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Poetic License
Filed Under: Poetic License
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Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
The awesome thing about made-up horoscopes? The stars take requests. Comment with your sign and wishes, and I'll use them as inspiration in the coming weeks. Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Listen to the This American Life episode titled "Unconditional Love." Think about attachment and risk. Don't listen to it on the bus, though, because you WILL sob. Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): I'm writing a love poem about Pennsylvania for this contest and I'm having a hard time fitting in the puns I love so much; Starucca Creek asking "Viaduct?" Driving through the mountains asking "Who poked whose nose?" I may leave them in anyway. Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): You have to keep reminding yourself, no one can hear what you're thinking; your brain isn't turned up like a too-loud iPod on the bus. Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): I had a dream about you. You were so solid, none of the shimmery, diaphanous quality that you have in waking life. Find something grounding to do. After a while, no one will be able to see through you. Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Plow through emotionally difficult situations as if they were coats in a wardrobe. What could be waiting for you besides a lamp, a snowy hillside, and possibly Mr. Tumnus. Aries (March 21-April 18): Around the time that a friend of mine started going around in drag as another friend (sort of a Single White FTM situation), I realized that really there's no getting to know people one on one, that identity is porous and shifty, like a lenticular postcard. Taurus (April 19-May 18): In the words of indie-pop Taurus Gregg Yeti, "Your poetry never prepared you for this." You need additional training, possibly in social psychology or maybe geometry for design. It's time to grow some new neural pathways. Gemini (May 19-June 21): Gertrude Stein said, "Everything is so dangerous that nothing is really frightening." Buy that view you've been shopping for, start your novel (It's NaNoWriMo, after all!), call that long-lost friend. Cancer (June 22-July 23): You are a system of equations with infinite solutions. Your choices fan out like fractals or pile up on the same beautiful plane — whatever you choose, you are full of rich variables. Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Last Sunday, my wife and I took a leafing trip to Lancaster. We strolled around looking at the beautiful old town, got homemade ice cream with the best chocolate jimmies in the world, then sat down in the park to make our "It Gets Better" video. Turns out there's a lot to survive for, even just in that one day. Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): You'll be free soon from whatever it is. The shouting messes in your life will go mute, the bruises will fade, and the riches will pour in. Remember your many, many lantern-talents. Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Reality show contestants routinely say "I'm not here to make friends." You can hear a montage of these here. The thing is, though, those aren't always the winners! You actually are here to make friends.
Filed Under: Poetic License
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Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Happy birthday-month! Here's what I appreciate about you: You appear in all my dreams about gambling. You appreciate lightning bugs' freedom. You have a tendency toward hats. Give yourself something glowing this week, something warm and a little retro.
Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): So called "free spirits" often seem (to this Virgo, at least) to be the most enslaved. Embrace your logistics. See how many things you can lavishly plan for. Light a candle for your perpetual calendar. Make a toast to every step you've purposefully taken. Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): It's like in that movie All Summer in a Day. A little girl from Earth is living on Venus, where it does nothing but rain. One day, the sun comes out, and some mean Venus girls lock her in a room. A streak of sun falls across the floor and onto her hand. Except here, you know, it's sunny a lot more often. Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Lily Tomlin said "Forgiveness means giving up all hope for a better past." I'm trying to do this, but I keep getting snagged on little nails and splinters of love and regret. Love and luck to us both. Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): My very, very wise friend Shanny Jean told me that whenever she feels impressed/enamored/ intimidated by someone, she resists the urge to run away and instead asks them to be her pen pal. This is some of the most useful advice I've ever gotten. Aries (March 21-April 18): One of my favorite grown-up poetry students sent me an acceptance letter that she got for some of her poems. I had the following two thoughts: 1. THAT IS AMAZING! I am so PROUD! and 2. That journal rejected me...Mostly number 1, though. Taurus (April 19-May 18): Andy Warhol said â"An artist is someone who produces things that people don't need to have but that he — for some reason — thinks it would be a good idea to give them." Apply this any way you want to, from murals to mix tapes to simply giving someone the what-for. Gemini (May 19-June 21): The Dandy Warhols said "A long time ago, we used to be friends/But I haven't thought of you lately at all/If ever again/ a greeting I send to you, short and sweet is all I intend." Lies! Lies, I tell you.Cancer (June 22-July 23): ): In case you didn't get to watch the season finale of Mad Men, here are some anti-spoilers for you: Betty didn't have any breakthroughs, Don "Only likes the beginning of things," and Sally is getting closer and closer to her Valley of the Dolls-esque spinoff.
Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): The wife and I are obsessed with Veronica Mars. Originally, I was distrustful of Veronica because she is an intrepid So-Cal blondie who is not Buffy. But the adorableness of Kristen Bell won out, and here we are. Veronica's advice for you is: "Here's what you do ... you get tough."Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): The Last Weatherman is a new poem by Derrick Brown. It's all about this weatherman who keeps flubbing his lines until he turns them into poetry. I like stories about how you fuck up until you find the work you're meant to have. Jeez, I hope they're true.
Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Luckily, you are not a Calvinist. Your fate is not predetermined. Decide for yourself whether or not you have been given grace, and then go out and do something fun.Note: The awesome thing about made-up horoscopes is that the stars take requests. Comment with your sign and wishes, and I'll use them as inspiration in the coming weeks.
Filed Under: Poetic License
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Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Take yourself home early tonight, Libra. Light a candle for each bauble in your jewelry box heart — diamonds to costume — and drink hot cocoa amid the conflagration. Happy birthday, again. Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Sally Draper's one friend in the world is Glen, a football-playing misfit and fellow child of divorce. He listens to her talk about her dreams. Let's pretend Betty isn't about to separate them! Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): You would travel all the way across town to root for a friend, even if she's just singing karaoke. Pick your favorite song and join her. Bonus points if it's "Don't Stop Believin." Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): The other day my wife and I waited in line for four hours to see The Roots and President Obama at the "Moving America Forward" rally. Both have themes of change and ask, "Why do haters separate us like we Siamese?" Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): From Mary Oliver: "Whoever you are, no matter how lonely/ the world offers itself to your imagination/ calls to you like wild geese, harsh and exciting/ over and over announcing your place/ in the family of things." Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): In The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, Rose, the main character, can taste the emotions of the people who've prepared the food she eats. She is usually 1. Very hungry. 2. Eating very processed foods for their factory anonymity. and 3. Envying her friend Eliza, whose sandwiches taste like happiness. Aries (March 21-April 18): Volunteer to work in the upcoming election. It may not work, but it's more fun than helplessness. Taurus (April 19-May 18): When I first moved to Philadelphia, I worked with children from Fulton Elementary School. When the president spoke at that same school the other day, we ended up behind my favorite Fulton student. Out of a crowd of 18,000! It felt like a nod from the universe. Gemini (May 19-June 21): Take an extra walk today. The air smells like acorns and ozone. The fall flowers are bejeweling the place — blue salvia, fuchsia and purple aster, sunflower and dried hydrangea. Take a break from your headphones and listen to birds. Cancer (June 22-July 23): A pal of mine included special pre-party suggestions in her party invite, to keep people from being too early and awkward. Somebody's gotta arrive first, though, and those are your best friends. Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Enjoy this quote from Le Petit Prince: "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world ..." Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): I had a dream that you were sitting around a table talking on the subject of "belonging." Everyone in the group was saying things like "I don't know how to make friends." "I don't know how to make connections." and "I feel kind of extra." You all bonded on having the exact same fears, then went out for drinks.
Filed Under: Poetic License
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Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Oh, darling. You need a good, bossy wife, someone to keep the fridge full of nutrients, let you spend what you need to, make you sleep regularly, to check if you're taking actual lunch breaks at work, which should preferably be spent reading. Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Parents whose children have achieved YouTube fame should leave well enough alone. I don't need to see "Kittens Inspired By Kittens Girl Explains World War II" or "Deleted Scenes from Jessica's Affirmation." Let the kids go outside, already. Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Make yourself a mix called "Positive Expressions of Negative Emotions." You may want to include "I Don't Love Anyone" by Belle and Sebastian, which includes: "I met a man today/And he told me something pretty strange/There's always somebody saying something/He said, 'The world was as soft as lace.'" Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): At the end of this week's Mad Men, Dr. Faye has sold herself out for the good of Don's company. She lays her head on his shoulder and "Welcome to my World" plays over the credits. Influence is real. Avoid snuggling up to handsome shapeshifters. Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): I'm bothered by the Lifetime-ization of this season's Project Runway — you can hardly tell its promos from Reviving Ophelia's. Let's leave aside the broken heroines and get back to the sewing, please. Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Rumi wrote: "Each has to enter the nest made by the other imperfect bird." Collect your twigs and ribbon, your delicate detritus, your molted feathers. Use your little mess to decorate someone's heart. Aries (March 21-April 18): It's GBLT History Month! Celebrate by visiting "It Gets Better," Dan Savage's YouTube channel where LGBT grown-ups post videos encouraging our youth to hang in there. The wife and I are gonna make a video for it, just as soon as we clean the house. Taurus (April 19-May 18): In the immortal words of Tracy Jordan: "I lost my mood ring and I don't know how I feel about it." Gemini (May 19-June 21): I went and visited my childhood home last week. The latest owners had fixed it up so nice and cheerful. It was freshly painted and expanded, and they added more trees, a pond, and a carriage house — fancy! Seeing it that way made my soul feel refurbished. Cancer (June 22-July 23): See how many versions of "I Can't Stand the Rain" you can find. I think you'll discover that not only are you super fly, but you are, in fact, super duper fly. Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): The radio edit of Cee Lo Green's "Fuck You" sounds really boring. While redubbers-of-'80s-movies-for-TV may disagree, "Forget" is not a synonym for "Fuck." Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): I'm having trouble thinking up any slogans to put on a placard for my trip down to Jon Stewart's Rally to Restore Sanity — I think maybe that's because I am immoderate. Oh well, emotional lefties change the world all the time for the better.
