MUSE

20. Astrologer, Tarot Reader, Journalist. Derrick | Celestial

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Surviving the Social Suicide

Think of the time when you survived the Social Suicide. The time when your status sunk lower than it possibly could have (in your perception), You never would have thought yourself to be the person everyone saw you as.

And think of the moment you looked in the mirror and saw it too, saw yourself as this despicably humiliated person. And the horror of realizing there was really no one to blame.

Yes things had been done to you, and misfortune had befallen you over and over again in material matters and the material world. But the character that you represent? It was all you, always you. No one told you to become unprincipled, no one told you to become cruel, spineless, selfish, or listless.

Can you remember that feeling of looking in the mirror and seeing that person that even you would not want to be companions with?

Now remember what you did next. For most people it's nothing, for most people it was written off as those regular self deprecating thoughts that are apart of the human experience. The reason why the ego exists is to protect us from such blows to the confidence in our character that are so regular when our character attempts to mesh with others. But that moment is different and we all know it was different, it was the moment we could not reconcile what we saw in the mirror, with what we thought of ourselves for months and years up to that point. That moment when every compliment started to bounce off us and every critique started to melt deeply into our heart and soul.

Before you know it there's this ugly darkness staining where there was once hope for our future. You see a future and realize with growing horror, day by day, that you don't see yourself in it. It's bright and beautiful and you aren't there. The euphoria of a happy, stable life isn't one where your character fits.

And it didn't just hurt, it decayed at your soul. Like a blight or infection in a fucked up zombie movie. But it's worse because it wasn't a sickness you caught or were 'exposed' to, it was you. You chose the decay and hurt you were feeling. That deep depression that starts to eat away at even the good things you once saw in mirror. Till one day you look and see nothing.

A void where light doesn't reach, and it constantly craves more. More money, more excitement, more friends, more fun. More love.

Then in a moment of clarity it comes to you that you're alone. Through this pain that disguised itself as clarity, and this silent enduring of self hatred, you could not feel a connection to others. The void does not connect and it cannot be connected with.

In these moments you may have contemplated the worst, the removing of yourself from the equation and how to do it without harming others. You have the horrifying realization that you've already done it.

So what do you do? Do you die? Well the conclusion you just came to is that you've already been doing that. You've scouted out the plot, bought the gravestone, and dug the grave. You are looking into a dirty hole and telling yourself to climb in. What do you do?

Well you get scared. As we all are, death is never peaceful. We can delude ourselves into comfort, into saying we are not afraid but being faced with that dirty hole and gravestone with your name on it. You are afraid.

So you walk away, and that walk breaks into a run, and before you know it you are desperately clawing to get away from this grave you dug. Sex, Drugs, Parties, Faux Love. Until you end up where it all started. In the mirror. And it hurts. It hurts like your skin burning and water filling your lungs and tightness in your throat. Faced with that void in the mirror it hurts so bad you want to run right back to the grave you dug a lifetime ago.

And a lot of us have run back to that grave. May their souls rest in peace.

But some of us feel a fire, and it is not righteous and it is not pretty. This ugly fire that makes us want to shatter the image that led us to so much pain and suffering. So much time wasted on the void that always wants more.

But you can't shatter the image, it's you reflected back. It will always be you and it always has been. You realize that choice to do nothing from so long ago was a choice. You chose to run. You chose to not face yourself and everything you had done, ever will do, and want to do. That hopeless despair that you did it all to yourself sets in again but after a lifetime of running that fire passions you into a wrath. A raging against the reflection, a raging against the world that 'did this to you', a raging against those who abandoned you to endure the void alone.

And in a moment of rage and wrath and ugly despicable hatred for the reflection something reaches you. I can't know what it is but something reaches through that void and for the first time in a lifetime it doesn't hurt. Maybe it was exhilerating, exhuasting, sad, lovely. And it's different to the running. It's different to the sex, the drugs, the parties, and that painful thing disguised as love.

It's real. It's so real you tell yourself it's fake, You tell yourself you can't have this and that it's just a dream. Another lie to distract from the truth that is the void.

