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una dosis de humildad,

para todos.

se acabó la insostenible

fantasía.

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los dos últimos eclipses

del eje Virgo – Piscis ocurren con los Nodos en el eje Leo – Acuario

y en cuadratura, junto al Sol y la Luna, con Urano en Géminis.

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Joni Mitchell tiene sus nodos en el eje Leo-Acuario, su Luna Pisciana en oposición a una Venus virginiana y, ambas, en cuadratura con Saturno y Marte en Géminis [y, btw, tiene Urano a dos grados de desde donde se va a encontrar con los eclipses… ¡HÁ!]. Como, no solo buena sino, hermosa cantautora del pasado siglo: tuvo que unir su eje Virgo-Piscis, mediante sus mediadores geminianos y en muchísimas ocasiones, para conseguir crear tan bellísimas canciones; y casi que literalmente, en esta: both sides now, en la que trata el mismísimo tema del eclipse; el mismísimo que tratamos en este post.

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La interpretación de lo emocional y lo físico; del lenguaje del cuerpo y del alma, no es tarea fácil para la joven mente geminiana. Pero la historia cambia, cuando Urano pisa su terreno: cualquier diccionario personal -previamente redactado- puede aumentar su nivel, por apertura de consciencia ante aquello que, antes, no le era visible: nuevas palabras y más elevadas trae la vida;

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La verdad incomoda cualquier cuento encastillado sobre nube blanca y pura porque lo rompe en dos, si no en añicos, cual corazón [figuradamente hablando; por supuesto], cuando la mente desvela la inconsistencia de esa bola gigante de vapor: ya no puede, pues, sostener tal falacia inventada en pro de una necesidad imperante de creer, creer, creer… así que cae, cae, cae hasta tocar tierra. Estamparse, de hecho, contra ella; o, llamémosle: realidad.

Estos dos eclipses nos traen la famosa caída de ficha: Urano abrirá grieta en todo cascarón. Si no se consigue; si uno se resiste a ver la realidad que es fantasía, ahora, no le quedará más que soportar la realidad hecha fantasía, en febrero.

No me generalicen: aquí, cada cual con sus ollas mentales; sus locuras de castillo que, seamos justos, tienen su mérito por originales [apuesto lo que quieran a que es así] y podríamos crear competi cual Goncourt para entregar premios sobre hermosas novelas jamás firmadas -por vergüenza. Esa también es una realidad pero, ahora, la que nos interesa es otra que aún no vemos; sea probable, ello, no por falta de capacidad sino de coraje.

[Casi] todos hemos construido un poquito de vida en base a esas ideas; a esas enormes casas medievales que alzamos, con lo que: POR SUPUESTO QUE DUELE darse cuenta de la verdad, cuando ya no solo es una mera idea porque construimos muchísimo más, en base a ella. Habremos alzado un discurso que repetimos y repetimos y repetimos en cada comida familiar, evento social, cena con amigos, filosofadas con extraños… puede que hayamos alzado una filosofía de vida entera, y alrededor de la que hayamos construido un trabajo; una empresa; una relación -o tropecientas; un proyecto cualquiera… y, ahora, ¡¿hay que demolerlo TODO?!

Virgo dice NO; no lo destruya por completo: límpielo; púlalo; reorganícelo; mejórelo; optimícelo; conviértalo en aquello que debió ser, desde un principio, pero que no pudo alcanzar a ser, por confusión.

Haga el trabajo que no hizo en aquel entonces, esta vez: observe de cerca, y al detalle, cuál es la realidad -a través de los resultados, que no de las asunciones.

El ego leonino debe ser erradicado por inconsistencia: demos pasos hacia el futuro acuariano, mis bellezas, y no cabrá -en el equipo- quien no pula sus destrezas.

Pero bien; Marte está ubicado en zona cangrejo, así que tenemos a la valentía del lado de el niño vulnerable ante la vida; algo parecido al AC en Cáncer de Joni, porque eso es justo lo que hacía ese ser: aquello de colocarse ante la mirada de ese montón de gente, cual Luna en Piscis donde el Medio Cielo [traducción: tremendamente vulnerable]; contar sus intimidades escorpianas encima de un escenario; dentro de su Casa V, conjunta a su Mercurio: su vibrante voz.

