A Midsummer's Twelfth Night

NEPTUNE IN THE 1RST HOUSE
Identity confusion is going to be rampant while Neptune, the planet of illusion, traverses a retrograde path through the 1rst House, the house of self. There are always challenges when it comes to knowing oneself, and this is a difficult time for those who do not have a firm grasp on who they are. There may be a strong desire for escape from the self.

Nobody does identity confusion better than Shakespeare. Last night, I had the fortune to attend a production of Twelfth Night at the Delacorte in Central Park. This is the first show that I've ever seen at the Delacorte and the first thing that immediately hit the audience was the set. I do not always notice the set when I attend a show, but this set was beautifully constructed with faux grass and rolling hills. Trees dotted the landscape. It truly looked as I would have pictured Illyria to look. The advantage that the Delcorte offers a show like this is the natural outside environment.

Having been invited by a friend, I had no prior knowledge of the cast and I was surprised to see that Raul Esparza would be playing Orsino, Audra McDonald as Olivia, and Anne Hathaway would be taking on the gender-bender, Viola/Cesario. Knowing the first two to be well-known for their voices and aware that Anne was also making more use of her singing experience, I wondered aloud if the show were a musical adaptation. I was assured that it was not. We took our seats in the section that provided closed captioning, something I had not experienced except for at the Metropolitan Opera. There was an electronic board in front of our section, not blocking the stage, of course, that would scroll with the lines. I think it highly enriched the show for me, as a bibliophile and a writer, I absolutely love words and there are very few people who achieve the same resplendent poeticism that Shakespeare does. There's something to be said for reading a play and watching it come to life before you.

And come to life it did. From the moment the actors entered the stage, we were transported to Illyria. There were fabulous integrations of music throughout the show and the musicians were not kept separate from the actors, often stepping from the musical world directly into the Illyrian landscape. From the depths of the stage emerged Viola and her seafaring comrades. I was expecting fabulous performances from the well known actors (at least to me), and I was delighted to find that that extended through the entire cast, from those loveable characters like Maria and Sirs Toby and Andrew to the soldiers who stood by, silently in character, and adding depth to the scenes. I was never taken out of the show.

As the sky pinked with sunset, a full moon (in Capricorn) rose high over the stage, sending beams down upon Belvedere Castle in the background. Even the elements seemed to sense the drama that was happening onstage and Nature herself appeared as a character. The air seemed to pick up whenever the drama increased onstage. It added an extra dimension to the show.

To see Shakespeare's work come to life is always a treat and a treasure. To get the opportunity to experience that in Central Park in an open air forum was truly magical. If you get the chance to see this production, I highly recommend that you take it.

If music be the food of love, play on!

All That Jazz

MOON IN PISCES
The moon, a planet of hidden emotion, just recently entered the sign of sensitivity, Pisces. This all takes place in the 11th House, the house of originality and eccentricity. A romanticized expression of emotion emerges while the moon traverses this sign. It will manifest in odd ways that might not be obvious at first. Exploration will reveal its path.

Last night, I had the experience of sitting through an improvisational jazz performance. I have to confess that although I would love to be the "artist" who is able to grasp the intricate complexities found within the lingering notes of a boisterous brass instrument, I was not a fan. I sat, assailed by the cacophony, attempting to discern the magic pattern behind the music, while dedicated patrons eagerly awaited the next blast. It was unfathomable to me. I could detect no given pattern, no rhyme or reason to the music. It appeared to me to be a series of solos wherein the given performer would demonstrate his prowess with his instrument. I saw nothing more than consecutive showing-off with no regard for the other performers onstage. Strangely enough, from what little I knew of jazz music, I assumed that musicians had to listen to each other to keep some sort of cohesive form. This is not to say that they weren't listening to each other, but it wasn't apparent to me.

In an attempt to understand, I turned to a companion of mine who not only enjoyed jazz music, but had participated in a few performances, and asked him whether the music before me was following a given routine or whether it was created on the spot. He responded that it was a little of both. The musicians, he informed me, were following a set of chord progressions, but within that construct, they had the freedom to improv. This made sense to me.

It does seem to be a metaphor for life. We work within a given construct, but we make decisions that help us standout. There are certain rules, whether they're set by family, society, religion, or by our own sense of personal duty, that we have to follow. Beyond that, we have the freedom to explore our own interpretations of the choices handed to us. Jazz seems to view music (and by my own interpretative extension, life) as a choose your own adventure. Remember those books? For those of you who have never experienced one of these books, at the end of certain pages in the story, you have a choice. "If you want to see Matt go through the door, go to page 52. If you'd rather see him take the stairs, skip to page 147." The story changes depending on the choices that are made, but if you're following the rules of the book, you have to make the choices given to you. You can't suddenly skip to page 204 if the page isn't offered. The story makes no sense.

