January 1, 2016




Roberto Piqueras x Alis Pelleschi - Installation 2011 exhibition



The Sun moves toward Pluto. Venus and the Moon prepare to slip into something more Pisces, fish kisses, intoxicated dreamers, by Tuesday the sky is wet.

Mercury thinks back to Sagittarius, where have you stashed your true beliefs?
You can let them fuel your goals now. Saturn trine Uranus makes changes unusually possible. It’s ethics. But not only ethics, it’s freedom, opportunity, chance. A hardship that becomes an asset, necessity becoming the mother of Chiron, (or something like that…) Irrepressible joy that you need to experience in order to remember why you breathe!

In Sagittarius you find the reasons behind the bottom lines that you are currently wrestling with in Capricorn. Mercury reminds us that if we are to live, we must grow. Your life must have, must BE an adventure.

What do you think about the type of security provided by an open door, rather than a closed one?

Pisces tells us to dream it.
The Capricorn Sun will keep us in check, and on task, but we need the sweet release, the devotion, the pleasure.

~ How to Glow

Either that or the police blotter.
Someone steals a bicycle because he wants
to fly. Wants a new heart. A hive on the porch.
There’s someone suspicious in the graveyard
with a torch. What the librarian needs
she cannot say but she’s listening
to Bulgarian language tapes in her car anyway.
Sure beats eating your own pancreas.
The difference between surrealism and dada
like the difference between first- and second-degree
manslaughter hardly matters to most of us.
What you get is a chalk outline of dust,
bells for no reason, mouthfuls of starlight
rusty as blood, gra gra gra gra grape stems
stammering of summer and lots of dreams
on paper like in analysis and graduate school.
The difference between graduate school and analysis
is approximately $20,000 although both
occur mainly lying down. The white coats
in the lab peer at the microscope slides
and think it’s bad news that the blood
is a wolf’s blood. Dear Oblivion, I love
your old song. Let a spinning wheel be
my fireplace, the lit-up nerves of jellyfish
my universe. The greatest indication of truth
is laughter and maybe now I’m ready
to talk to my mother and father. This morning
I have the distinct impression my house
is about to crumble so let rubble be my crown.
Release the hound! What a joke, she’s about
a hundred years old and when you look into
her almost-no-one-home eyes, you come to a river
and when you come to that river, float.

-Dean Young ~


Just because of you, New Year.

I hope you did some of this:

and it’s never too late for the Avalanches

Love YOU!!!



I’ll be back a.s.a.p. with a look at 2017!
I know!!!!

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