It's Virgo season. How will you Crane?

If you walked into my office, you wouldn't believe it's mine.

Most people know me as a pretty exacting personality. I used to be worse, but things change you after awhile. So I'm not as exacting. And when I say "exacting" I mean Type A. Or controlling. Or persnickety. But, like I said, things change you. I've mellowed out this part of me. Having lost a couple best friends in the last year, having health scares in the same year, having to deal with a senior dog who's forgotten her toileting manners - these things add up and you start to realize that sometimes finetoothcombing can cause more constriction than freedom, more pain trying to make things perfect rather than just allowing things to "be" and to breathe. You shift.

So it's interesting to see my office these days. The place I allow no one to enter. Truly. If someone needs something from my office, I jump up and say, "That's cool - I'll get it". Then run up the stairs to the office, open the door (it's always closed), enter and CLOSE THE DOOR BEHIND ME, then get said item, and go through the open door-close door process again. This all happens quickly, like I'm trying to keep some sort of horrible, squalid force lurking inside the room from lurching forth and terrorizing the countryside.

Truth: my office is quickly becoming "the space under the stairs". And I'm not talking about Harry Potter's bedroom.

Friends, it's Virgo season. And not only is it Virgo season, it's Super Strength Virgo Season*, with a stellium of planets nestled within its 30 degree span in the astrological wheel. Lots of Virgo energy is being activated, especially this week. Expect things to get cleaned out - even if you weren't necessarily planning to sweep them out. Also, Virgo triggers obsessive-compulsive activity. So, yeah, you'll be obsessing, you'll be cleaning, you'll be obsessing about cleaning, you'll be obsessing about the things being cleared out right under your nose. You will "Niles Crane" your chair before sitting. You'll "Niles Crane" your world - and watch Niles Cranian energy hurry in with a napkin before you know what's hit you.



So breathe with this. Know this energy is out there. And use it to your benefit. Don't allow it to rule you.

Back to my office. What is inside the depths, the dark door, the unseen crypt of shadows and tears, you may ask? Actually, what's in there is a lot of "almosts" and "shoulds". The poster I almost framed. The vintage items I should sell. The cards I almost sent. The creative projects I should really start.And they piled up or became lost because of life, because of set backs. But they still loom and they demand action. And none of these things will be embraced with creativity or passion, unless I "Crane Away". Unless I take my imaginary napkin and decide, for once and for all, which of the piles of almosts and shoulds are going to be "wills" and "cans" - and weed out those that no longer serve. Because that's working with Virgoian energy.

So, gentle friends, pull out the chair and give it a good cleaning. Not because you should, but because you will.

August 15 - big things ...

Back in 2003, a ragtag group of us, decked out in "Mad Max"-ish gear, did a post-apocalyptic version of "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" from "Cabaret" - because Mr. Crowe so requested it (he had ties with a company member of Circle Theatre; that's how we got the "gig").  He loved it; he even gave us a pep talk backstage before curtain.  And, after the show, we got to hang for a bit with the band.  And the ladies all got flowers and a bottle of wine.

THE Russell Crowe.  He's very sweet.

I was just pondering today.  Quite often, during the middle of August, I have big things happening.  Last year, I was finishing up my tours for my book, "The Cotton Candy Road Trip" (with the exception of a visit to Santa's Village Azoosment Park).  Back in 2003, I was part of a group of folks from Circle who were essentially "hired" by THE Russell Crowe to open his show at the House of Blues.  Yes, you read that right.  I got to "work" with Russell Crowe.  

No, really.  This really happened.

I really should check my astrological chart to see what's going on in mid-August, because every year brings with a flight of fancy, something exciting.  Like today: an interview I did for the Chicago Tribune was published about the aforementioned Santa's Village and a portion of it talks about my book!

http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/chi-santas-village-amusement-park-20120814,0,6360507.column

And I'm in a musical review over at Wheaton Drama wherein 22 of us do the equivalent, separately, of a lead role in am musical (read my 8/13 blog post).

Egads, I enjoy the Ides of August.

That wacky Leo-Aquarius Full Moon, "The Planets", the "Bewitched" house and other things.

Okay, so then.  I had no idea there was a house in Santa Monica which was the inspiration for the house set used for "Bewitched".  Nope, although I'm this uber fan of the show, I don't have it all memorized, nor do I know every scintilla of trivia.  I just know that it's been an inspiration to me since I was a pre-schooler and that my spirit guide's name is Samantha.

So when a friend of mine posted the photos of the actual house and the "set" house on my Facebook wall, I did a flip over imaginary uneven parallel bars like an Olympic gymnast.

Holy Bisquick in a pan!!

And my friend just assumed I'd already made the pilgrimage out to see it.  Sha - NO!  But I'll most definitely add it to our itinerary when next in Southern Cal.

Aquarius, the Water Bearer, all cosmic-like.

So, alright, there's that.  Then I opened the inbox today to receive a newsletter from Molly Hall of About.com Astrology.  Come the early hours of August 2, this Thursday, there will be a Leo-Aquarius Full moon.  Let me fill you in about the ramifications of said moon.


And now, I'll let you in on something a little more personal.  I'm an Aquarius, and guess what my rising sign is.  Yeppers, that would be Leo.  So I'm essentially taking a bubble bath in some of the most cosmically aligned potion you could ever imagine finding at Sephora.  And it must smell like violets and citrus and vetiver, and the water never changes from the perfect soaking temperature, and while I'm soaking, I'm being met by Samantha my spirit guide who takes me to a starry, glittering castle and opens a door to the upper most parapet and therein lies all the answers to all Universal queries ...

Alrighty then.  I'll flit back down to Earth and tell you that, in fact, as the Leo-Aquarius moon approaches, I'm going to attend the Ravinia festival tonight with my sweet hubby; this is an event we've been giddy about for months.  The piece which we'll be enveloped by this evening?  Gustav Holst's "The Planets", an orchestral suite inspired by the seven planets then known by Holst back in the mid 1910s.  The suite has seven movements, each named after a planet and its corresponding astrological character (Mars, the Bringer of War; Venus, the Bringer of Peace; Mercury, the Winged Messenger; Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity; Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age; Uranus, the Magician; and Neptune, the Mystic).

(This Mid-Century Mystic is filled with avarice over the costumes the folks are wearing in that vintage LP cover, let me tell you.)

As my airy Aquarian mind grasps to find a way to tie this blog rant all together, it finally decides to leave that up to you, dear reader.  I'll probably report back in a few days, after the cosmic cymbals crash in the sky and Leo roars and Aquarius blinks her eyes and thinks, "Wow.  Groovy." And the lion follows the path the water bearer's celestial river spills toward, in an ever-expanding search for full moon power and magic.