Archive | Astro Matters

Clap Hands, Here Comes Ella

Photo: William Gottlieb

When I think of Ella Fitzgerald, who would have turned 101 today, I always flash on this image of her singing at The Downbeat in a fabulous coconut cake hat, Dizzy Gillespie visibly swooning by her side. Really, we’re all Dizzy when it comes to Ella. Hard-working and ever-radiant, she was a true Taurus goddess who channeled Venus at her most luscious and life-bearing. As a young person, I never understood this sign but now I relish its ambassadors, Ella especially, like sun-warmed soil between my toes. Continue Reading →

Pull Out the Pin

I fell asleep early even for me–before 9, even—and slept long and hard. Nine hours, maybe. Was downloaded with dictation from the ancestors and guides. Kate Bush’s “The Dreaming” was playing in my head when I opened my eyes, that’s how on the nose it all was. I could see tweaks that needed to be made to the book pages I’d written yesterday, the darkness I’d been tiptoeing around because, shit, with my Libra moon, I’m just not a fan of ugliness on any level. Yet there’s a thin line between dissociation and positivity. An even thinner one between danger and delight. Continue Reading →

Happy All the Time

I’ve been putting all my energy into the book so haven’t had the bandwidth to check in here. But it occurs to me I’ve developed a nasty habit of only reporting the bad stuff, so I’m going to let you in on a little secret.

Lately, despite all the mishegos in our country and in the world, I feel incredibly grateful.

As soon as the sun pours into my bedroom every morning, I spring out of bed, a free man in Paris. Better yet: A free lady in Brooklyn. Yes, I run through my financial anxieties, my hanging cliffs of what-ifs. But then I leap into my routine. It goes something like this.

Turn on coffeemaker while Miss Gracie meows angrily. Pee while Miss Gracie meows angrily. Feed Miss Gracie to end said angry meowing. Settle back into bed with mug and remind Miss Grace with Pavlovian scratches and kisses that cuteness levels raise exponentially when angry meowing ceases. Ogle the last bit of sunrise, as well as (confession) Foster Kittens. Then put on grown-up lady bra, fetch a scallion-cheddar scone from the Italians next door (Piccione! they cry. Ask Grace why), and sashay down the street to my new writers’ space. Continue Reading →

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