Y, sí, Joni también tiene Júpiter en Leo: ella, representación Majestica de este momento crucial; una buena acompañante, para aceptar e integrar humildemente: pero, eh, mirad todo lo que he vivido; todo lo que experimenté y, aún así, considero que ‘I really don’t know life… at all‘,

El mítico solo sé que no sé nada Socrateño.

Hay cosas que están más allá de nuestro control; escapan, a él; no alcanzan, nuestras manos.

Hay que cortar con complejos de salvador; que, sí, [casi] todos tenemos -con más o menos intensidad.

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El próximo septiembre, diciembre [2026] y febrero [2027] experimentaremos la reactivación del grado pisciano eclipsado, siendo -febrero- el mes de eclipses y teniendo, además, ese último del eje Virgo-Piscis el día 21 y ocurriendo, este, a 2 grados de donde ocurrió el de agosto.

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nuance de color personal

A Z U L,

así me he estado sintiendo, durante esta temporada de eclipses.

azul. triste. prussian blue y colgada de no sé exactamente donde,

para ser honesta.

La luna llena eclipsada, en Piscis, cayó sobre mi luna menguante, en Piscis, y en su propia casa -la doce, así que todo ese

suelta

suelta

suelta

cayó, cual saco de patatas, encima de mi ser.

No es que los astrólogos alcancemos a experimentar los eventos astrológicos como Bud-¡dah! y habiendo trascendido la realidad, pero sí es que pocos hablamos de ello: damos nuestros tips; nuestra guía; nuestras órdenes de toma de dirección y nos desvanecemos entre niebla.

Mi sensación es que podemos aparecernos como si Diosessabelotodo fuéramos pero solo compartimos nuestro conocimiento, quizá incluso experiencia con resultados, a través de palabras; juraría que no me equivoco si hablo en nombre de mis compañeros al decir que, sinceramente, entomamos la energía celestial como todo ser humano mortal: humildemente, sosteniéndonos; cada uno con sus mejores herramientas encontradas -para ello. En mi caso: el arte siempre fue una de ellas.

Debo admitir que algo de ‘demostrar, con pruebas, que mis intenciones son honestas‘ hay, en mostrar uno de mis dibujos: al fin y al cabo, en la presentación de esta página web hay una de|clara|ción de intenciones, entre las cuales se encuentra esa de humanizar cuánto más posible una pantalla, a través de utensilios mundanos -que no tecnológicos: menos IA, más hecho a mano.

Con lo que: ahí me fuí, el día del eclipse; ahí, donde las artes desbloquean cualquier resistencia que convierta mis entrañas en campo de batalla. Junto a Joni -y un poco de Role Model.

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Pero hay algo que sí tenemos bien claro, los de nuestro campo: todo es un proceso.

Dos años, hace, desde que se fue mi madre; tres meses, ahora, desde que abandoné mi hogar. Crucé el Atlántico. Hay que dejar salir;

soltar

soltar

soltar

aquello que pesa en la memoria y echar, aunque sea de menos. Hay penas que no somos conscientes de cargar y que hunden; ahogan. Lastres que dificultan avanzar.

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June 19th, 2026 - May 5th, 2034

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I decided to write kind of an ode to Femme Aesthetics and their abundance; to Pachamama-esque-curves; to woman's muscular strength, though highlighting its polar opposite: almost daunting 'cause of the incessant imposition to which that submits us -with even a greater force each time Chiron enters Taurus-.

That damned cult to the frailty of the svelte body;

the adoration of the delicacy performed by a skeletal figure

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: sickness infesting our temple

¡There she is! Oh! That admired, acclaimed and -even- envied runwaymodel about to shatter into pieces before her thousands, if not millions, of fans who crazily long for looking just like her: and, thereby, Chanel, Dior, Versace, Hermes and all those magic words that foretell ABUNDANCE AND POWER, with regard to women, decide using a reduced pattern in order to design their garments, so there's just one way their clothes feel good before the mirror: to fade away; to shrink; to diminish oneself until getting the same size. And abundance and power are once again written in lowercase... and in small print.