But you can't resist doing it anyways. Again and again, like a sweet treat before bed, or a secret whispered to a best friend on the playground.

So instead of living in the graveyard, a new lifetime passes in this in-between. Neither living nor dying. A lifetime spent at the crossroads, at the in-between. Asleep.

This isn't living.

I know it's not but I can't help myself. Stop making this personal, it's easier if it's not. Don't break my third wall.

Whatever.

So this isn't living, and you know that. But you're still here, waiting for something to drag you out into the light. Out of the fog.

No one is coming.

And I know that- You know that. So walk anyways. Stumble, scream, cry, laugh, and one day the fog might not be there.

the fog will always be there.

I told you to shut up.

The fog won't always be there. You have to believe the fog won't always be there. Because I have to believe the fog won't always be there. The cake isn't a lie and the fog isn't coming. This was supposed to have a happy ending. This was supposed to be a beacon of hope.

It isn't.

Instead I fear this would just make things worse. Make it foggier, make it hurt more. I can close my eyes and see that grave even now.

Come to me.

I won't because I can't, they won't let me, and I love them.

That didn't stop you before.

They love me too. Goddamnit they love me too and I can't hurt them the way I would hurt myself.

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Aquarius and Intimacy

Of all the signs prone to intimacy wounds, I think it has to be Aquarius.

Now I know that seems hasty especially when intimacy and water signs are often seen as two peas in a pod, but that's exactly what I mean. Even if watery energy is poorly aspected, it is still incentivized to be intimate.

Aquarius though? There is no outside incentive. Not only is it not their life purpose (speaking strictly as if though the energy is in isolation) but being the Air Sign that is ruled by Saturn, and is thus called more to karmic endeavors in their life, they can even neglect this.

Is what it looks like to a non-aquarian.

Then I got to thinking about what the chart of someone who is an Aquarius ASC looks like, and found that the water signs are present in the 2nd (Pisces), 6th(Cancer), and 10th(Scorpio) houses. So what can this tell us about all aquarius placements/people? Well that their emotions are rooted in something very real, and very felt, in their daily life. Emotions are not just felt, they affect, it is seen in their worldly possessions (or lack thereof since Pisces gives a sense that these natives are never really sure of their 'ownership' over anything), their daily routine is very much based on their mood. Changes with the moon as any Cancer knows. The 10th house? Well I don't need to say much about the house known as the 'career' house, can't get more worldly than that.

So then I remember that Aquarius is often called to otherworldly endeavors, something greater than themselves. Unlike Capricorn, who is called to work and master the self, Aquarius is called to master others…. that sounds a little weird let me explain.

First let's look at all of the air signs, which we know to be social. Whether they like it or not, Libra, Gemini, and Aquarius must face humanity in some regard in this life. Gemini, ruled by Mercury, is called to communicate, but on an interpersonal level. They are called to master communication in intimate groups of people. Three's a crowd and Gemini can't handle much more communication than that. Libra? Libra is called to the balancing act between groups of people, Venus as the ruling planet calls for things to be orderly in a pleasing way. The aesthetics of it all, Optics if you will.

Then Aquarius, ruled by Saturn, is called to… work hard? Well no, Aquarius is called to show us what we have neglected. Aquarius says "look. We have already let this go on for too long, we must put time into changing this" and that word time is key for why Aquarius is most likely to have intimacy wounds. The time it takes to change the world, is time that is often not invested in emotions. There is no time to focus on the individual, only on the collective (hence why the highest point in the chart for an Aquarius ASC is Scorpio, the sign of transformation and ruled by Mars/Pluto. Emotion that is only used to move forward collectively.) Yet it is very well known that Saturn ruled natives experience intense personal events. No one debates this when it comes to Capricorn, the universe shapes these people under the energies they were born under.

So when I think of Aquarius I think of a long life where no matter if it was good or bad it was not theirs. It is for the greater good, it is for the collective, for family(cancer 6th), for friends(Libra 9th), but never for the native. And when something is never for you, how will you heal? Especially when the only time someone sees your emotions is when they are so deeply transformative and intense that it can only be read as intense(Scorpio 10th).

