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Fringe: Slugs
Aug. 15th, 2025 10:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingbootThis takes the prize for the Fringiest Fringe show I have seen since Famous Puppet Death Scenes.
The premis is that a pair of slugs try to have conversations about nothing, because any actual subject is dangerous territory. But the more they try to avoid contentious issues ('something') the harder and more bizarre conversation becomes. This is as lucid as the performance gets. It's brilliant, intensely creative, and at the same time incoherent drivel. The show's non-linear, one pace, almost one note, and character-free. Often it was extremely funny if uncomfortable, a series of surreal sketches that sometimes devolved to screaming clowns* running around with their genitals out. Not convinced much was added by one of them vomiting chickpeas on stage but eh. One serious issue; while the show's blurb warned of nudity/fake weapons, I wonder if these potential triggers should have been flagged more as the space is small and the actors get very close to their audience.
The sum of Slugs was less than its parts, still not sure why. It was hilarious in fits and starts, but pure shapelessness made it feel longer than necessary. After all that, I give Slugs 5/10.
*Literally. In terms of drama labels, this is clown work based firmly on theatre of the absurd.
The premis is that a pair of slugs try to have conversations about nothing, because any actual subject is dangerous territory. But the more they try to avoid contentious issues ('something') the harder and more bizarre conversation becomes. This is as lucid as the performance gets. It's brilliant, intensely creative, and at the same time incoherent drivel. The show's non-linear, one pace, almost one note, and character-free. Often it was extremely funny if uncomfortable, a series of surreal sketches that sometimes devolved to screaming clowns* running around with their genitals out. Not convinced much was added by one of them vomiting chickpeas on stage but eh. One serious issue; while the show's blurb warned of nudity/fake weapons, I wonder if these potential triggers should have been flagged more as the space is small and the actors get very close to their audience.
The sum of Slugs was less than its parts, still not sure why. It was hilarious in fits and starts, but pure shapelessness made it feel longer than necessary. After all that, I give Slugs 5/10.
*Literally. In terms of drama labels, this is clown work based firmly on theatre of the absurd.
Fringing with Friends
Aug. 14th, 2025 09:19 amsmokingbootThese past few days have been fun, we have laughed a lot courtesy of Friend and Friend's son and son's girlfriend visiting. Friend has been most excellent, son and son's girlfriend have been lovely, the Fringe has been cracking. It's in the heart that the sombre note sounds. We brought Ralik's ashes home the day before yesterday. When I allow myself to admit that it hurts I realise that actually everything hurts. Still, we can smile and do, think and and move. Fringing with Friends is very healing.
We have a few shows yet to see, but so far it's been pretty amazing. I want to list everything here, and realise I'm very tired. This might wake me up.
Frisky's Reshuffle
The story behind this was that Friend's family watched Frisky's videos for years. Friend had bought these tickets as a surprise for his son. It was an incredible show, the basic idea is that Frisky (Laura Corcoran) sings well known songs in styles suggested by the audience. Have you really lived until you've heard the Death Metal version of Like A Virgin? She has a phenomenal voice, interacted with the audience beautifully, left everyone feeling wonderful. I cannot imagine anything she could do to make this show better. 10/10.
Shamilton!
Improvised Hip Hop Musical based on a historical character of the audience's choosing. On our night it was Winnie The Pooh. Ridiculous, insane, magnificent, 9/10.
Fly You Fools!
Parody of the movie The Lord of the Rings and as such requires an audience familiar with the film for it to work. Given that, it's utterly brilliant and near damn perfect. No surprise that it's a break out success. 10/10.