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Chiron enters Taurus on June 19 while its ruler, Venus, is transiting the sign of Leo; the illness will be represented by Leonine figures, such as celebrities.

And, yes, that's just what's happening in Hollywood: disease is becoming trendy. It's a must, being aesthetically from underthebridge and let's steal some wallets 'cause there's no food to eat; slimness politics are back to the red carpet like a plague upon the field and it bears the name of a drug, as a sponsor: OZEMPIC. What makes it so special? It reduces hunger and, as a result, the body's dimension.

It's all about not letting anything get to the mouth entry, and there cannot be no any representation more taureanally Chironian—and b*atchy. To this, we add Pluto exerting pressure from Aquarius in a square aspect -which translates to the pharmaceutical lobby fueling disease rather than helping to cure it.

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Just as an individual follows cyclical patterns that require healing through some form of therapy, humanity repeatedly stumbles over the same small stones along the path: whenever Chiron returns to a sign, old wounds resurface before us, offering—once again—the opportunity to be healed.

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The last time Chiron passed through the sign of Taurus was from 1976 to 1984 and we did eat something similar.

In 1977, Vogue launched a Body and Beauty Book, that is still talked about nowadays, in which they proposed a Crash Diet that was based on coffee, wine and -a good pair of- eggs in order to lose a minimum of two kilos in three days.

And the thing is, the seventies aesthetic also fulfilled that slender and elongated pattern that Chiron in Taurus always seems to bring us.

That edition was published on a November 3rd, while Chiron was approaching the famous magazine's North Node (also located in said zodiac sign) and, at the same time, formed a trine (meaning a harmonious or flow-facilitating aspect) to its Chiron in Virgo (yes, I mean the one in its Natal Chart; the magazine's own chart; which it possesses because it was born, like you and me, but in December of 1892)-: thereby granting it sort of permission to overstep with toxic or unhealthy remedies related to food and the body -especially the female one.

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Another consequence of this new sickly wave is the death of the Kardashian Queendom, along with their artificial implants (which of course, under the new aesthetic, they've had removed and, to be fair, neither was that the healthy alternative): just as in the late 19th century, when Taurus was also trodden by Chiron: with the tall and thin silhouette gifted by the cuirass corset, the volume that, until then, had been imposed by the bustle (an unreal butt bulge made with a pillow placed over the rear) so there was a leap from the horse-woman style to the mermaid-womanstyle: much more elegant and much less squatter (of the space that didn't belong to her? Ugh... are you also feeling the taurian laziness spreading through your body?).

Following the roaring twenties, and with Coco Chanel definitively freeing us from the corset, Chiron returned to the Taurus land one year prior to the -equally roaring- crash of ’29, as '30s fashion began to pave the way toward the femenine and exquisitely silent '40s and '50s: once again, we stretched out and covered ourselves; scaling back the space we had previously occupied. Them, prim and proper.

–But, Mar, what does the crash have to do with the femme aesthetic?

–For within the drawer of Taurian files, we hold various subjects, including both the body and money.

–WTF?

–Yes, well; you see: Taurus has that Pachamama-esque vibe of abundance and flowers and green grass and delicacies of all colors and flavors that we would find in the famous paradise of Adam and Eve, it's just that -these days- there is a filter called money to get all that. But anyway, going back to… ahem, ahem:

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I wonder if some sort of mental clash, however unconscious, occurs in our body when both polarities merge in a single being -incoherently so; to say nothing of within the same collective: celebrities, that crowd that holds our attention perennially. What kind of subliminal message are we taking in? If you wish to possess, must you get sick?

Perhaps a direct economic constraint regarding the size of women: it is no secret that extreme thinness is a symbol of scarcity, no matter how much we add a Hermès handbag (let's be real, Jane Birkin was never a symbol of bodily abundance, huh?) hanging from the forearm.

Everything primitive speaks far louder to the subconscious, though perhaps not clearly enough to make it conscious all at once: if we women accept the trend of extreme thinness, are we telling the rest of the collective that abundance is over? That it's time for seven years of lean cows?