Filed Under: Poetic License
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Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Happy Birthday Month, Libra! Make 100 wishes, fill them out on laminated cards, and read them like the Tarot to strangers. Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Will Sally Draper actually get to go see the Beatles at Shea Stadium like her father promised, or will her ticket go to Don's pretty new secretary? It's really the only plot point that matters. Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Stand up to the sitcom bullies of your life, get back your lunch money, your heart, your publication credits; hold them like treasure in your fists, like weight. Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): Martin Seligman, founder of Positive Psychology, began his path to positivity by discovering that tortured dogs often do not take the chance to leap over a partition to freedom. This is called learned helplessness. Some of the dogs did leap, though. That's you. Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Katy Perry said that being on Sesame Street was the best thing that ever happened to her in her life. Watch her chase Elmo around in the banned-from-Sesame-Street video. Meditate on opposites. Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Experiment with space like this: Leave a crowded room full of noise and go walk around the block with someone you trust. See what you find. When you get back, the noise won't matter. Aries (March 21-April 18): In the debut issue of Apiary (a journal of Philadelphia poets), Laura Spagnoli wrote a gorgeous and funny poem about the PECO building, which includes the following: "We are 40 foot LED words/ digital dolls, rainbow colorized/ We are local time and temperature." Taurus (April 19-May 18): They used to only make tinsel for Christmas, but now there's everything: heart tinsel, bat tinsel, Easter egg tinsel, etc. Build yourself a fortress of it. Gemini (May 19-June 21): The world is your apple orchard. there's no need to pay for the hayride, we can walk to the trees. Fill up your bushels and carry them, have sweetness till January. Cancer (June 22-July 23): A few years ago I was baby-sitting my nephew Kieran. Even though it was a freezing April morning at the edge of Lake Ontario, we went to the playground. His little nose got very runny and I didn't have a tissue, so I pulled my sweatshirt sleeve over my hand and told him to blow, then folded over the operative cuff. I wish I were always that loving. Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): In Jonathan Franzen's book Freedom, there's only one character who is not a jerk. She loves unconditionally and un-martyr-like. SPOILER ALERT: She gets a songbird preserve named after her. That's you. Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): You were last seen lighting a match — was it to burn bridges or sit vigils? Either way, keep walking.Who the Hell would name a kid "Kieran"? Talk about "learned helplessness".
Cripes, more internet jerks, safe under the cover of anonymity. Jane, Stand up to the comment bullies of your life, get back your snotty sleeve of love, your LEDs, your leaping dogs; hold them like treasure in your fists, like tinsel. Love, Gemini Bushels
@ Anonymous--My SISTER named her kid Kieran, and she is about the least helpless human in the universe! @ silverlining, I heart you. Are we already friends?
Thanks. :) Kieran's pretty un-helpless, too - lol! I am kind of curious about what our friend Rodney finds so offensive about the name. I love this one - the world IS my apple orchard! <3
Maybe Rodney hates the Irish!
