Aries for this week? Love potions tend to only last for two scenes.
One year, everyone I know was having medical problems. Teeth rotting out, body parts ceasing to function properly, eyes out of alignment, just the usual problems as a certain generation starts to age. What I noticed, though, as I’ve been the designated driver for a number of buddies? In my next life, I want to come back as a person who gets to wear scrubs to work.
Scrubs are lightweight, cotton, or cotton-like material, loose at the neck and adjustable at the waist, with no constraints or confinement's in any form. One of my fishing buddies was (is) a doctor, and he discovered that scrubs were the best thing to wear wade fishing at the coast, provided a modicum of protection from the elements, protection otherwise not afforded. I just liked the idea of wearing something that looks lot like pajamas to work. While they come in a variety of shades, sizes and designs, most of the ones I’ve seen are merely lightweight, pajama-like, teal or turquoise in color. Some have stuff stenciled on them, like a hospital name or service. I’d want, “Kramer Wetzel” in large letters, then the association’s name, and then? “Dept. of Aberrant Psychology.” Seriously, how fun would that be? In my next life, I’m going to have a position where I can wear scrubs all day, every day. For Taurus, what is a similar kind of goal? I just think scrubs look super-comfortable. Recent innovation in work-from-home have made this dream a little more real.
As I recall this energy, I realized that this has happened more than once. Then I started to count, four times, maybe? This energy is present, this next few days, so use it, and use it properly. I would be out with a Gemini woman, not really a girlfriend, but call it what one wants, and she would dance, strut, talk, bat her eyes, just her mere presence had this effect. Males would stop and gape, females would stop and coquettishly talk smack behind their hands. In one example, it was the way she danced. In another example, there was a commanding presence she radiated. A third one sparkles with drive and determination, and fits in cocktail sheath-dress thing, well, well. Depends. In part, I am a non-threatening, non-romantic, non-entity person. We’re just buds, but the perceptions of others is wherein the fun starts. Next to me, all of these women looked stunning and gained extra attention. Happens this week, your Gemini selves are out with a, preferably Sagittarius, buddy and all eyes are on the Gemini. Enjoy it. Employ it. Use that ole Gemini magic to get closer to a desired goal. Once I realized I was part of a Gemini pattern, and I was getting extra attention for my Gemini friends, once I put the symbols together, I was able to help. The attention is on the Gemini form, whatever that is. Be a-ware, and be nice. There are many ways to do this, like doing one of those zoom chats.
Don’t date a Sagittarius. Simple enough advice, comes on the heels of a recent experience I observed. While I adore the Moon Children, and I am particularly fond of the Cancer women? Yeah, no. Don’t even think about dating one of us. I have, in my files two situations wherein a Cancer woman and a Cancer man successfully “dated” Sagittrius counterparts. But that was by Sun Sign, and the charts themselves interacted very differently. One of the couples, she’s Cancer, he’s Sagittarius, are still together, to this day. But there’s more at work than just the Sun Signs, and that brings me back to my current advice for the Moon Children: don’t date a Sagittarius, and especially, not this week. One will show up in one guise or another. Could be a new friend, could be an old friend, co-worker, spouse of a friend, friend of a friend’s friend, yeah, just no telling how this shows up. But dating one? Not a good idea. Fun to play with. We make great friends. Excellent fishing buddies. As a Sagittarius myself, I can suggest we’re great for stories, amusements, and that certain, piquant sense that goes with one of us? Yes, vastly entertaining. For a moment, next few days, your Cancer — Moon Child — self will get confused with love, lust, and sheer entertainment value, and I’ll suggest it’s a Sagittarius; problem being? That shine you take to one of us? that crap wears off next week.
Just between you and me? You’re the best. However, there are those outside of our little circle who might not understand that. Might not see it my way, and there are those, hard to believe, I know, but there are those people who don’t understand that your regal butt is what will save them.
One day, you know, one day.
The old adage, about careful whose butt you’re chewing, kicking, ridding? Might have to be kissing it the near future. The weekly challenge for the majestic Leo is understanding that there are people out there who fail to recognize your worth, or don’t grasp the concept of the innate Leo regal nature. There are some people that stupid. The challenge for this next few days? What arises are those stupid people. They don’t “get it.” The bigger problem? Can't impress upon them the need to “get it,” and that it is much easier — way better — to politely ask The Leo to perform a function rather than ordering, or demanding. So there are going to be people who fail to recognize the simplest of majestic Leo gestures. As long as your Leo self is aware that they — the other folks — are simply not realizing the obvious clues? Let it slide — just for now. Just let it slide.
Old term came ringing back, from days gone by. What I recall? “It didn’t make.” What this applied to, specifically, was that there were not enough people enrolled in particular event for that event to be justified. Everyone gets a refund, and the item is dropped from the schedule. The term, almost a shorthand? “It didn’t make,” and I wonder, now, in retrospective, if that meant “It didn’t make enough money,” or, “it didn’t make enough to justify its existence.” I’m not sure. This week offers a situation wherein, as the Virgo in here, the Virgo personality needs to do some promotions of sorts to make sure that the event “makes.” Up to Virgo, as no one else can do this quite right. Some of this is shameless self-promotion, some of this is almost self-aggrandizement, and some? Just a matter of beating the bushes to drive people, like cattle or wild game, towards a destination. Maybe the cattle or wild game isn’t the best example, has negative connotation. But the idea that there is some kind of herding instinct that kicks in? Sure, that works. As the Virgo in this mess of a time? We’re trying to make sure that this “makes.”
