Stars + Beetles

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): “If one theorized about the nature of the Creator from a study of creation,” said British geneticist J. B. S. Haldane, “it would appear that God has an inordinate fondness for stars and beetles.” He drew that inference from the facts that one-fourth of all animal species are beetles and that in the Milky Way Galaxy alone there are a trillion stars for every person on earth. What about you, Gemini?
What could we conclude about the nature of your mission here on the planet if we took an inventory of what you create? What are the experiences, products, artifacts, words, feelings, and impressions that you regularly spawn, and what do they say about you? It’s an excellent time to meditate on this subject.

Unauthorized Magic

Last night, I went “broomsticking” – as Terre calls it when faeries like us go on midnight bike rides, especially on New Moons like last night. I went solo because I wanted to clear the muck out of my soul and I can’t do that if I’m trying to keep up with anyone. My competitive streak makes it impossible to meditate in second place. Hey, I’m a work-in-progress, so bear with me; urban boddhisatvas do not blossom overnight. On my own, I’ve been biking more aggressively, weaving in and out of traffic, taking baby jumps over potholes, doing mini spin-outs, leaving the broomstick parked unlocked outside of delis. It’s not advice I’d recommend anyone but my own twin follow.
Foremost on my mind lately has been the quicksand-like pressure of stagnation enclosing me. At work, I’ve been pissy; at home, I’ve been antisocial; sexually, I’ve been batting zero. With all this ennui, malaise and plethora of Euro-themed anxieties bearing down on my Indian soul, I’ve recoiled into a dark, quiet hiding place and prayed for magic. Not the kind of wiggle-your-nose and make your mother disappear kind of magic, but the koans and riddles and assorted things we tell ourselves to get through each day. The quiet reflections that tell us who we are and move us from one stage to the next. The last couple of New Moons, my wishful thinking has centered on the desperately vague theme of “new beginnings” and revitalization.
The first sign of things turning around came ringing my door at the ungodly Saturday morning hour of 10 AM in the form of 3 Polish guys hired to fix all the buzzers in the apartment building – one of them was a freckle-faced cat-like red giant with big thumbs and a ridiculous piece of ass who spoke almost no English. Days before renewing my “lease” and Cara’s moving out, after a year of throwing keys out the window and meeting delivery guys in the lobby, I can open the door without leaving the comfort of my lair. After nearly a year of continuously sharing the space, I’ll finally have it to myself again. After days of sweating the increased financial responsibility of that freedom, I get word that I have a meeting at work tomorrow to discuss a new position. Perhaps all my bitching and moaning and planting gossipy threats of competitors calling and the general exodus of other people in the company finally sunk in; it may be too little too late, but it’s a change, so I’ll explore it. I’ve edited the resume and bookmarked contacts on LinkedIn, just in case, but I will see how this goes first. After days of wondering where the next writing gigs will come from, I get emails and calls about interviews with Prefuse 73, DJ Vadim and Michael Mayer (as Supermayer, with Superpitcher), and freelance work for OUT magazine – strangely, the first gay outlet on my list.
Come October, I should be sitting pretty, solo, busy. As Fall settles in and the nights grow longer, I should have enough stimulation to keep me purring through the holidays. By year’s end, I will have returned to Cali for the 20th High School reunion and to see my Mom off, as she’s decided with her lifetime partner to return to the homeland. What she will do with the reserved plots at Forest Lawn, I’m not sure. For now, I’m content to let the heat of summer’s madness simply burn away. Bring on the slanted light beams, earth tones and layers.
This morning as I walked through sparse, sunny, breezy Times Square to the office with Fantastic Plastic Machine’s “Love is Psychedelic” bumping in my ears, the Crackberry buzzed. It was Rob Brezny, promising a strange attractor bobbing seductively in the distance….

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): “I wish I had a holy grail to quest for, even it was really small,” writes my Gemini reader Marta, who describes herself as a “wannabe Prometheus.” I have good news for her, as well as for all the rest of you wannabe Prometheans who have been pining for a raison d’etre, a burning desire, or a-not-quite-impossible dream to throw yourself into with 110 percent commitment: Look out of the corners of your eyes to spot the strange attractor (also known as the unauthorized magic) that is bobbing ever-so-seductively on the far horizon.

You-Turn

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): In the coming weeks I’d love you to learn more about how to heal your own pain and wash your own brain and right your own wrongs and sing your own songs. I’ll be overjoyed if I see you grow in your ability to unbreak your own heart and unfreeze your own assets and unleash your own surprises and understand your own motives. This is, by the way, not a prescription for loneliness, but rather for self-sufficiency. In fact, the magic that has been missing from your collaborations with others will probably appear as soon as you resolve to be your own guru.