Filed Under: Poetic License
Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
A Mini Tarot Reading (Note: If you enjoy made-up advice and pop-culture mysticism, come visit me at the Mount Airy Village Fair this Sunday, Sept.26! You can get a totally made-up Tarot reading, make September valentines and peruse my brand-new book of love poems, Adventures of A Lazy Polyamorist. XOXOXOX—Jane) Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Force: A fancy lady is grasping the lion's jaw. The lion looks kind of abashed. You are wearing infinity as a hat — grasp the application process, your bank balance, your forgotten novel, any untamable thing. Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): The Sun: Your egg has hatched, your community garden is exploding with tomatoes and your tweets are retweeted to rival Rob Cordry's. Like Lady Gaga bringing her asked-and-told soldiers onto the red carpet and into the news cycle, use your weird voice for good. Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Ten of Wands: If you're feeling overwhelmed, it might be a good time to remember that gold is heavy. Delegate some of your riches; pass it on like coins along the road. Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): The Lovers: Your interloper might not be an arrow-wielding centaur, but nonetheless you need some element of hybridizing, some alchemy, even if it only means switching to half-decaf, making art in mixed media, or being a little two-faced. Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Five of Cups: Something you put a lot of stock in is starting to lose some of its meaning — that very well COULD be you in the spotlight, losing your religion. Be lost. Be a little at sea and see what floats by next. Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Wheel of Fortune: I married a woman who is excellent at making paper boats. I would advise you to do the same. It doesn't matter if you lose your crown or ascend to the seagulls; these temporary vessels keep you strangely grounded. Aries (March 21-April 18): The Moon: Once, when I was 20 or so, I stayed up all night painting The Moon card for Joe Prisco, a boyfriend of questionable value. He dumped me that very weekend, but a least I had the painting. Taurus (April 19-May 18): Five of Coins: In the words of LCD Soundsystem, "Drunk girls know that love is an astronaut. It comes back but it's never the same." Try again anyway. Gemini (May 19-June 21): Nine of Wands: Choose nine things you can't do anything about this week. Don't do anything about them. Cancer (June 22-July 23): Queen of Cups: According to heartthrob folk singer Peter Mulvey, "The trouble with shoes is they come untied. You might take a fall down the stairs. Then a poet might come along and say 'Isn't that just like life?' The trouble with poets is they see poetry everywhere." Be like that. Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): The Magician: Intuition isn't just blindly letting your feelings make your decisions. It's using the information already stored in your brain. Blink like Malcolm Gladwell, Leo, and trust your decisions. Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): Four of Cups: Gloria Steinem said, "Women have a terminal case of gratitude." I recently switched my Gratitude Journal to a Happiness List. I felt like being so grateful made me disappear and get taken for granted. Dial back the thank you notes, but still notice what you're given.
Filed Under: Critical Mass | Poetic License
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Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
A Little Surly in Places Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): My last trip to the ocean this summer was all about getting pummeled by waves, falling into the surf over and over, struggling to the left or right as the lifeguard whistled us to safety. It was sandy for my bathing suit and cleanse-y for my soul. Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Channel your inner Steven Slater, who over the summer became a national hero when he quit his flight attendant job in a flourish of swears and beer. No need to quit, but do take a break from the corporate yolk of forced cheerfulness, before you get trapped in the air with it. Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): A fake Buddhist guest speaker at church a few weeks ago suggested that the Gulf oil spill was a result of bad karma that came from us not trying hard enough to stop the war. Didn't she hear the dolphins picketing, the turtles quietly lighting themselves on fire? People are as careless with the word "karma" as they are with the word "literally." Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Can we dispatch a fleet of educators just to talk lovingly and instructively to children on the bus? Instead of telling them to shut up? That would be a good job for you. Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): Like a parent who finds the house too quiet now that his or her brood has gone back to school, take time to fold the laundry in silence. Read a book. Read seven. Watch inappropriate things on the television. Swear yourself silly. Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Things to do before you trade in your old phone: mourn your grandfather's last number. Forward your talisman-texts to someone you trust. Appreciate the size of the buttons. Put your photos someplace safe. Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Monday night I was walking in Love Park with my wife when a presidential motorcade happened by. The next morning I saw the Secret Service metal-detecting kids on their way into school. It was like someone was noticing us. (But he never texts anymore. ... ) Aries (March 21-April 18): The absolute value of a number is its distance from zero on the number line. The absolute value of -7 is 7. The absolute value of work is its closeness to sincerity. I don't know how to graph that. Taurus (April 19-May 18): You get Mad Men this week! Don Draper realized that he may not be able to handle the new generation of women because they tend to speak more freely. At the same time, he realized they were pretty willing to give blow jobs. I guess the moral here is, let people speak. Gemini (May 19-June 21): Last week on Project Runway, Mondo was dismayed to find himself paired with Michael C. until they actually started the project and he discovered that his partner was much more competent than groupthink dictated. Weren't they ADORABLE snuggling at the end? Cancer (June 22-July 23): This week, think about forbidden things. Tack up pictures of lost loves on your bulletin board. Go ahead and hate on some virtuous people. Covet covet covet! Think some beloved bands are overrated. The world probably won't end. Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): I am considering graduating myself from therapy for this reason: The lady suggested that I interrupt my wife's job-hunting to talk about how unhappy her current job makes us. PREVIOUSLY >> POETIC LICENSE: Horoscopes, Sept. 10-16
Filed Under: Poetic License
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Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
The Last Day of Summer Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): I'm writing this from a bench in the Wissahickon. In front of me, a family is applauding. Behind me, a child is playing "Yellow Submarine" on the violin. Congratulate yourself on a summer well spent. Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): (SPOILER ALERT!) Don Draper: "Somebody very important to me died." Peggy: "Who?" Don: "The only person in the world who really knew me." Peggy: "That's not true." Don's at his best when he's with his gal pals, and so are you. Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): Learn to identify birdsongs so that you can think of them as portents. The purple finch means, "All is well." The oriole means, "Are you KIDDING me with how beautiful this is?" The blue jay means, "You're waking up at home." Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): Once you start birdwatching, you'll realize how little detail you were seeing before. You'll realize that what you thought were sparrows were actually chickadees, house finches, winter goldfinches, juncos and sparrows. Start seeing the whole spectrum of birds. Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): A Capricorn pal asked me to write cooler predictions for her, but think of it as a Rorschach test — I could press a butterfly into the ink between the folded pages, but you could see absolutely anything. Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): This month's Glamour features an article called "How to Get Over the Guy You Can't Get Over." It is illustrated by a picture of a girl with a Polaroid in her polka dot undies. The advice goes from "Go Ahead and Wallow," to "Move the Eff on Already." To avoid whatever you need to get over, you won't have to miss many parties. Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Big lug Lane on Big Brother had this to say when housemate Britney won $10,000: "Damn it, she does not need 10 Gs. She's gonna use that for lipstick and leggings." Help yourself to as many alliterative luxuries as you can this week. Aries (March 21-April 18): In Carolyn Parkhurst's novel The Nobodies Album, the protagonist is a novelist in the process of rewriting the endings of all her books to try and fix her life. You don't need rewritings, though, just sequels. Taurus (April 19-May 18): Make a list of your summer accomplishments. Include tomatoes grown, currents fought, TV series watched in one sitting. Light the list on fire for one more set of S'mores. Gemini (May 19-June 21): Go ahead and pray for the things you want. Your deity of choice will certainly accept your crumpled list. Don't ask me how I know this. Cancer (June 22-July 23): Anne Lamott said, "Write like your parents are dead." But that is too grisly for me. How about, "Write like your in-laws aren't on your Facebook." (Confidential to Lawsons: LOVE YOU!) Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): I have been meaning to learn the names of butterflies, but I've been putting it off. So I Googled "Butterfly identification" and saved some directories to the desktop. 1. I feel a little richer that way. 2. I think I saw a Mourning Cloak. PREVIOUSLY >> POETIC LICENSE: Horoscopes, Sept. 3-9
Filed Under: Poetic License
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Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