Duck, dodge, dissemble. Three verb forms, all start with the letter “D.” Perfect way to greet the week, for Libra, by ducking, dodging and dissembling. While I’m not a fan of avoidance myself, unless it is really manual labor, no, not a fan just ducking out and avoiding the gig altogether, as the Sun squares Jupiter and Pluto? The Sun in Aries, Pluto/Jupiter in Capricorn? All that pressure on Libra, it shows up in a number of different ways, but the best course of action, for Libra? Follow my lead on this, dissemble. Dodge responsibilities. Duck when it looks like the stuff is headed your way.
Avoidance isn’t the answer to every situation, but buying time until other people cool off? That helps. Might be the Libra who needs to cool off some, too. Never can tell, as there’s a certain amount of this energy that gets refracted back at you, the plotting and joining of light sources, and, yeah, the best thing to do? Excuses. We’re just looking for a little extra time for tempers to settle down, for the situations to cool off a bit, and for people to go back to being nice. Quickest, easiest way for Libra? Duck, dodge, and dissemble.
In old-school design, negative space was a premium. In our post-modern age? Old school design ideals still rule. Negative space, especially now, is more of a premium. Blank spaces, not noise, but quiet. In order to arrive at the exact, right, good, and proper Scorpio destination? The way we get there? Start subtracting elements. Less. Now, take away less than less. No, try starting with nothing, and then adding in only the absolute minimum of elements. One of the greatest features of what I get to do? I can do this, now, with utter simplicity. Less.
As a Scorpio compliant fan? Try subtracting. Try taking away that which does not serve the highest Scorpio good. External material? Toss it. Extraneous crap? Jettison. I was thinking through the Scorpio Stars while I was considering some design issues. What’s most important? What absolutely has to be there? What can we all live without? Challenges, ideas, and one neighbor — this goes back to a trailer park in old South Austin — “moving day” was marked by piles of personal effects heaped outside. Some with salvaging. Other stuff? Just need to toss. Hose the place out and find a new tenant. So, this week, for Scorpio? Maybe pile the stuff you want to excise, maybe pile it up outside.
Simple enough, this is a brief period of Sagittarius Austerity that will lead to more Sagittarius Brilliance — eventually. Thanks to the temporary cessation of most activities? The term “austerity” doesn’t exactly line up with a typical Sagittarius senses. Still a certain amount of restraint will go long way in making our Sagittarius lives better. Restraint of keyboard and restraint of phone will help. There’s an impending implosion, and as the mighty archer, maybe we don’t want to play with those forces, well beyond our ken. Holed up, walled off, alone, I like the image of locked — by choice — in a high tower, just my Sagittarius self and typewriter, or better yet, a long plume of a feather, using that as a writing instrument.
In reality? Probably in the back room thumbing a list of enemies into a phone’s notepad, but it doesn’t matter, the image remains the same. Austerity, for this week, as a watchword, as a byword, as a way to get by? Especially if this can be a kind of mental austerity? Pays off large, later, on down that Sagittarius pathway. Present austerity paves the way for future brilliance.
A particular place I fish, a certain local lake? I can walk the shoreline and fish on warm spring days like this, and it’s kind of relaxing, but this one spot, just a little off the point? To be fair, it’s not really a lake, but a cooling pond for a power plant, but that doesn’t matter, as the tepid water is, occasionally, teeming with hungry bass. So this one spot? Pretty sure there’s a stump or an old, dead tree of one sort or another, out in the water. Bass breeding season is over, and the fish are full of springtime fight, vigor and vim. I’m not sure what “vim” is, but I’m sure they got it it. Then, too, that one stump, just off the point? That’s a perfect place for bass to lurk, in the water, and what I like to do is get a bait, drop it just to one side, then slowly pull it passed that stump. The problem? I get the bait too close and the stump tickles the bait, and I haul back thinking I’ve got another fighter, and what I have? Another fishing lure, stuck in the lake. I’ve thought about, on more than one occasion, of wading right on in and fetching the lure back, but I worry loosing a toe to a snapping turtle, or water moccasins, who can be rather nasty themselves. Comes a time it is easier to call it a loss, or, for Capricorn? Remember that the stump is right there. Get close? High chance of a success. Get too close? High chance of losing another lure.
While this bit of advice is drawn from a military manual of arms?
As practical, real-world application in the next few days? This applies, either directly, or in an indirect manner for the Aquarius and that Aquarius mind. “Generally speaking, a five-second fuse last three seconds.” How this applies? Mostly I’m looking at Mars, but the idea is that the instructions say count to five before it goes “Boom.” I’m suggesting that your Aquarius self be rid of the — whatever it is — within a three-count. I seriously doubt that you are handling real ordinance with a fuse, but if you knew an old girlfriend? You’d understand — short temper, short fuse, all about the same, right? Close enough, and that one ex? More volatile than most small arms or ordinance. Simple advice? Clear out faster than you think you need to clear out. Instructions are good — as guidelines. But remember, especially with Mr. Mars frying his way through Aquarius? A five second fuse last three seconds.
Time-lapse photography, especially these days? Cool stuff. And that’s what this week’s Pisces is like, that kind of Time-Lapse Photography. I’m sure you’ve seen this, where a plant is photographed every hour, and then the images are all strung together in a video file, so it looks like the plant is growing, almost like a stop-animation type of film. Video. That’s what the progress in Pisces feels like. In your heart? You’re sure that you’re moving along an acceptable rate, the challenge to this kind of molasses thinking in other — non-Pisces — people? They only see the time between the frames. Looks like there’s no motion — at all. String those images together, and there’s clear evidence of a magical transformation, as the plant grows, or whatever the time-lapse target might be. Plants are good, because the light shifts, and the breezes interfere, shaking the trembling, budding leaves. Growth, positive, and life-affirming, right? That’s what’s in store for this week’s Pisces, but remember, not everyone sees the time-lapse imagery.
astrofish.net/travel for appearances
“Nothing runs on automatic.” - L.W. “Bud” Shipley, Jr.