"There comes a point when a dream becomes reality and reality becomes a dream".
Mars and Mercury’s ongoing tango has been evident in the rather overt string of car crashes throughout the latter eclipse period with Mercury retrograde up until now and heading toward a bullseye backwards strike as the two conjunct on the eclipse degree, like a dart unable to spike the center of the target with it’s tail-feathers magnetized to the red spot, then spinning in place momentarily as the bull’s pupil drifts leeward, in reaction the dart recedes slightly, its tail becomes its needle and visa versa, it speeds up to pursue the hot circle off circumference of the the game board in another sign. It’s own precise sign, Virgo, where the Mercury’s dual needles are more slender than microns, and with Mars waiting in the lab, they may get hotter than a salamanders’s lick, but more precise and surgically selective than the spot you hear a spider’s thoughts come from in orchard deep emanations. The little sparkle Star within the web might translate the apple-speak, as the harvest bound shriek in silence, their small screams come through fine filters into our Organ Of Corti played by WaterBears and what Nereids orbit moisture molecules ambient in the early September air, the Virgo Sun spearing specific cones and rods within our sidereal eyes, spinning stop motion color wheels that we advance frame by frame in an in-the-moment replay, with scalpel nimble, poised between forefinger and thumb extensions charged from sudden static surges and ionospheric ping pong.
The wild tides of Neptune in Pisces conjunct the full Moon on the early am of September 6th (3am EST) may have been sinisterly foreshadowed by Saros 145’s New Moon robbery and the storm it brought (something that series seems to do with varying degrees of destruction). Besides hallucinations of high saturation detail dissolving our ability to see the intergraded picture, normally a mosaic of hard and soft focus, might be over inundated with cone orientation, as if our rods are snuffed or drowned, and we get stuck in hyper-macromalism, with potential for the Starlet Specter to possess us, or seduce us into repeating her seductions. That might be a side story, and may be more a prone enthrallment on Venus’ day or night respectively leading up to the Lunar event, as those with a sensitive Venus might find out on the waxy way.
Of course, a Leoline Venus, “turning it on” like Marylin Monroe, and then dodging attention, at least the kind of attention she doesn’t desire dearest, is just one of the sensitive planetary buttons in our personal horoscopes that could get potentially pushed, as raw actions, high voltages, bright floodlights, detailed reports and talking herbacea are all in this weeks array.
The long forming friendship between the thousand eyed balance valve display of expanding equilibrium with motivational aims toward universal harmony set to complete the process no matter how daunting, an automatic and regularly timed fuel feeding system adds the imaginative spirit units incrementally that keeps the Giant Scales Project’s graph climb representative of growing numbers of balanced individual polarities. The submarine of reality suspended in the central buoyancy range, but only by a super effort of spiritually massive proportions, our reward for being motivated to face such Gorgonality on a perpetual moment to moment basis, conjuring the poise of the school child balancing books on their heads congenially, reaps the reward of not having reality shredded in a vortex of blades before our very eyes. This is fine, basically. It is what it is in the Kali Yuga; a good time to have a serious fucking project or two installed in your “life” for the next couple (or thousand) incarnations, so, keep crackin away at it. Basically, the Jupiter Saturn sextile feels like an affirmation of our efforts to restore harmony to our world with the endgame dedication of spiritfire and imagination ration established and adding a sense of security. Maybe, just maybe, we got this, and can carry on, and on, add infinitum… This also tolls another foreshadowing bell; if the planet’s of negation and affirmation have come sextile, then they are nearing conjunction in just three and a half years from now, the next conjunction, or considerable historic step forward, into a two hundred year period of them conjoining in air signs (The first occurred in 2000 in Gemini, the next will be in 2020 in Aquarius). Not so coincidentally, the triplicity element they conjoined in from 1802 to 1980 was Earth, and contained all the events of the industrial age).