Mythos Ragnarok
We've seen this before but our guests were new to it. Mythos Ragnarok retells Norse myths via the medium of wrestling. It's moved to a big top venue where the stage is a ring surrounded by three quarter seating, much better than proscenium arch for this show. They're wrestlers rather than actors so no oscars are likely, but given that proviso my only criticisms are that they need to sort out their mikes/sound system for individual one-liners, and some could use different techniques, for example the Midgard Serpent could have used fighting forms that include constriction. But maybe I'm getting a bit UFC. None of this mattered. We all loved it, the audience cheering, booing, shouting advice, leaping up and down in their seats. Fab Viking panto. 8.9/10
Shit-Faced Shakespeare
Saw this before though most of our guests had not. Last year it was Much Ado About Nothing, this year it was A Midsummer Nights Dream. The premis is that a truncated version of a Shakespeare play is put on, but with a twist; one of the actors has been drinking for the past four hours. The idea is to see 'how fast the wheels come off this thing,' to quote the compere from not only this years performance but last years too. And there lies the problem. A second viewing, even with a different play shows the formula and repetitions, and to add to it, in last years Much Ado, the actors tried (or pretented to try) to play it straight. Here it was all a bit crazy straight off the bat which dilutes the joke. Still, most loved it and it was well done, leaving me with the sense that it's a must-see but only once. 7.8/10
James Phelan 'The Man Who Was Magic.'
Nicely done though if he's going to do up close work needing a camera, an audience member helping him out is not the way. Also, and this is just a personal preference, card tricks bore me to bits. Yes, they are a magician's staple but I just switch off. Much more absorbing was the mind reading stuff. This was extremely impressive. JP swears he doesn't use stooges and as far as we can tell, that's true. Two members of our group got involved in his routine, and they are still completely baffled as to how he guessed their words and numbers. Interesting. 7.9/10
The Black Blues Brothers
A tumbling show full of charm, this Kenyan troupe was featured in Time Out and The Times, and for sure, I'd call them one to watch. Mistakes were made in the routine but the big seller was the energy and smiles, the amazing feelgood factor and sheer awe at some stunning acrobatics. Solid 8/10.
Knight Knight
Controversy! This show was loved by most of us and detested by one. It's comedy based around a knight's love for his horse, and I thought it was excellent. Anyone who enjoyed The Fast Show might well appreciate the comedy of repetition shown here. But for those who don't, as the dissenter said, 'it's just lazy writing.' This production was a time filler between two shows previously booked, so we had to leave 10 minutes before the end. We told this to the door staff and sat at the back to cause least disturbance when we left. But I am going to go back and finish it because it was easily the most surprising and fresh take I saw this year. R tells me he would sooner poke both his eyes eyes out with a spoon than sit through it again. Eh, he's wrong and I'll go by myself. I can't give Knight Knight a rating til I've seen the whole thing, but I'm already inclined towards the upper 8s.
Space Hippo
If only there had been controversy around this, but alas, it was given a universal thumbs down by our group, with one of our friends falling asleep half way through it, and another giving it 2/10, lowest score for any show we've seen together. Space Hippo is a shadow puppet show, based around the premis of a hippo being shot into space. It's got really great ideas in it surrounded by a lot of sag, far too long. Of all the shows we have seen, it's the only one in which I checked the time. There's a great half hour here somewhere but it needs an editor of metal to chop and shape it into a proper show. I give it one extra point for the unique creation it could be. 5/10.
We have a few shows yet to see, but so far it's been pretty amazing. I want to list everything here, and realise I'm very tired. This might wake me up.
Frisky's Reshuffle
The story behind this was that Friend's family watched Frisky's videos for years. Friend had bought these tickets as a surprise for his son. It was an incredible show, the basic idea is that Frisky (Laura Corcoran) sings well known songs in styles suggested by the audience. Have you really lived until you've heard the Death Metal version of Like A Virgin? She has a phenomenal voice, interacted with the audience beautifully, left everyone feeling wonderful. I cannot imagine anything she could do to make this show better. 10/10.
Shamilton!
Improvised Hip Hop Musical based on a historical character of the audience's choosing. On our night it was Winnie The Pooh. Ridiculous, insane, magnificent, 9/10.
Fly You Fools!
Parody of the movie The Lord of the Rings and as such requires an audience familiar with the film for it to work. Given that, it's utterly brilliant and near damn perfect. No surprise that it's a break out success. 10/10.