Na Na Na Na Hey Hey…

Goodbye?
(Woke up with Bananarama on the brain – no apologies.)

The full moon ended with a phone call from a competing mobile media company. Two phone calls. Three in two days, actually. Another pending, plus face time.
A lot of my dreams lately have involved running, revolution, riots.
“You’re anxious”, Terre says.
Restless is more like it. At work last week we had one mini meltdown after another, culminating with my director questioning my style. After more than two and a half years building that team and department and by extension the company from a small start-up to a high-profile spin-off – the incident stung. Since then, I’ve basically checked out; I took Friday off; I’m taking this next Thursday off. I haven’t felt challenged or excited for a while. Precisely what I warned everyone about in all 3 interviews.
At home, there was a confrontation between the roommate and the landlady, ending in me giving notice. “Nobody’s happy here, all this craziness is not worth it.” Of course, she backed down. “I like renting to you,” she said. That, and her dad’s ghost likes me. (She finally admitted he passed away here; he’s very jealous, I told her. But, he likes me.) Of course, because of all the co-op drama, subletting again to strangers can be a pain. Because of related altercations, Terre has also warned them he’s moving next summer.
During it all, I just kept wishing for escape, solitude, renewal. On the New Moon, I meditated on transitions, transformations – and patience.
Over the weekend I bought the bike because I needed that sense of freedom. Last night, Terre and I went for a spin – along the park, across 86th to West End, then up Broadway. It took me about a block to get a hang of the balance and the brakes, but almost as quickly, I was feeling the itch of jumping, skidding, racing. The moon scene from E.T. flashed through my head. For a couple of blocks, I missed California. We’ve decided, like the witches we are, to hop on our broomsticks after work, before bed. “At night, we ride…” is our mantra. It gives me a chance to get used to riding in traffic. In a few days, once I get the feel for the bike and how it moves with the city, I’ll start riding it to work, as long as the weather allows.
I’d also been panicking for a few days because the writing had slowed down a bit. I actually thought I was being dropped by Earplug, BPM and Remix. Until I got assignments from all of the again – Two Lone Swordsmen, A.R.E. Weapons, New Young Pony Club, Caribou, Modeselektor and DJ Dixon. I had just been rambling on to C and T about how I enjoy being a working writer, seeing it as a craft, and not an ART. The thought of that drying up stressed me out. I like being among a handful of hacks that publicists and editors repeatedly approach. Is this a cop-out for approaching 40 and still not being famous for writing the first great novel of the 21st century? Perhaps.
But one of the nice things about aging is that extinguishing one’s ego becomes easier, and – strangely – more rewarding. As I’m writing “Almost Famous” is on TBS in the background. Phil S. Hoffman is ranting about the end of rock n’ roll, the occupational hazards of music journalism, and the general evil that permeates the record industry. And as much as I dread the actual grind, whenever a batch of good stuff arrives it jump-starts my romantic obsession.
So, did I wish all this into being? Is it coincidence that as I panic about resuming the totality of my rent in return for living alone, I’m approached with an opportunity to possibly make more money, enough to make that easily attainable? Could it be that as I struggle to keep my eyes open at conference meetings, I’m presented an opportunity to launch something new and make it possibly bigger and better and more rewarding than previously? Both T and C are warning me to be cautious; neither has a good feeling about the place. I’m such a sucker for this kind of gamble that I’m having a hard time not being excited again.
So, is this goodbye? Or just “Ciao for now”?

Not So Secret Brown Dwarf Star

Rob Brezny’s been eavesdropping.
Brown dwarf? Cool? Difficult to see? Shadowy link? Moi? Pff!

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): You may think that the lights you see in the night sky are single stars, but most of them are not.
They are binary systems, with two stars orbiting around a common gravitational center. Our lonely sun, with no companion sun, is a rarity. Unless, that is, we’ve been overlooking clues that our sun does in fact have a twin. Although the jury is still out, circumstantial evidence is mounting that our system is binary, and that somewhere out there way beyond Pluto is a brown dwarf star carrying on a secret relationship with our sun. If it exists, it’s relatively cool and small for a star, and difficult to see, which would explain why we haven’t actually detected it yet.
Now I’m suggesting that something similar may be true about your life, Gemini: that you have long had a shadowy link with a counterpart whose destiny is intimately interwoven with yours. If you’re ever destined to forge a more conscious connection with each other, it will be in the second half of 2007. And the initial breakthrough would occur soon.