Jupiter and Saturn’s sextile is already separating, although, today (August 30th) they are within one degree, and the aspect will still serve as a coloring of wide reflection over the week. In particular right now is the Moon’s conjunction with Saturn, occuring in the western tradition, in the 21st Lunar Mansion, and in the Vedic 18th. Agrippa and the Picitrix both mention gain and harvest but also divorce, the separation of spouses. Indian sources speak of Jyestha as the Eldest Sister, the Middle Finger, the god Indra and radical change. Indra throws lightening, and Uranus (the planet) doing the same as well as radically revolutionizing what it touches. The radical change Jyestha speaks of is that made while your spiritual practices are raising your kundalini but you’re still attached to material life. Maybe now we understand what is subtly suggested in gain and harvest paired with divorce; only after the being ceases striving in material entanglement can the power and authority in nature attributed with an integrated FireSerpent be realized. Interesting then is this Lunar conjunction on Saturn, among the large planet’s courting to a great historical conjunction, who’s historical context, the furthering of the airy narrative, requires at this juncture, radical change. Looking into a 180 or so more years of increasing air triplicity dominance, it would be an understatement to suggest that materialism is well on the wane, in more way than one. The check in today with the Moon in Saturn says, “how does the incredible long-game strain of fixing a broken world feel today?” I need not answer that for you, but point out that surprisingly, Jupiter supplies plenty of optimism to the seemingly insurmountable.
We will most likely receive some jolts of radical change as the Messenger stalks in reconnaissance of the Zone, the single point you find if you turn a line on its end, and play the Path Of Totality flute as if it were designed by Marshal Allen; first in reverse descending scale chaos, breath of fire, and then as the attack and decay recede the structure of the articulation and embouchure stratifies into both impressionistic and realist portraiture; a broadcast of ‘This Alien Life’. The structure that stands doesn’t resist but accepts and channels the electrical surges; all other constructs of the mind crack or are seen for their weakness and abandoned, tossed to the wayside like a leaky saxophone.
Mercury conjuncts Mars on the eclipse degree in Leo on September third trine Uranus in Aries. While the volatile volley ball is getting spiked over the net successively into our feudal banner circle (think Kurosawa's Ran) and blowing up into a million “great ideas” (many of them rebuttals and counter attacks), the Sun looks opposite to Neptune, and we must endure through the test with projections of freely morphing deep sea life phosphorescent transmutation and phase shifting through immortal spectrums with our eyelids held open a la A Clockwork Orange Alex. Maybe this is for our best, or at least our own good. It is certainly as good a time as any to start considering mass mutation. Genesis might be right, maybe our survival does require fur and gills.
Off to the side a little, but surely a quincunx consideration of Neptune is the Moon applying opposite Venus, who’s drama will undoubtedly be spilling from our mugs of tea leaves and coffee stain divinations throughout Moonday-Venusnight. This heavily waxing Moon occurs in the tropical 25th Mansion within Aquarius called by Agrippa Sadalabra and is referred to as the Butterfly Spreading Forth. The two themes we see here as well as in the Picitrix are of power to take revenge and the ability to cause impotence. On this particular occasion it might be best if applied as self inflicted as a sort of safeguard. “Please catch me before I kill again!” writ in blood upon the victim’s wall. Remember that it is Regulus’ degree both the eclipse and Mercury-Mars dance over, receiving Promethean fire and leeway to experiment wildly, and it is Regulus’ exalted power’s downfall to use gained eminence to enact revenge. Looks like the toy is getting tugged three ways by double dogs. This period is perfect for implausible illusions producing positive and profound results in laboratory situations (think Uri Gellar or Altered States) which is fabulous and valuable in its own right, if not absolutely necessary if the radical change necessary to mutate into gilled and furred super-survivors relies on the destruction of materialism in reality (which might be as simple as asking the spirits of Earth and Sky what our next move should be, rather than media moguls or each other); irregardless, this is possibly a hairy situation to say the least for people personally. Do what any level headed person does filled with a cocktail of amphetamines and psychedelics: don’t freak out. Try to keep it cool, but experiment avidly with what’s on hand, play with the twigs and stones at your feet just short of exploding your lab. The Moon moves into the Indian mansion Shravana during this array of configurations, opposite our Starlet Venus in Leo stepping into the second decan where she is crowned Queen Of The Screen. Bepin Behari says in Myths And Symbols of Vedic Astrology that for us to hear the cosmic voice from the Great Silence in Shravana we need a strong Mars with “the persistence of the mongoose, and the eager intellect of a monkey”. With Mercury conjunct Mars receiving Uranus’ current and Neptune putting on a psychedelic film festival for the Sun, I’d say our Monkey and Mongoose are more than ready for rollcall, so, listen for the voice in your royalized artistic nature, make your Muse the Queen here not your Mongoose your king or your Monkey your master, if you get my meaning.