Mythos Ragnarok
We've seen this before but our guests were new to it. Mythos Ragnarok retells Norse myths via the medium of wrestling. It's moved to a big top venue where the stage is a ring surrounded by three quarter seating, much better than proscenium arch for this show. They're wrestlers rather than actors so no oscars are likely, but given that proviso my only criticisms are that they need to sort out their mikes/sound system for individual one-liners, and some could use different techniques, for example the Midgard Serpent could have used fighting forms that include constriction. But maybe I'm getting a bit UFC. None of this mattered. We all loved it, the audience cheering, booing, shouting advice, leaping up and down in their seats. Fab Viking panto. 8.9/10
Shit-Faced Shakespeare
Saw this before though most of our guests had not. Last year it was Much Ado About Nothing, this year it was A Midsummer Nights Dream. The premis is that a truncated version of a Shakespeare play is put on, but with a twist; one of the actors has been drinking for the past four hours. The idea is to see 'how fast the wheels come off this thing,' to quote the compere from not only this years performance but last years too. And there lies the problem. A second viewing, even with a different play shows the formula and repetitions, and to add to it, in last years Much Ado, the actors tried (or pretented to try) to play it straight. Here it was all a bit crazy straight off the bat which dilutes the joke. Still, most loved it and it was well done, leaving me with the sense that it's a must-see but only once. 7.8/10
James Phelan 'The Man Who Was Magic.'
Nicely done though if he's going to do up close work needing a camera, an audience member helping him out is not the way. Also, and this is just a personal preference, card tricks bore me to bits. Yes, they are a magician's staple but I just switch off. Much more absorbing was the mind reading stuff. This was extremely impressive. JP swears he doesn't use stooges and as far as we can tell, that's true. Two members of our group got involved in his routine, and they are still completely baffled as to how he guessed their words and numbers. Interesting. 7.9/10
The Black Blues Brothers
A tumbling show full of charm, this Kenyan troupe was featured in Time Out and The Times, and for sure, I'd call them one to watch. Mistakes were made in the routine but the big seller was the energy and smiles, the amazing feelgood factor and sheer awe at some stunning acrobatics. Solid 8/10.
Knight Knight
Controversy! This show was loved by most of us and detested by one. It's comedy based around a knight's love for his horse, and I thought it was excellent. Anyone who enjoyed The Fast Show might well appreciate the comedy of repetition shown here. But for those who don't, as the dissenter said, 'it's just lazy writing.' This production was a time filler between two shows previously booked, so we had to leave 10 minutes before the end. We told this to the door staff and sat at the back to cause least disturbance when we left. But I am going to go back and finish it because it was easily the most surprising and fresh take I saw this year. R tells me he would sooner poke both his eyes eyes out with a spoon than sit through it again. Eh, he's wrong and I'll go by myself. I can't give Knight Knight a rating til I've seen the whole thing, but I'm already inclined towards the upper 8s.
Space Hippo
If only there had been controversy around this, but alas, it was given a universal thumbs down by our group, with one of our friends falling asleep half way through it, and another giving it 2/10, lowest score for any show we've seen together. Space Hippo is a shadow puppet show, based around the premis of a hippo being shot into space. It's got really great ideas in it surrounded by a lot of sag, far too long. Of all the shows we have seen, it's the only one in which I checked the time. There's a great half hour here somewhere but it needs an editor of metal to chop and shape it into a proper show. I give it one extra point for the unique creation it could be. 5/10.
Fringe: Best of Burlesque
Aug. 10th, 2025 10:12 amsmokingbootThe best I have ever seen so far was Blues and Burlesque last year at the Fringe, but that was a cabaret show, very witty and surreal. If you can't portray King Kong being attacked by paper planes flung from the audience, you probably aren't the star for me.
Last night's show was about demonstrating pure burlesque dance, full of fun and exhibitionism at its most unapologetic. The dancers are clearly having a whale of a time and I guess that's the idea, the cheek (oo-er missus!) and the wink of it, sexiness that's funny rather than a turn-on. Having said that, the most interesting was neither funny nor sexy, a dancer taking her narrative from The Last Of Us. She wore a mushroom zombie mask, and her dance was intersperced with moments where she's clearly in spasm, wracked as the infection mutates further. It was deftly grotesque as well as excellent dance.
Would I go again? I'd give it a solid 7/10 for what it is, but what it is doesn't really hold my interest. The idea seems to be to take the stations of classic burlesque routine (taking off the gloves, nipple tassel twirls etc) and find different ways to present them. Five dancers later the formula was looking tired. We left as bagpipes and fireworks sounded the end of the Tattoo up at the castle, and the moon followed us home, huge and golden.