At the end of the day: people's purchasing, or consumption, power as a sign of success -in abundance- is a phenomenon that landed in our system along with capitalism: the more one has, the richer, more abundant and more prosperous they are.

And, because I think it’s just another marvelous example and I feel like sharing it, period...

: sweeney in a white burqa and Jean

She looked like a 21st-century Norma Jean, but faced too much competition to capture the same spotlight as Monroe: even so, she had managed to get a massive crowd of men fighting to obtain a bar of soap kneaded with bath water in which that stunning bottleblonde had been -theoretically- basking in before, just as she came into the world: without a diaper.

By comparison, one might say her provocative campaign for American Eagle fell short.

Anyway... the image of that young actress covered up like wearing a burqa in white and jean -a raíz de la imposición del estilo Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy all over the world (another taurus-inspired trend, by the way, because this understated, quiet simplicity, crafted from long-lasting materials like cotton, silk and cashmere belongs to the realm of the bull, ladies and gentlemen)-, awoke a question in my mind: is this girl falling ill, or is she healing?

We'll see.

And the truth is, Chiron is no longer just anyone: years ago we gave it notoriety (the Leo sign), and now we're much more aware of where it bothers us; moreover, this transit brings pain to our most physical beauty; to our Mother Earth; to abundance; it may even affect our wallets. It's going to hurt, like when you're little and your mother pours hydrogen peroxide on your wound and'ouch! It hurts!!' 'cause healthy.

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THE MYTH OF CHIRON

Poisoned by an arrow shot into his immortal heart, Chiron emerged WOUNDED from the war.

He set out to find a blend of wild plants that would help him heal, and over the years, he ended up amassing countless varieties of them inside a cave in the middle of the forest.

Resigned to the fact that none of them could cure him, he began receiving wounded soldiers in his own home—surely one remedy or another would work for each suffering lad! And so, the eternally wounded man became a renowned healer.

Centuries later—weary of healing only the afflictions of others while his own went untended—he abdicated his throne and retreated to the desert, where he wandered for miles upon millions until he crossed paths with Prometheus.

-Why are you nailed to a cross here in the middle of nowhere?

-I was punished by the Gods, because of burglary...

-In what home did you break into, madhatter?

-Into the knowledge one, and I downloaded it.

-You lost your way.

-Look at your well-being: how's that wound? Looks like refusing to heal.

-I was poisoned when the war and been centuries suffering.

-Well, welcome to my world: every day a raven eats my liver, yet I never succumb; at nightfall it regenerates, and once again back to that torturous, infinite wait...

[Anyway, here they both empathize and manage to understand each other, and they get emotional, and that feeling of brotherhood arises, and Chiron, being so good, decides to change the situation because Prometheus still has a long life ahead of him—he’s in great health]

When Chiron surrendered—when he stopped fighting [having achieved the status of a God-level Shaman centuries prior, meaning his purpose was more than fulfilled, folks]—and accepted his fate, he died the first time the raven ate his liver.

And so it was that his wound was healed and the gods welcomed him into their magnificent abode.

THE END

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After emerging from the Ariana war—and after the Uranian revolution drove us to artificialize the natural world (excessive physical alterations at absurd ages, the hyper-use of fictitious money, and the forgetting of what truly holds value—remember gold?)—it is time to heal the various colossal messes left behind.

But everything will be fine, pajarito colibrí: no illness surfaces if it has been overcome, so the predilection for extreme thinness remained buried beneath the mantle of collective psychological trauma—and it must be exposed, remembered, and seen clearly so that it can be treated.

In 2026, we get a small three-month tasting for the palate; the full bottle arrives in 2027, and it is not small.

-okay, sorry; it wasn't a bottle—it was a large jug!

Specifically, on April 14th—less than a week before we enter Taurus Season of the year, Chiron will definitively enter the sign, and we will experience doses of both illness and cure until 2034.

In the meantime—and to help you get into the mood—I leave you with the vibe of the archetype that, to my mind, best represents this astral position:

THE SHAMAN

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🫶🏻

heal, my sweet girl, with the most beautiful kind of love

and always remember that YOU are the medicine

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