Mercury stations in the evening on September 4th, resuming forward motion by the next day. This is during the Sun-Neptune partile opposition in Mercury’s sign. Somehow this reminds me of the world wishing for Cooper to wake up, and we hope he does 100% in time to reach the Twin Peaks of rulership in Virgo. We want a direct Mercury at least to enter Virgo while the Sun is inundated with Neptune’s cerebral pornography and surrealist subterfuge, and even though our central star is set on seeing what is most authentic, clear and true, Neptune is beyond his lightband, and might be capable of some shadowplay. Just when you think you are sure beyond any reasonable doubt that your neighbor ate your dog, your mail is being delivered to Spain, your sister is a cyborg and your split personality stole your identity, the Sun clicks one degree past opposition as Mars steps into Virgo and your whole case catches fire; all the meticulous notes you scribbled onto the napkins float like orange smiling ash angels to the garage full of eviscerated engine parts at your feet that need to be sorted for reassembly, the drag race is this coming weekend. That’s all well and good, but the drugs haven’t warn off, and all the copious Moonlight helps illuminate is the trails and tracers that still outline the forms of Fae and shadows shapen into Shades. Mercury has been standing on Uranus’ lightening landing pad transceiving ecstatic communications, his radio tower setting sights to pierce the stratosphere, Jupiter only half over with his phone call to Saturn splashes hieroglyphic against the signal, like Undines of the Oscilloscope, whose action distracts the dragrace mechanic cum HAM enthusiast into further fantasies of when she was still a languid beauty bathed in stage light before the celluloid snake that spirals in the canister with a smell of ozone oxide and hot electrical flux, talcum, frangi pangi, Shalimar perfume, opium, Pacific saline, producer’s havana’s smoke, rye whiskey, handsome detective breath hot on your neck, and then SNAP! goes the clapperboard and you realize it was just a dream, and you might be as subject to lunacy as all the other denizens of the sparking and flashing world, then the director raises the cone to his lips and yells ACTION! and you go back to reassembling the engine in your garage, manipulating the elemental signatures of the various parts with white hot fingernails that can dissect metalloid insects and reassign their compound structures for use in probiotic health beverage solutions that retrieve lost identities from pilfering personality splits and sneak offspring of ego through holes in the chainlink lost.
There is a tension between fast and slow in all this, and a drive to do despite a clear direction and plenty of distraction. If you’ve got to push through tasks that have already long ben set, be exceedingly attentive and don’t assume anything is true: indeed, fall back on Hassan-i-Sabbah’s old axiom: “Nothing is true, everything is permitted”. For those of you who have the free-time available, experiments should gladly yield the impossible, just don’t be fooled into assuming that you’ll be able to repeat the success again next week when the reporters arrive; although, Neptune might be on your side leading up to and around the Full Moon to catch it on camera if you desire, so for the photographers and cinematically inclined, this is an optimal time, a generously extended “magic hour”. For visionaries, indulge in the spectacle of your imagination, and hold on tight to your raft of rationality, as the waters upon which you float are not unlike Solaris’ ocean.