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"This universe of ours, what is it really? Here we are, centres of consciousness, surrounded by a buzzing confusion which we must try to understand. But we are of the selfsame stuff of the universe -- perhaps ultimately a cloud of energy interacting with other clouds of energy -- and on that account we are in the role more of participants than observers. We cannot distance ourselves from our ambient, hold it at arm's length for impartial scrutiny. This fact has been heavily underlined by modern physics since it sets limits to our knowledge. What we experience is not external reality per se but our interaction with it, so that in a very real sense we are constructing our universe from ourselves."
"Astrology is an art, rather than a science or a system of religious beliefs. But what, then, is art? The artist mediates between different dimensions of life. The images, sounds, words and forms which the artist utilises are languages which can communicate the meaningful patterns of levels of reality which would otherwise be incomprehensible or incommunicable to the rational mind. When we are affected by art, it is because the work speaks to us on many levels: intellectual, intuitive, emotional, visceral."
"People who dismiss astrology do so out of either ignorance or rationalism. Rationalists have their place, but their limited assumptions and methods must be kept out of the arts. Interpretation of poem, dream or person requires intuition and divination, not science."
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A Bit of a Bio:
Astro Inquiry is published in Washington State -- beaming out from Vashon Island. When I was 14 years-old, I made the dogged effort to write to as many astrologers in California as I could, seeing which, if any would take me on as a student. I lucked out with my teachers Ivy Goldstein Jacobson and Margaret Latvala, and studied with them through my high school years. A year later I became a member of Llewellyn George’s Educational Astrology organization in Los Angeles. I helped write, edit and publish the group’s quarterly newsletters... continues
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Goodbye to the Beauty…Here Comes the Beast
Yeah, so I swore a moratorium on any more political posts because — well, SANITY. Too, I’d written the mother of imaginal predicting here.
But today’s such a significant milestone — both literally and symbolically.
Bernie Sanders has pulled the plug.
Friends who have waited for this moment texted me excitedly, that now, finally, the nation can really get down to the business — uninterrupted — of defeating Donald Trump.
Yes, right — should George Romero still be alive and able to direct some necromantic process that would re-animate Joe Biden‘s corpse.
Sorry, as my mom used to say, but: “There — I said it.”
I know it’s verboten now to cast shade on this dadgummit fabulous front runner, but bitch — puh-leeeeeeeeeeze. Seriously? The Dems and their delusions of grandeur.
Part of what doubly depresses me while watching Trump doing his daily COVID-19 press briefings is that on a symbolic level, save for Andrew Cuomo in NY, there is no push back on the imaginal level, that picture-making, animal-centered part of our brain — from where 90% of the population makes decisions and casts votes.
This is why, Maestro of Mayhem that he is, Trump preens atop his coronavirus briefing numbers, comparing the high ratings to our culture’s most significant offerings to the Western canon: The Bachelor and the Super Bowl.
David Talbot summed it all up this morning in his latest post:
“I now feel an even deeper unease about the November election. Bernie’s ideas might be the future of the party — under a younger leader like AOC — but the here and now is the deeply underwhelming establishment choice, Joe Biden. The presumptive Democratic nominee reeks of the party old guard that has never figured out Trump’s appeal or what hit them in 2016.”
Goodbye Bernie, I’m afraid your Virgo Sun did what Virgos tend to do best — influence and guide from a less searing place — removed from the glaring spotlight of American feudalism and it’s virally encroaching dystopia.
What do you think? Good, bad, or gonna get ugly — in November. Transmit your wisdom on my Facebook page.