I developed a different appreciation of jazz music in this light. Admittedly, the music that I heard last night is not that which I would naturally seek out, but the inherent constriction/freedom dichotomy within it is highly attractive. For those who study Kabbalah, the balancing elements of Chokma (expansion) and Binah (limitation) can be found in jazz music. Though my ears were reluctant to accept the sounds overtaking the room, my mind was fascinated by the varying meanings found within those sounds. They declared their own individuality within a world that requires certain acceptances.

I think that's part of why I write. It's my version of jazz.

Omens and Portents and Subways! Oh my!

MERCURY IN RETROGRADE
Mercury, planet of the mind, entered retrograde today. It's sitting in Gemini, the sign which it rules, the sign of communication. It's going to be an interesting time for introspection and expression. There will be an overhaul in the way we think through things, which could be a refreshing change from quotidian mentalities. I just wouldn't enter any contracts for a few weeks if I were you.

With communication being reevaluated, it sparked a new line of thinking (thanks, retrograde!): how do we communicate with the world around us? More importantly, how does the universe communicate with us? There are many "signs" (both literal and figurative) that we experience on a daily basis. Advertisements are the most obvious signs that we see, being actual signs. Standing on the very crowded subway this morning, I couldn't look right in front of me (into the hair of a woman who would have slapped me for such contact in any other context). Nor could I look to either side of me where I was bracketed by two very large men in suits. There was really only one place to look: up. Whoever thought to put advertisements at the top of the subway car was brilliant. When you're stuck on a crowded subway, or even on an empty subway and bored, you tend to look for some kind of stimulation. For a small amount of time, you're entertained (or, in some cases, slightly nauseated) by the colorful pictures on display. On the subway this morning, I saw ads that helped me if I was bankrupt, pregnant, had a hammer toe, or even bad skin. I also so ads that recommended the best new book, alcohol, and English-learning language center. How convenient!

Were these mere signs or were they "signs?" When I was in college and agonizing over the decision of whether to transfer schools, a friend of mine suggested that I go on a "vision quest," a practice commonly traced back to Native American culture. She said that you walk around wherever your feet decide to go (obviously, not into traffic or anything) and look around and notice what's happening around you. That will give you your answer. So I did. I walked all over the campus and saw numerous things, but were these signs? The bird that took flight when I came near - was that a sign to leave? The leaves changing colors - was that a sign to change schools? While this was a valid suggestion, I think this was closer to a Rorschach test for me than actual signs of what to do. It brought out my deeper desire to leave and I began to look for validation in the world around me. While the vision quest may not have worked the way it was meant to, it certainly worked. I had my answer. If I was looking for a reason to leave, then obviously, that was the right thing to do. Turns out, it was.

I still have to wonder, are there signs that occur in our lives that might change the way that we live if we saw them? I've often heard that illness is a sign that you need to slow down. Or a missed connection means that you just weren't meant to get that job or meet that person. Everything happens for a reason, right? We've all heard that at one time or another. Should we have read the signs beforehand? Would that have given us a clue as to what was coming up? And if we did read the signs, could we have changed our destiny?

If I'm feeling down and I look up and see the words "Yes, you can!" on a subway car, was I meant to see them and feel better about myself, even though the ad is about losing weight? How much of this applies? Do we see signs because we want to see them? Is there harm in seeing signs? I don't think so, but I certainly don't think you should always wait for a sign before you take action. That's a "speak when you're spoken to" rule and as Alice (that crazy girl from Wonderland) pointed out, if everyone followed that rule, nobody would ever speak at all!

One of the major areas that I think signs might be a possibility is the iPod. Strange as it sounds, that "shuffle" option can be awfully oracular, can't it? You're thinking of a song and it starts to play. Or the song that reminds you of your friend starts to play and two minutes later, they call you. Does the iPod know? Is music a conductor of universal communication? I mean, it's a universal language. Maybe that phrase has more meaning than we think. I wonder what a vision quest would be like with an iPod shuffle soundtrack. Would that change our perception of signs?

Everything is symbolic. That's part of what gives our dreams such meaning. And dreams are personal, so the symbols mean different things. My dream of a snake may be a sign of danger, but your dream may be a sign of wisdom, and another's dream may be phallic and sexual. It all depends on the context and the person. So that "Yes, you can!" ad that gives me so much hope may be pushing another person towards suicide. Extreme example, of course, but you get the point. A symbol is a sign only if you see it as such.

It might be time to discover our modern-day oracles. It's not such a crazy thought. After all, people still read their horoscopes and astrology is an ancient art/science dating back to before 2000 B.C.E. People are still interested in getting their Tarot cards read (said to go back to at least the 14th Century). There are so many ways that people read life around them: numerology, rune-casting, I-Ching, graphology (handwriting analysis), etc. It's not really so far-fetched to think that subway ads and iPods are the wave of the future. It is the Age of Aquarius (technology), after all.

Plus, it beats the hell out of studying sheep entrails.