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Archive | Astro Matters

Fall Back, Fall Back

November 4, 2018 in Age Matters, Art Matters, Astro Matters, Cat Lady Matters, City Matters, Essays, Ruby Intuition, Spirit Matters

By Lee Krasner

Daylights Saving Time today. Most view it as an extra hour of sleep. I view it as an extra hour of night.

In my head it’s a rhythm, a mantra, a sick, squalid croon. It’s why the Legend and I have fallen into old habits–him coming around only when it suits him, never ushering me into his world. Me swallowing whatever crumbs he offers, blowing up badly when they become indigestible.

Fall back, fall back.

The light is more beautiful, also more precious. There’s so little of it, you see.

Yesterday I met with my eldest goddaughter on the Upper East Side. Both of us live in Brooklyn but make formal friendship dates while getting acquainted as adults. She is in her early 30s and I am in my late 40s, high time we learned to appreciate each other as peers. We met when I was a recent college graduate and she an elementary schooler, so our relationship has undergone serious growing pains over the years. Me relying too heavily on her preternaturally adult wisdom, doing her the same disservice done to me decades before. Continue Reading →

Howl with the Hunter’s Moon

October 24, 2018 in Astro Matters, Ruby Intuition, Spirit Matters

Tonight’s full moon, otherwise known as the hunter’s moon, is absolutely destabilizing, which is the opposite of what we expect from good-citizen, good-life Taurus, where it is taking place. That’s because this moon is conjunct game-changing Uranus while Venus, which rules Taurus, is still retrograde. In lay-lady’s terms, this means we’re being asked–nay, forced–to reassess our personal resources—what we have, what we can summon— and to increase our receptivity, which is what Venus is really about, especially to the divine resources of the universe. So it’s no surprise that today all my tarot readings contained the Empress, the High Priestess, and Nine of Pentacles, otherwise known as Venus in Virgo; powerful icons of radical receptivity, all three. In other words, it’s time for us to open our hearts, minds, wallets, and, dammit, legs lest the Good Mother do it herself. During this season’s major cosmic push and pull, I suggest saging, salt-bathing, majorly unplugging and, of course, scheduling a reading with me if you’re so inclined. Intuitive sessions are especially illuminating in this glow.

The Church of Miscarried Moments

October 12, 2018 in Age Matters, Astro Matters, Church Matters, City Matters, Queer Matters

I had this dream about the Legend last night, about our first real date when we were dressed up, cufflinks and heels and pomade and lots and lots of red lipstick and spicy cologne. A swank event with his wide smile and my gap-toothed grin, then a midnight midtown walk and drinks in a secret bar we stumbled upon when most everyone was asleep. In the dream, we moved closer together in the cab at the end of the night–not, as it really happened, with me leaning timidly against his bound chest but with us kissing kissing kissing as the car soared high above the city, a kiss that didn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. A kiss we could trust. Me climbing on top of him, he reaching into me, buttons unbuttoning, zippers unzippering, fingers and mouths everywhere on a bridge hurtling us somewhere better–somewhere I wouldn’t panic just when the going could get good, somewhere he had plenty of time and inclination, somewhere no one would jump off, somewhere we could flourish together. It was a dream of the we that didn’t happen, and it was tough because things felt so sweet and got so sour. Waking up was brutal.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy