"The day I no longer do anything that frightens me and makes me shy I will know I am finished as a writer."~ Ellen Gilchrist, Falling Through Space
Bill's Place, West Harlem Speakeasy, NYC |
As I wrote in my blog to all of you
at the end of 2019, I intended to veer away from astrological writing and
forecasts as we moved into 2020. Why?
For a long time I have felt like I’ve
been hobbling along with astro forecasting, like I’ve been trying to cram the
aspects of full and new moons into what I want to really say, e.g. I
would start an article with, “Today we welcome the New Moon in the fixed air
sign of Aquarius, the rebellious, unpredictable Water Bearer. It is a time of
embracing our inner freak, misfit, humanitarian.”
Maceo Parker, Blue Note, West Village, NYC |
When what I really wanted to say was
much more straightforward, not fitting it into the stars, i.e. “What happens
when we open ourselves up to spontaneity, trust, and flow?
We have a night
in New York that includes a granddaddy of funk horn, Maceo Parker, in a night
at the Blue Note in the West Village. Just like that, you’re meeting two new friends who
are Native New Yorkers, around your same age and vibe, and are music freaks just like
you. The night is made complete by catching a favorite DJ, Rich Medina, whom you know from Oakland, who happens to be spinning in
the Meatpacking District. All this is topped off the next night at a true-blue speakeasy in West Harlem (Bill’s
Place) at the same joint where Billie Holiday was discovered in 1933.”
Now that’s getting my juices
going!
Children's Sculpture Garden, Morningside Heights, NYC |
For the last few years, I would box
myself in and would write a forecast instead of what I really wanted to
say. As I mentioned the other day, I wanted to get back to the type of writing
which is really a way of LIVING AND SEEING THE WORLD. Writing is really a
way of life. And my life is my art. In fact: Life is Art.
I’m hoping that you, my beloved clients
and readers, will continue to devour my words. That you’ll come along with me
on the journey. That you’ll find inspiration in these musings. Because, in
addition to being an intuitive consultant and spiritual counselor, I am a
teacher, a truly free Aquarian, a communicator. A visionary.
A writer.
For God’s sake, capitalize that
sh*t.
A Writer.
The Gilchrist quote at the top of
this piece says it all. So good, I'll repeat it:
"The day I no longer do anything that frightens me and makes me shy I will know I am finished as a writer."~ Ellen Gilchrist, Falling Through Space
We found the Journals of Ellen Gilchrist (Falling
Into Space, 1987), American novelist, in our Upper West Side Airbnb. I only
had to flip it open to a random spot to feel my heart soaring. A writer!
Writing about the life of a writer! Gush, gush, swoon, swoon!
Lennon Memorial, Strawberry Fields, Central Park, NYC |
Reminded me of another kindred
spirit, May Sarton, who inspired me some years back with her Journal of a
Solitude (1973).
I always get
a bit nervous when I read such pieces, because they make me quiver with The Fear,
the possibility that bleeds into a knowing, seeing out of the corner of my psyche, that
I might just very well drop out of society as I current live in it, and settle
into a long summer or winter nap and write my brains out.
How to do that while keeping my
pocketbook flush, my retirement going, all of that noise?
I’m pretty much trusting that all of
you are going to stay with me on this journey - whether as clients, students, or inspired readers. That you won’t run and hide
because you prefer to hear what the Moon is up to. That you’ll find some steam
hidden in these posts, steam that will power up your own creative engine: Your Heart. And start chugging toward that latent dream of yours.
It might be starting a Tarot
consultation practice (want to join my Tarot mentoring group that starts
tomorrow?), or having a baby (go for it! Why wait if that’s your dream! Twasn't my destiny as I’m far too in need of solitude, but I want YOU to be a mother or
father if it makes you swoon!). Or falling in love (are you online? Try OK Cupid
and pay for premium service!), or publishing your book (really, no excuse these
days with Amazon online publishing options – ignore the inner critic that says
it must be a New York Times Bestseller. I cannot tell you how many "NY
Times Bestsellers" I’ve picked up and promptly tossed aside as the writing is
often horribly basic and the content is obvious. What’s the word?
Pedestrian? Think about it.)
Your Life is Your Art. You are
Art. Life Itself, is Art. And You are That.
Start mixing your colors, baby.
Nightclub, Meatpacking District, NYC |
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