So as I'm on a writing frenzy, I've been spending a lot of time at the charming Cape to Cuba restaurant near to the Hemingway Bar (and no, I don't tend to drink during the day!). My line of thinking was that being in a place named after one of my favourite (and I have so many) writers was going to be good for the creative thinking process.
After spending so much time sorting through heaps of my writing and realising that most of it is useable, I'm now pretty much convinced that I am indeed a writer.
I used to be very reluctant to call myself a writer but I remembered this week that the first time I called myself as such was a year or so ago as a I sat in a beautician's chair waiting to get my hair cut. I hate getting my hair cut: I hate the expense, I hate the process and I hate the small talk with strangers who have the power to transform my appearance into something I'm going to love or hate for the next several months. For many years, I had avoided hairdressers and had let my hair grow long enough to almost sit on. But in the Ojibwa tradition, hair represents your life and its growth. It's only cut to demonstrate grief. I had been having a pretty awful year. I was in grief--I had lost a beloved aunt and uncle with weeks of each other--and I was so unhappy in my job. When the inevitable question of "What do you do for a living?" came up, I blurted out: "I'm a writer" to avoid saying I was a teacher (I almost never tell strangers I'm an astrologer--but that's a story for another day). I then thought: "Blimey, I had better make a note of the time for that!"
I had always resisted any temptation to call myself a writer. It just seemed so pretentious. But when one declares something--whether it is planned (elected in astrological terms) or it just happens, it is an important moment. And often very, very revealing.
This is the chart of that moment with today's transits along the outer circle in green:
Now there were several things I knew about the astrology of the moment without looking up anything. I knew that Jupiter had just finished its final return to its natal position in my chart a few weeks before when I had felt so antagonised that I walked out of my job. And I vaguely knew Jupiter was transiting my natal Moon but that's pretty much it. I had absolutely no idea that the asc/des axis was at 0 Libra, nor did I realise the Moon was in Virgo in the 12th house and ruling the MC! And look at the Sun in Gemini in the 9th!! Jupiter in Cancer in the 10th!! Mercury in Aries in the 7th! A dignified Venus! I don't think I could have elected a better chart for a writer. I could have done without Saturn in the 2nd opposing said Venus but hey ho, all charts have to have Mr Misery Guts somewhere (like Prince Charles who has it in his second too).
Transit wise, Jupiter, ruling the 3rd, is on that Moon in Virgo, about to cross the ascendant. It's a Mars conjunction picking up that cardinal T square I had been warning everyone about a couple of days ago. Good old Uranus--bang on my natal part of self (told you I was a stroppy cow) with the god of writing, Mercury transiting. Saturn is transiting the 3rd house--what a great place for a hard working writer. Pluto in the 4th I have natally as well but it is opposite my natal Jupiter. And look at Neptune in the 6th!! The writer loses herself in her work.
It really is time for me to get my stuff "out there" so I'm going to open up the field a bit by posting some fiction here. It's a short story called A Cappella and is about a musician who finds her voice. "A Cappella" comes from the Italian for "in the manner of the chapel". It's unaccompanied or solo music. I like the way it fits in the Jupiter themes of my experience of life these days. And I think the story fits the transits.
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