Archive for July, 2009

Zoo and Sniffles

Posted in Astrology, Music with tags , , , , , , , , on July 19, 2009 by sudhirastropoetica


It’s sunday night. Was it really only Friday night that Lion Island played the Zoo? How amazing it is to be on a stage where i’ve seen people perform that I am seriously gobsmacked by. I am remembering Don Walker – my favourite Australian songwriter by a country mile. Who else writes stories like that? His solo stuff is peerless. Really it was so much fun to play. The sound was amazing. Nine of us, making one hell of a huge racket for a bunch of fiddlers and pluckers and thumpers and warblers. The crowd loved it – and I got a cold. The first tragedy of my just slightly post mid-life rock and roll lifestyle. Could be worse. Being sick is an opportunity to lie in bed and read. And talk into a tape recorder – doing an astrology reading. For far away people I do such things. It’s a daunting task. No-one there to interact with. Just a voice echoed by an empty room reverberating with whatever I do or don’t understand about the stars. Each time I tell the story of a Greek myth or rattle on about the psychology of essence, I am talking to myself. Engraving the message a little deeper into the copper plate of my soul. I’m editing some old songs as I write this. To what end I don’t know. Songs, gifts of the gods and the sweat glands. How come they become such treasured possessions? Like holding on to reflections on the surface of a lake. The creative process demands total emotional engagement. The message of Cancer, recurring again and again as the hypothetical sun weaves it’s way through the stars of the crab. The real sun is of course travelling through Gemini – but hey we won’t go there right now. Unless of course you want to…..


Posted in Astrology, Music with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 15, 2009 by sudhirastropoetica


It’s been a week for dancing with the demons of resistance. The moment it comes to writing – with the exception of those things that I have a paid deadline for (strangely) – or talking to my tape recorder about the stars, the little buggers have been there in all their glory. Resistance, digging it’s heels in with all the heavy hoofedness of a mighty Brahman bull. Or is it a particularly feisty crab who just simply doesn’t want to come out of his home under the rocks? That said it’s been an eventful few days. The band is getting ready for a gig at The Zoo, here in Brisbane, on Friday night. That’s a big one for us. A real venue. A real audience. The bats in the brain belfries definitely start to flap around in the face of facing the general public en masse. We’ll be splendid. I came across a cheap Grail Tarot deck on Saturday and snaffled it up. I have never really gotten my head around the Knights Templar before – or that the Gnostic Christian tradition was so tied up with the Grail myseries. I do remember staring over the Chalice well in Glastonbury years ago wondering if Joseph of Arimathea really did hide it in there. I remember a story that there’s some place thereabouts, that were you to spend a night there, you would come out mad or a poet. Tempting. Glastonbury really is an extraordinary part of the planet. The signs of the Zodiac are written into the hedges and creeks and fencelines so that they can be seen from the Tor near the centre of town. Are the twelve sign of the Zodiac the knights of the round table? Is Glastonbury Avalon? One certainly wonders when one sucks up that crisp clean magical air. Certainly takes your sense of wonder up a notch – which may well have been the secret intention.

All Music No Stars

Posted in Astrology, Music with tags , , , , , , , on July 9, 2009 by sudhirastropoetica


I seem to be besotted with good alt-country music. I’ve got Lyle Lovett singing to me right now. Singing a collection of his favourite Texan songwriter’s songs. They carry something of the land in them. There’s definitely no dead dogs and not too many slamming doors as girlfriends storms free. A lot more sophisticated in a strangely simple way. There’s enough of a hint of ancient chinese and japanese poets in them to suggest that they are zen literate. Certainly Townes Van Zandt chooses his words in a strange and amazingly economic way. Seems like his life was a mess; but his songsmith skills are truly inspired. I remember reading that the great contemporary mystic Meher Baba once suggested that there were a few pearls in country music that were something like the pearls in Sufi literature. That made me prick my ears up. An authority on the subject that I definitely trust. There’s no way to access the true essence of creativity from one’s conditioning. All that we have learned can’t access what’s between the lines. It can give us the tools to craft silence into sound I guess – but not the inspiration. We had a great Lion Island rehearsal today. Played songs we had a good handle on – and went high. Even though we weren’t all there. Rhythm dancing. Melody flying. Wry smiles dancing around over the top of microphones. Light flickering in happy eyes. Nothing to do with stars at all.

