It’s been a strange and heavy time for me lately,
fraught with unforeseen changes, and deep transformation.
In times like these, I tend to retreat inward, and am prone to
hermiting and becoming protective of my silence, my space
to think and ponder whatever may be next. Hanging around
in my chrysalis, swaddled in silk-net shadows, paying attention
to the moon, and her behemoth attendants. This year is full of
eclipses, and this most recent one had been particularly brutal.
So far, quite a few friends I’ve talked to have experienced rough
weeks too – anyone else out there laboring under the plow of a
celestial taskmaster with a whip? It’s as if the stars and planets
were tipping fate off (or into?) balance. If I’ve ever felt skepticism
or bafflement at astrology’s verity, all that is evaporated now.
I can’t begin to explain how it’s supposed to work, but I know
that all of my horoscopes lately have been shockingly accurate.
I was similarly skeptical when I first encountered the tarot, and
the I Ching, at a very young age. My father introduced me to both
when I was around eleven. He gave me the tools to practice,
and books to read,and let me have at it. I remember being so
curious, but also scoffing slightly at the idea that these pieces
of paper could have any bearing on my life. The more I worked
with them, the more they showed me exactly how that could be
possible. There was no vagueness, no bleary affirmations or
unremarkable predictions – instead I found stories and symbols
that pertained so directly to my life, and to what I was experiencing
at that moment. I rarely do readings for myself anymore, but recent
events have left me feeling the need for guidance. I don’t think I’ve
ever done a more interestingly spot-on reading. I love the 15 card
spread, and always prefer it over the traditional celtic cross I was
taught on. Known as the Romany Spread, or the Golden Dawn
Spread, I think it allows for some of the most elegant configurations
and numerical progressions. I hadn’t used that first deck, inherited
from my mother when I was still a child, in a very long time. I still
always use the 1970’s Albano printing of the Rider Waite Pamela
Colman Smith deck for readings and teaching. I collect tarot decks,
and have scads of lovely ones – but this is the one that speaks to
me the clearest. I just love it. For me, it is totally disassociated
from the narrow and often backwards interpretations that A.E. Waite
tried to instill it with, and instead emanates perfectly the more intuitive
occult wisdom of the woman who designed it. I wish there was more
information out there about Pixie Smith! Luckily, there are a couple
of fantastic resources, namely, Mary K. Greer and John Coulthart.
Here’s what the cards had to say that day:

Curious, isn’t it? It all seems very much in order with what’s going on
with me lately, though surprisingly more positive than I might’ve
anticipated. I’m glad of it! I’d be interested in any thoughts or
interpretations anyone might have on it. It seems to be a time
of flux, not only for me, but for the world in general. Times like
these, I’ll take any oracles I can get! The trick is to not consult
them compulsively, though it’s hard when you find one that
really resonates with you. Lately, I’ve been really impressed
with the work being done by Barry Perlman, and I have always
loved good old Astrodienst. Got any recommendations for me?

I am in love with our miniature orchard. The puny little peach trees
that have never grown much, are so heavily laden, they bend nearly
to the ground beneath the weight of so much fruit! Our pear trees
and the pomegranate are also getting heavy with deliciousness –
we’re waiting anxiously for them to get ripe enough to eat. This
time we don’t plan on letting them become prey for stinkbugs
or butterflies, either! Dr. Bronner’s in a hose sprayer seems to
be doing the trick so far. We have a peach cobbler in mind!

Our garden also produces fuzzy little peaches with claws,
and lots and lots of problems! Mr. Renfield Bojangles
(pronounced in the Spanish fashion, please) Whiskerwitz,
also known as Tom Tum, was found hiding from the hounds
behind the hated Nandina bushes, skinny as a bundle of rags
and sticks, with a big wormy belly. His face had been
attacked by some vile creature (maybe a possum?),
and his lower lip and chin nearly ripped off! He also
has a terrible case of ear-mites. We cleaned him up,
and he’s been recuperating and is definitely on the
mend. Of course, we’re supposed to be getting him
in better shape so that we can find him a home, but
naturally we’ve gotten very attached to him! I only
ever seem to have orange kitties – all my life, that’s
all I’ve ever had! I also tend to live with people that
have brown tabbies. Those two always end up being
paired, over and over. Anyhow, little Bojangles has
been an incredible source of solace recently – he’s
basically a living motivation poster. He is the kitten
hanging off the branch. “Hang in there!” is his motto,
all the way. I’m a big advocate of kitten or puppy therapy.
It’s pretty hard to be miserable with a cute baby animal
around, and it’s good to have something to take care
of rather than just sitting around feeling sorry for yourself.
I’ll try and post regular photos of his progress to boost morale!

Rusty Jacknife wants to devour Bojangles. We’ve decided that Jack isn’t a cat
at all, but rather a minor demon who wears an ill-fitting cat suit and has
decided to keep us company. He doesn’t even walk like a cat! Instead,
he has the lumbering gait of a fat possum. He’s so ridiculous and adorable
though, it’s hard to resist his charms – even when he does insist on coating
the velvet loveseat in my studio with a thick pelt of orange fluff! I had to put
down a towel, because it got so grody. The copy of Lula Magazine obscured
by cat-fat was a lovely gift from my dear sweet darling Chad Merritt, who will
be here in just a matter of days! I cannot wait to frolic and watch fireworks with him!

Oh how I wish this lovely hand-tinted moth print could be mine! Alas,
a photo must suffice. I want to plant more and more night-blooming
flowers to attract giant moths to our garden. I have loads of moon-flowers
seeds that never made it into the ground – I wonder if they’re still any good?

In lieu of moonflowers, we’ve got loads of angel trumpets, oh heavenly datura!
The other evening we sat transfixed, watching the huge flowers unfurl. Who
needs television when you have a garden? We even made a video of it
happening! If you are very, very patient, you might enjoy it too: