It’s been a beautiful spacey day–another long moon void of course in the midst of Mercury retrograde/full-moon mania–and every time I’ve tried to toe or even walk a straight line, I’ve accidentally veered in a different direction. I reviewed a movie opening next rather than this week; I poured coffee rather than water on my fire escape garden. Finally, I tuned in and dropped out: got phenomenally acupunked (which may be the ideal moon void activity); bought the last of the season’s pink peonies at the deli; settled by the window with a thick, musty novel, and took in the neighborhood birds and kids tweet-tweet-tweeting in the street, the old-soul breezes sailing in with the night. Even June can be sweetly melancholy on the right afternoon.
It’s been a beautiful spacey day–another long moon void of course in the midst of Mercury retrograde/full-moon mania–and every time I’ve tried to toe or even walk a straight line, I’ve accidentally veered in a different direction. I reviewed a movie opening next rather than this week; I poured coffee rather than water on my fire escape garden. Finally, I tuned in and dropped out: got phenomenally acupunked (which may be the ideal moon void activity); bought the last of the season’s pink peonies at the deli; settled by the window with a thick, musty novel, and took in the neighborhood birds and kids tweet-tweet-tweeting in the street, the old-soul breezes sailing in with the night. Even June can be sweetly melancholy on the right afternoon.