Last night's show was about demonstrating pure burlesque dance, full of fun and exhibitionism at its most unapologetic. The dancers are clearly having a whale of a time and I guess that's the idea, the cheek (oo-er missus!) and the wink of it, sexiness that's funny rather than a turn-on. Having said that, the most interesting was neither funny nor sexy, a dancer taking her narrative from The Last Of Us. She wore a mushroom zombie mask, and her dance was intersperced with moments where she's clearly in spasm, wracked as the infection mutates further. It was deftly grotesque as well as excellent dance.
Would I go again? I'd give it a solid 7/10 for what it is, but what it is doesn't really hold my interest. The idea seems to be to take the stations of classic burlesque routine (taking off the gloves, nipple tassel twirls etc) and find different ways to present them. Five dancers later the formula was looking tired. We left as bagpipes and fireworks sounded the end of the Tattoo up at the castle, and the moon followed us home, huge and golden.
Glitch
Aug. 8th, 2025 12:07 pmsmokingbootI see things. Don't really know what causes it, only that Mum gets auditory as well as visual hallucinations, and I know the stat, 13% of the children of schizophrenics... so I am careful, try to stay aware.
Looked at R today on his PC, blinked and there was Ralik on his lap. Blinked again, gone. Felt very dizzy. But this made it clear to me that I needed to get my chores done, go to town, move myself and try to come back to the ordinary world, be real. I went and did everything necessary, decided to stop at a local cafe for tea and toast. Stood there waiting for my order and suddenly everything got very loud. It reminded me of the lyrics from Angie Baby;
When he walks in her room, he feels confused
Like he walked into a play
And the music's so loud, it spins him around
'Til his soul has lost its way
And as she turns the volume down
He's getting smaller with the sound
It seems to pull him off the ground
Toward the radio he's bound, never to be found...
Nothing remotely as dramatic as that, but it was all suddenly blaring, spiralling around me, more dizziness. Maybe there's some inner ear thing going on. I moved to my table, ate my toast while the noise ebbed back to normal but couldn't finish the tea, and instead dashed home thorugh the meadows. A rabbit ran right across my path. It made me smile and slow down.
Going out was a good thing. If today I suffer from some kind of sensory overload at a gentle cafe, Edinburgh tomorrow might be a challenge, but maybe this is because the house has been so quiet recently and I am not used to normal volume. It's going to be healthy for me to be among raucous crowds, make myself adjust. Even acknowledging the potential lessens its likelihood. Pipe down Angie Baby, nothing's happening.
Looked at R today on his PC, blinked and there was Ralik on his lap. Blinked again, gone. Felt very dizzy. But this made it clear to me that I needed to get my chores done, go to town, move myself and try to come back to the ordinary world, be real. I went and did everything necessary, decided to stop at a local cafe for tea and toast. Stood there waiting for my order and suddenly everything got very loud. It reminded me of the lyrics from Angie Baby;
When he walks in her room, he feels confused
Like he walked into a play
And the music's so loud, it spins him around
'Til his soul has lost its way
And as she turns the volume down
He's getting smaller with the sound
It seems to pull him off the ground
Toward the radio he's bound, never to be found...
Nothing remotely as dramatic as that, but it was all suddenly blaring, spiralling around me, more dizziness. Maybe there's some inner ear thing going on. I moved to my table, ate my toast while the noise ebbed back to normal but couldn't finish the tea, and instead dashed home thorugh the meadows. A rabbit ran right across my path. It made me smile and slow down.
Going out was a good thing. If today I suffer from some kind of sensory overload at a gentle cafe, Edinburgh tomorrow might be a challenge, but maybe this is because the house has been so quiet recently and I am not used to normal volume. It's going to be healthy for me to be among raucous crowds, make myself adjust. Even acknowledging the potential lessens its likelihood. Pipe down Angie Baby, nothing's happening.
