Sunday, July 3, 2011

The Redneck Capricorn

oly balls guys, have y'all heard about the planet Saturn? Saturn is a hell of a planet. He's "Father Time" the crotchety old man informing you that somehow you are spoiled with all these modern gadgets as well as being miserably unfortunate to not have lived through the "good old days". There is a feeling of restriction and not being able to do exactly whatever you want but being free to get whatever it is you truly need.

There happen to be a surplus of Capricorn Rednecks in the world. Some are so backward they don't want their little women working after they get married or their children dancing to that renegade Billy Ray Cyrus.

The Redneck Pisces

Come with me now. Dig, if you will, the picture. You are walking through what used to be a Roses but has now turned into a permanent flea market. There are rough and shady characters admiring "authentic replica" samurai swords with Confederate flags on them. There are barefoot, sticky-handed children tearing up and down the labyrinthine aisles. You spy a middle-aged couple tenderly holding hands in front of a table. You sidle up next to them to see what is capturing their attention. These two dreamy-eyed lovers are admiring several dream-catchers with dyed blue and purple feathers and tie-dyed t-shirts with howling wolves and dolphins drifting through space.

You have found the lair of the Redneck Pisces. Obvious exits are West, South and an indoor hot-dog stand/sno cone machine. What will you do?

The flippin' moon, y'all.

Chances are, your first astronomical encounter was out in your back yard (if you were lucky enough to have one) gazing skyward at the moon. There are few things that I could look at so intently at that young age. Everybody has a moon sign that corresponds to where the moon was during the moment of your birth. At the particular moment I was born, the moon was ghost ridin' tha whip through the sign of Gemini.

I often notice that my emotions are sharply divided. There's a shade of me that almost is watching me like a fly on the wall, reading my reactions to people, analyzing the way I feel, putting a serial number on it and filing it away to process later. The me that is actually there, would have flounced away several sentences before, cheerfully moving onto an easier thing to deal with. I get myself worked up a bit emotionally and chances are before I've breathed a word about it to another soul I've already dismissed it as being petty and surely just my imagination. I deal with the real, painful, swollen red emotions all by myself. It's only the small stuff that I talk about over and over again, forgetting that I've already told the tale before. Fuckin' Moon in Gemini. They say that "Lunar Geminis" have a way with words. Hilariously enough, I was born with a birthmarks on each arm (Arms are naturally ruled by Gemini along with the hands and shoulders and lungs. There are two of each! See what they did there!?) that are arranged in such a way they look like the constellation Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia in Greek means "She whose words excel". When I put all that together I burst out laughing.

Now that I've told my story, I'll be getting on going through my personal interpretation of the Moon signs as well as recommending some decent places to get a free Natal Chart that one can make sense of.