Archive | Astro Matters

Summer of Reckoning, Summer of Love

kehinde wiley Astrologically, the heavens right now resemble those of 1969. So why is this the opposite of the Summer of Love? Is everything wicked in our culture–everything rotten that’s been simmering like the worst witch’s stew—coming to a boil so we can recognize it, expel it, brew something better? I incant, I pray, I roll up my sleeves to make it so.

The day after the shootings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, I was riding on a rush hour subway to a Black Lives Matter march to be followed by a screening of the Ghostbusters remake. (An incongruity that underscores how irrelevant I find my work lately.) Around me, shoulder to shoulder, elbow to face, stood the rainbow of New Yorkers that you can find on any MTA subway car at any minute of the day. Everyone looked worn, weary, wary. It wasn’t just me, I was sure of it. If there’s ever been a moment on a New York City subway uninformed by centuries of financial inequities, gender politics, religious wars, and, yes, slavery–and I highly doubt it–this most definitely was not it. Continue Reading →

Lilacs and Chives for Everyone

Screen Shot 2016-05-11 at 8.42.07 PMThe weather has been cold, damp, interminably British. I inadvertently cut off most of my mermaid hair in what I’m calling the retrograde special.  And I really, really hate Hallmark holidays. Under the auspices of “if you can’t saying anything nice,” it’s seemed wisest to keep mum. (Pun intended, obviously.) But head honcho Jupiter finally went direct again, I’m starting to see how my new cut can reference Debbie Harry and Veronica Lake, and the weather today was gorgeous–strong sunshine, gentle warmth. I actually dared venture to the greenmarket, where I found the loveliest things: skate, farm-fresh eggs, chives with pretty purple buds, red and green shell-leafed lettuces, ramps, sheep milk yogurt, you name it. Best of all, most everyone I love seemed happy, which made this extroverted introvert happy. So I’ve decided to officially emerge from my shell. On this mild May evening, I send you lilacs from my bedside table, the snuggle of a certain permakitten, and the peach and violet sunset gracing everyone smart enough to look. In the immortal words of Mr. O’Shea Jackson, “Today was a good day.”

A Fanny Pack Named Trump

Screen Shot 2016-05-04 at 9.00.08 PMAs of last evening, Donald Trump is the presumptive Republican nominee for U.S. president, which means that all the dystopias are real and that the hatred lurking in our increasingly bifurcated country is blowing up hard. On the other hand, five planets are in retrograde, which happens approximately once a decade. I keep telling myself that with so much astrological mayhem afoot, we’re essentially inhabiting Bizarro World right now. That, come November, everything will smooth out and the Orange Man will die on the vine.

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