The Chatty Tree
Aug. 7th, 2025 08:47 amsmokingbootThe girls are are needy right now. If I sit in the front room at all, there's quickly one on my lap and one beside me, possibly to comfort a sad human but my sense is that they need comfort too. Tomorrow friend turns up for adventures at the Fringe. It will be good for us though the cats, who prefer no change in any way, will find it stressful. Having said that, they know our friend. I know it's early but we must shift ourselves, attend to body and mind, try to make room for something other than grief. Hard though.
The vets bills have been paid, likewise the cremation and container, everything that needed to be done is complete. A few weeks back before any of this happened, R had made an appointment with a solicitor to discuss our wills. The questionnaire is somewhat sobering and we had to curtail the meeting because - well, it's all closing in a bit. We need more time.
We didn't scatter Surya's ashes and we won't scatter Ralik's. I would sooner be buried in a high place near the sea if possible and have a nice tall tree planted on top to help us all breathe. R said he would like his ashes scattered at the same point where my tree stands. Then would be the time to scatter the ashes of our dear pets. We will all be together and apart at the same time. I like the poetry in that.
And you, if you ever need to talk or read a book or just sit, you'll be welcome to visit. All trees know when to be quiet but I would expect mine to be quite a chatty tree.
The vets bills have been paid, likewise the cremation and container, everything that needed to be done is complete. A few weeks back before any of this happened, R had made an appointment with a solicitor to discuss our wills. The questionnaire is somewhat sobering and we had to curtail the meeting because - well, it's all closing in a bit. We need more time.
We didn't scatter Surya's ashes and we won't scatter Ralik's. I would sooner be buried in a high place near the sea if possible and have a nice tall tree planted on top to help us all breathe. R said he would like his ashes scattered at the same point where my tree stands. Then would be the time to scatter the ashes of our dear pets. We will all be together and apart at the same time. I like the poetry in that.
And you, if you ever need to talk or read a book or just sit, you'll be welcome to visit. All trees know when to be quiet but I would expect mine to be quite a chatty tree.
The Devil and the Islanders
Aug. 7th, 2025 10:17 amsmokingbootOnce, three champions of three different islands took it upon themselves to compete in subduing the devil. The first came from an island of warriors so fierce that none had ever defeated them. Their champion was the mightiest of their kind, and he broke the devil into a million pieces with ease, smiling until he saw that where there had been one big devil now there were millions of little ones crawling the earth in malignity.
The second came from a holy island where the churches and temples inspired all to piety, and devotion was so great that blessings fell like rain and wondrous miracles happened every day. From among these came the most sacred of priests who patiently preached to each of the millions of small devils. These fled from the divine thunder only to find each other, and formed once again into the great single enemy of mankind. The warrior and preacher looked at each other, wondering what to do.
The third was no real champion at all, but had been put forward by her fellow islanders because no one else would volunteer. She approached the devil, whose eternal angry mood was now worse after the battles and sermons, and promised that she had no desire to conquer, but wished only to offer him an exquisite pleasure he had never experienced. Sleep was her gift, purest sleep with a promise of no trap,no chains,and no dreams.
The devil could recognise all falsehood instantly so knew she was speaking true. In the millennia past neither he nor any of his kind, celestial or infernal, had experienced slumber and it occurred to him that, yes, he was extremely tired, so he agreed and drank the potion she made. Only the woman marked where he lay and to this day none know if it was beneath a mountain or under the sea. But the sleep was everything she promised and throughout it, all the horrors he had committed and encouraged others to commit fell away, the burning of his skin ceased, and he rested at last. He slept for so long that no-one remembered how much he had hated and been hated. By the time he awoke, Men had forgotten him completely. No more was he used as a mask for what they wanted to do. He was free and so were they.
Refreshed, he went out into a new morning of the world, and harmed neither himself nor any other forever after.
The second came from a holy island where the churches and temples inspired all to piety, and devotion was so great that blessings fell like rain and wondrous miracles happened every day. From among these came the most sacred of priests who patiently preached to each of the millions of small devils. These fled from the divine thunder only to find each other, and formed once again into the great single enemy of mankind. The warrior and preacher looked at each other, wondering what to do.
The third was no real champion at all, but had been put forward by her fellow islanders because no one else would volunteer. She approached the devil, whose eternal angry mood was now worse after the battles and sermons, and promised that she had no desire to conquer, but wished only to offer him an exquisite pleasure he had never experienced. Sleep was her gift, purest sleep with a promise of no trap,no chains,and no dreams.