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Based on my previous writing. Life as an Act of Resistance.

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Life as an act of Resistance.

Death surrounds me, as it does all of us, but I've never focused on it.

This isn't because Death is somehow unworthy of my attention, nor is it 'unimportant' but because to me it's the tool of an oppressor. This is to say death and more particularly the fear of death is the tool that kept me under control for my adolescence. The fear of the reality, that all things will die, is used to keep us under control.

Aren't you afraid to not have a job? (death) Aren't you afraid to be poor? (death) Aren't you afraid of failure? (death)

I reject these fears. Not because I reject death but I reject it's power over me. I spent a lifetime marinating in these fears. Pondering the impermanence of everything around me. The darkness inside of other people, the darkness in me, the shadow the sun casts on those who refuse (or are refused) it's light.

So now what? I reject fear and….. that's it? Now I get to skip through life sunshine and rainbows with no fears!

Is what someone who's not me would probably say. The reality is fear is very familiar to me, I live with it everyday so I must create something to alleviate this. I must create Life, nourish life, make the world around me so alive that the death inside of me is inconsequential. Irrelevant.

Death is irrelevant to me, not because it has no impact but because I have no control over it. I have surrendered to death and it has freed me from the fear. Death will not change no matter what I do. So why waste my time being afraid of it?

And let me be very clear. It is a waste to me. It is a waste of my life and a waste of my potential to marinate in fear. To even give it the time of day in something as personal as my art disgusts me.

So it is with a hopeful heart that I say this will be the first and hopefully last time I dignify fear with a post like this.

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M.U.S.E

There's a world of color and noise that as artists we're constantly trying to combine into something physical. Something tangible, and often we get lost in that step (The Making) that we can neglect the first step. The Musing.

Musing over the world around us is the first step for every artist. It is the gateway to the canvas. It is the sketch before the sketch. The draft before the draft. So it only tracks that getting lost in the Musing is often what keeps artists from really creating. (Although I would say most artists stuck in the Musing haven't even realized they are creators yet)

But when we as artists free ourselves of this constraint. When we say we can create something as grand as our Musings, there is a tendency to leave behind the Musing. To let it decay into something that may become just as draining as The Making.

I especially struggle with this, always have. The airheaded-ness, the maladaptive daydreaming, the hopping from one thought to another. The upside to this digital landscape is there is more information than ever to Muse over. The downside is the capitalist dystopia does not allot us the time to make sense of it. To sift through the noise and find our gold. The Muse that makes us dream of our Magnum Opus(s) can be exhausting to pinpoint through the noise.

So it is with that practical knowledge in mind of the creative process that the MUSE is born. Mastery, Unity, Style Episodes. Each of us should more meaningfully and efficiently consume, we exert so much of ourselves when we just try and sift through the noise. Scrolling reels, TikTok, shorts, Twitter X, these are all tools that are designed to work against our artistic inclinations. So I propose that instead of rejecting the thing designed to subjugate us, make our minds squishy and dumb so we buy more squishy and dumb things, we can learn to Master it and Unite it with ourselves. A Mastery of the social and digital landscape to then turn into a Unity with it. We can inject our own Style, Unite with the social landscape, then Master it. Or maybe someone will find their Style through Uniting first!

Point being there's a world at our fingertips that we let control us. Rule us. And MUSE is here to help you recognize your power, one step at a time. Through the study and observation of others who have seemingly walked this path. When we are lost by what seems to be a desert, MUSE aims to help artists realize that what looks to be a desert, is a million desire paths from artists before us. We only have to find our own path, and walk it.

Resolve yourself to walk the artistic path. Do it happy. Do it sad. Do it scared. The Making calls to all of us, and it can drive some of us mad to not indulge. The Musing is the first and most confusing step. Intuitive rather than logical, it requires a belief that our current world would rather beat out of us. So resolve. Walk the path and take your power back.

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The Art of the Uncanny Vs. Primal

When someone is asked to think about the earliest human art, most think of handprints on the walls of a dingy cave. A crude but heartwarming drawing of wolf and man. The stick figures all standing with smaller stick figures in an image we all know as 'family photo'. And it's through this line of questioning I find myself asking "What was the first audience like?"