Crows and Crabs

Posted in Astrology with tags , , , , , , on July 7, 2009 by sudhirastropoetica


I woke up with full intention to go to the left. Life came rushing through the dor insisting I go to the right. Now i’m sitting here feeling stunned and trying to find the middle. The crows are crowing, as they do in these hills. There’s always someone nailing something and today is no exception. Let’s face it – there can be no mincing of words – the sign of Cancer is about Mother. Personal, universal and all gradations in between. How good are we at finding a healthy relationship with our mothers? Or with existence as our mother? This is one of the themes that radiates out from the symbol of the Crab. I’m touched by Pythagoras saying to be a good son. I get touched by such things – and by the authority of those who have arrived home. What does it mean to be a good son? For me it means to find a kind way to be myself. Sometimes I nail it and sometimes I forget. Sometimes a very friendly individuality – and sometimes i’m kicking and fighting to assert my independence – which is a sure sign that I haven’t got it. Mr Gurdjieff also – one of the few characters in recent history I regard as a bona fide hero (look him up) – says something like ‘before one can find God (oneself) one has to have made peace with one’s mother and father.’ I paraphrase. It sounds trite and simple, yet it is such a big journey. At this point in time I am comfortable with my personal mother, but i’m not always so comfortable with the universal mother as she comes at me through various close encounters. Does she want to swamp me? Or does she really want to love me? Is she aware of what she is up to? Or is she working her way to greater consciousness too? Do I and can I trust her? Which all goes to show that this is definitely a work in progress – and that these archetypal metaphors are good things to bounce around with, in the quest for significance. The hammering has stopped and the crows have been replaced by excitable parrots. How amazing is a day!

Crustaceans Part ?

Posted in Astrology, Music, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on July 4, 2009 by sudhirastropoetica


The wind is nuts. It’s been blowing wild and cold for days. A troublesome phenomena driving everone I know into some kind of vulnerability. Penetrating defences. Gillian Welch is crooning in the background. And I’m thinking about Crab symbology – as you do. The essence of Cancer seems to be about the whole dance of getting out of the womb. Leaving security for individuality. An eternal on-going story if ever there was one. It strikes me that astrology is full of universal themes. The good thing about that for a wily astrologer is that if he or she can tune into these universal themes, they will always strike a note. It’s hard to get it wrong from that perspective. There will always be bells ringing. Who isn’t struggling with some version of balancing the nourishment of home (womb) with the need to shine forth as an individual somewhere out there in the world? Universal. The subtlety of each person’s journey is what makes it interesting. Today I leave the womb (although it’s a rather chilly one) of my flat and head out into the wind, to go to Lion Island band practice. A mini-shakespearean mythical journey. Each day is full of them. Astrology can be a mirror in which to look at all sorts of little daily micro-adventures in a new light. There you go – and now i’m going to come out of my shell, Gillian Welch and all – and find something heroic and individualistic in the day. Maybe i’ll have a moment with my mandolin or my banjo or my band buddies.

Winter Stars in the Southern Hemisphere

Posted in Astrology, Uncategorized with tags , , , , on July 1, 2009 by sudhirastropoetica


Nails being hammered in the distance. A grandmother’s birthday party in nearer focus. Young voices feting the old. I’m steering my ship in the gaps between the grandmother’s wonderfully raucus laughs. The week has been full-on. Today is a day of semi-rest. It’s cold – but not too cold. The Sun is warm actually, outside the confines of my little flat cave. And it’s in the sign of Cancer. The summer sign in the northern hemisphere. The sign of warm fecundity placed incongruously in a southern winter. Winter the time of solitary goats and saturnalia’s and hardy survival tales. I’ve always found the seasonal placements of the star signs in the southern hemisphere odd. But what to do. Mine is not the role to actually shift the tradition. Question it – and take some of the seriousness out of it – but not shift it. Somebody else can do that.