The devil could recognise all falsehood instantly so knew she was speaking true. In the millennia past neither he nor any of his kind, celestial or infernal, had experienced slumber and it occurred to him that, yes, he was extremely tired, so he agreed and drank the potion she made. Only the woman marked where he lay and to this day none know if it was beneath a mountain or under the sea. But the sleep was everything she promised and throughout it, all the horrors he had committed and encouraged others to commit fell away, the burning of his skin ceased, and he rested at last. He slept for so long that no-one remembered how much he had hated and been hated. By the time he awoke, Men had forgotten him completely. No more was he used as a mask for what they wanted to do. He was free and so were they.
Refreshed, he went out into a new morning of the world, and harmed neither himself nor any other forever after.
Every Day's A Sunday
Aug. 5th, 2025 06:08 amsmokingbootWelp, this morning Mismatch refused her medication. I tend to stick it in Lickelix and cover it in Dreamies, usually an irresistible bribe. Turns out neither were impressed, but Mismatch wouldn't touch her bowl at all.
She and her sister have gone howling around the house, maybe looking for him or just making noise for the sake of it. Revelation for me; incontinence had become a big problem for Ralik, what with his dementia and also pressure from colon to bladder due to being unable to defecate. I was cleaning up puddles of wee four or five times a day, and while I knew some of it was him, thought Mismatch, who's got a few behavioural oddities, was being triggered into doing the same. So much for that theory. Not a single accident since his passing, all perfectly clean. Poor boy. Also, poor girl, being secretly blamed by me! But seeing as I never told either of them off for it, I won't reproach myself too much.
We've had very kind invitations from friends. After the Fringe it's been suggested we could pop down to Morecambe and meet an excellent mate at a gig, then go on on to see others at the lovely house in Wales. This all sounds great. That house is so sweet to me, some of my best mornings spent sat on the doorstep watching the mountains while the sun warmed my bones. But I hesitate. Last time there I was in the throes of cancer, now there's this, don't want to be always bringing dolour to my friends. On the other hand the arrangement would be a while off yet. Worth giving it some thought.
I won't be doing much today. Right now every day's a Sunday.
She and her sister have gone howling around the house, maybe looking for him or just making noise for the sake of it. Revelation for me; incontinence had become a big problem for Ralik, what with his dementia and also pressure from colon to bladder due to being unable to defecate. I was cleaning up puddles of wee four or five times a day, and while I knew some of it was him, thought Mismatch, who's got a few behavioural oddities, was being triggered into doing the same. So much for that theory. Not a single accident since his passing, all perfectly clean. Poor boy. Also, poor girl, being secretly blamed by me! But seeing as I never told either of them off for it, I won't reproach myself too much.
We've had very kind invitations from friends. After the Fringe it's been suggested we could pop down to Morecambe and meet an excellent mate at a gig, then go on on to see others at the lovely house in Wales. This all sounds great. That house is so sweet to me, some of my best mornings spent sat on the doorstep watching the mountains while the sun warmed my bones. But I hesitate. Last time there I was in the throes of cancer, now there's this, don't want to be always bringing dolour to my friends. On the other hand the arrangement would be a while off yet. Worth giving it some thought.
I won't be doing much today. Right now every day's a Sunday.
Red, Black, and Spatula
Aug. 4th, 2025 08:22 amsmokingbootPainted this on saturday. And while I can appreciate that I might well be the only person anywhere who could like this, I am satisfied. Making it felt good, half made-up half-remembered figures and places. Not sure about imposing a narrative. Perhaps there's something to be said for letting the observer identify shapes with which they resonate, respecting pareidolia as part of the process. One - but only one - pattern comes from that recurring dream of hiding on a mountain in the dark with soldiers advancing from below. But I can hardly call it Coming Round The Mountain.
So Red, Black, and Spatula will have to do.
So Red, Black, and Spatula will have to do.
Ralik
Aug. 3rd, 2025 07:41 amsmokingbootWhimsy once asked me how many cats I had.
'Four' I said.
She let out a low whistle. 'That's a lot of pain coming,' she warned.
True, but what can you do?
Here is my boy.