Who Watches Giles? Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): Write out your 10 birthday wishes in sparkle-icing on a sheet cake. Learn to make frosting roses — it's about time. Count your hopes in sugar petals. Avoid red food coloring. It's bitter. Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): By way of alleviating stress, call up 10 people you love and say nice things about them. Be emphatic. Your aches and pains will decrease. Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): The motto of Harry's Occult Shop over on South Street is "We aim to help." You get the feeling that by "we" they don't mean "We the guys behind the apothocary counter," but more like "We and all the unseen forces of the universe." Ask for that kind of help. Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): This week, be like Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Be a Watcher to every wild force for goodness, every supernaturally strong slangy archetype. Don't wish you were somewhere else. Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): You are a calendar of how to make strawberry shortcake. On Monday, decide biscuits or sweet sponge cake. Tuesday, slice the strawberries, etc. Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): How to have a lovely Baroque-pop catharsis: 1. Set up Google Chrome as your browser. 2. Close all other windows. 3. Go to thewildernessdowntown.com. 4. Type in your first address. 5. Search. Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): It might be difficult for Mad Men to make rock bottom look stylish. Luckily, you have no such worries. You are as fresh and bright as a new hat. Aries (March 21-April 18): This week, a guru of mine very quickly became an un-guru when she made fun of a man who kept his dog on a very long leash. This is at least a failure of imagination. Taurus (April 19-May 18): I forget the name of the artist who installed a tree branch over the gate at Dia:Beacon as a piece of art. Turning the branch upside-down fooled it into thinking it was alive and blooming one last time. Gemini (May 19-June 21): Something I learned while napping to Radiolab: Until very recently, like the 1970s, zoos were nothing but wire cages and concrete. Be like whoever it was who came up with naturalistic animal habitats — still a zoo, but still. Cancer (June 22-July 23): In her poem "Other Prohibited Items," Martha Greenfield lists items confiscated at airport security, including a sentimental wrench, rare rosewater, breast milk still warm. What should you travel with? What should you risk? Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Some ponderings about Gretchen from Project Runway: 1. Do you think she knows she'll be edited this way? 2. She's just saying out loud what our Monkey Mind is always yammering about. 3. How does one go on after having been yelled at by Tim Gunn? PREVIOUSLY >> POETIC LICENSE: Horoscopes, Aug. 28-Sept. 2
Filed Under: Poetic License
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Critical Mass welcomes devoted poet/avid concert-goer/nerd-grrrl extraordinaire Jane Cassady to the fold; her weekly horoscopes will run in this space every Friday morning.
"Art is the center of the real world. Philadelphia is the center of the art world." --Various mosaics Virgo (Aug. 24-Sept. 23): Happy birthday month, fellow Virgos, and thanks for being good sports about however I decide to self-soothe on any given week. Anyway! Number of years I've been going to clubs: 20! Amount that house music has changed: 0. Appreciate your patterns, your looped samples, the comfort of your constant beats. Libra (Sept. 24-Oct. 21): Today my therapist gave me a note card that says this: "Don't fight with yourself. Let yourself be wrong and sometimes stupid." She knew it was the right advice when I started laughing my ass off. Scorpio (Oct. 22-Nov. 22): This is what the fortune cookie that came with my iced coffee says: "You will make many changes before settling satisfactorily." It makes me a little antsy, but it might work for you. Sagittarius (Nov. 23-Dec. 22): There's a pop song stuck in my head. I just Googled it, it's by La Roux. It goes "This time baby/I'll be/bulletproof." That is a silly but very appealing idea. Indulge it! Capricorn (Dec. 23-Jan. 20): This month I've resolved to be less Allison and more Peggy. In case you don't watch Mad Men, allow me to translate: Let's be less the brokenhearted secretary and more the arty copywriter in the midst of a consciousness-awakening. Aquarius (Jan. 21-Feb. 19): Have you ever been to The Blue Grotto in Philadelphia? Conceptual artist Randy Dalton wanted to give Philadelphia a blue ribbon for its arts contributions, so he made these beautiful environments of found objects bathed in varied blue lights. Give yourself a prize like that. Light up the color of swimming pools. Send the message to landing planes. Pisces (Feb. 20-March 20): Draw a map of your childhood home. Be very specific — don't forget the lilac bush, the sauce-stained sink, the rough wallpaper. Open the door and start redecorating, or at least wash the dishes. Aries (March 21-April 18): The other day my wife and I were walking to the store when a drunk man started hollering at us, yelling comments about our asses and such. Usually I'd just scowl and walk away, but this time, it was very satisfying to swear back at him. Taurus (April 19-May 18): According to The United States of Tara, we sometimes package our vulnerable parts and jettison them. Find and open all of these pretty little pathos-packages. Save the ribbons. Gemini (May 19-June 21): In the words of Lucille Clifton, for my brother who's leaving college soon: "May you/ Open your eyes to water/ Water waving forever/ And may you in your innocence/ Sail through this to that." Cancer (June 22-July 23): I generally take advice from the poetry quotes in the church bulletin: "One day the sun admitted, I am just a shadow. I wish I could show you The Infinite Incandescence that has cast my brilliant image! I wish I could show you, When you are lonely or in darkness, The Astonishing Light Of your own Being!" --Hafiz Leo (July 24-Aug. 23): Sometimes you can decide that you are quite edified enough, thank you very much, and that all you want to do after all these weeks of making beautiful things is to go home and see how things turn out with the Diamond Power of Veto on Big Brother. Your soul wants junk. PREVIOUSLY >> POETIC LICENSE: Horoscopes, Aug. 20-27
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