Young
Mean teen
With girlfriend
Ageing (he loved thyme; these last few weeks he couldn't groom himself properly, so I would brush him with it, or crush it in my hands and rub it into his fur)
Very old, very loved
'Four' I said.
She let out a low whistle. 'That's a lot of pain coming,' she warned.
True, but what can you do?
Here is my boy.
Young
Mean teen
With girlfriend
Ageing (he loved thyme; these last few weeks he couldn't groom himself properly, so I would brush him with it, or crush it in my hands and rub it into his fur)
Very old, very loved
The Kindness of Stars
Aug. 2nd, 2025 04:12 amsmokingbootI cannot write of him yet. My hands stop at the keys. But writing will be good for me, it always is.
Woke at 4.05, went to the window to see a star hanging bright in the sky, clouds banded above and below it. Confused, my head throbbing because last night I got drunk in a way I have not done in years. How can it be Venus? I thought, this is the window through which the sun comes up. Took me a moment to remember she is the Morning as well as the Evening Star.
Bereft yesterday, I did something else not done in years; I cast an horary chart. The question Is he OK? was fatuous but pain is not clever. The ascendant was in a last degree which traditionally warns that the question comes too late and nothing can be done. Moving on, the chart seemed determined to bring me kind stories and lovely mythological profiles. First his parents; here Papa was represented by Mercury undergoing a rare astrological event; Cazimi it's called, when a planet is considered purified in the centre of the sun, the mind elevated and conjoined to the heart of the King. Mama? Signified here by Jupiter in its sign of exaltation, abundant, generous, Big.
But of him, where is he? I do not mean his dear little body but the spark, the soul of him. What was I asking exactly? Does the little girl want to know if her kitty is in Heaven? The pathos stings but still.
He was represented by the ruler of the sixth house, the portion of the chart which governs pets. Aries on the cusp gave him Mars, feisty boy, as his significator, find it and the astrologer finds him. Mars was in the eleventh house, the genial mansion of allies that classical astrologers called Bona Fortuna, the House of Good Spirit. The seventeenth century astrologer William Lilly called it the place of 'comfort and relief,' the safe harbour, all about security and restoration. There now. He's with good friends and all is kindness. Be comforted, child.
I have so many great memories about him, why bother with this stuff? Venus shining in the dark beyond my window. The reality is that I have lost him, and as I write it, begin to cry again. So yes, time to wrap myself in stories and stars. Tomorrow I will be wiser. Or not.
Woke at 4.05, went to the window to see a star hanging bright in the sky, clouds banded above and below it. Confused, my head throbbing because last night I got drunk in a way I have not done in years. How can it be Venus? I thought, this is the window through which the sun comes up. Took me a moment to remember she is the Morning as well as the Evening Star.
Bereft yesterday, I did something else not done in years; I cast an horary chart. The question Is he OK? was fatuous but pain is not clever. The ascendant was in a last degree which traditionally warns that the question comes too late and nothing can be done. Moving on, the chart seemed determined to bring me kind stories and lovely mythological profiles. First his parents; here Papa was represented by Mercury undergoing a rare astrological event; Cazimi it's called, when a planet is considered purified in the centre of the sun, the mind elevated and conjoined to the heart of the King. Mama? Signified here by Jupiter in its sign of exaltation, abundant, generous, Big.
But of him, where is he? I do not mean his dear little body but the spark, the soul of him. What was I asking exactly? Does the little girl want to know if her kitty is in Heaven? The pathos stings but still.
He was represented by the ruler of the sixth house, the portion of the chart which governs pets. Aries on the cusp gave him Mars, feisty boy, as his significator, find it and the astrologer finds him. Mars was in the eleventh house, the genial mansion of allies that classical astrologers called Bona Fortuna, the House of Good Spirit. The seventeenth century astrologer William Lilly called it the place of 'comfort and relief,' the safe harbour, all about security and restoration. There now. He's with good friends and all is kindness. Be comforted, child.
I have so many great memories about him, why bother with this stuff? Venus shining in the dark beyond my window. The reality is that I have lost him, and as I write it, begin to cry again. So yes, time to wrap myself in stories and stars. Tomorrow I will be wiser. Or not.