So after asking myself that question then going to doomscroll TikTok I've come to the conclusion that the first audience was probably pretty shit. By my standards anyways, because a 'good' audience is an engaged one. It's one that is interacting with the stage so closely the artist can feel their energy. So then I come to my answer

"What was the first audience like?" ---> "Artists who were on break or hadn't started yet."

I come to this conclusion not as a way to say 'fuck you! bad audience!' but to say that those who find themselves face to face with artistry. Those who find themselves in front of the stage but not on it, are still artists. There's an art in being drawn to the stage, standing in front of it and feeling the tide push and pull you. The music, the dance, the color. Whatever is on the stage is Art in that moment. So I've covered art as an action, but going back to the concept of feeling the energy of the stage. This alone is proof of an artist. That connection to the stage is a taste of art, and when you've had a taste there's the chance to get hungry for more.

So again, I got hungry. I looked for whatever path would let me taste more of art. Would let me gorge myself on it, and instead found the deepest pit of emptiness. This wasn't intentional but it was by design, just not my design. Art is many things (I would even personally say art is everything) but empty? That's typically indicative of 'bad' art. Empty art and soulless art are the same thing right? Well to that question I think of my friend @yeli_michi's art. Her art consists of poetry and simple visuals using a very advanced technology (google slides). If you look at her early work it's eclectic, desaturated color palette, and distinctly queer. But now? The work has taken a clear turn for the intense. It's hitting you with something that I just couldn't name. I didn't understand. Even worse, sometimes I felt like it was taking something from me.

So I went to my local show looking for answers.

I've been before, but it can still feel new to me. Nellie only took me to my first show (and second ever concert) at the beginning of the year, around March. So this was the first time I walked in looking for answers not from the audience but from the stage. I wasn't just watching, I was listening, I was connecting. There I learned that the band Nellie and I are both invested in has art that I also don't understand in similar ways. Goodnight Ground's song 'No Lie' has always given me a similar feel of being hit with something you can't name. In the past I described it as spores but even that isn't quite correct. So instead of forcing an answer, I kept watching and waiting for one. Then Lemon Bread and The Gay Agenda came onto the stage. There I felt a flurry of intense feelings. All of them with names, attraction, envy, joy, admiration, pain.

These feelings came to me in a whirlwind. There was no time to rest, the stage was electric with their energy. Oozing with it. I couldn't help but feel Liz (Lemon Bread) and Hurtt (The Gay Agenda). Now Leo (Goodnight Ground) has a similar affect on me too, no surprises there. Good performers can reach the audience through anything so long as the audience is willing to connect. However Goodnight Ground's music doesn't make me feel that way, if anything it makes me tired. It takes something from me.

Now this is the point that most people stop. This type of art makes me feel something and this other type doesn't, I like Y more than I like X. Instead of stopping there though, imagine for a second your friend is right next to you. Infatuated with a performance that you just don't feel. It's draining to focus on, you strain your eyes and ears to see what they're seeing. You ask yourself "why would my friend want to feel this way?" Now imagine you're starstruck, can't help but give your entire being to watching, listening, connecting. Then you look over to your friend who is straining. Straining to watch, listen, connect. I couldn't understand it, but I wanted to. So I went home and ruminated and came to this.

Uncanny Art demands I think about death. Nellie and Goodnight Ground demand me to think about the cycle of pain and rebirth. It humbles me and breaks me down to the things that hurt. The things I'd rather keep out of a public eye. Primal Art demands I think about life. Lemon Bread and The Gay Agenda represent the primal desire to live. So then Uncanny Art is radical death, while Primal Art is radical life. Whether we prefer to live or to die is irrelevant to asking yourself which one makes you feel more alive? What style of art inspires you to become one with the stage?

Wrote this while listening to: No Lie, Church of the Technochrist, Seeds of Gold, Aerials, Dancer, face.

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About Me

Sagittarius Ascendant, Virgo Jupiter

Leo Sun

Libra Midheaven, Cancer Venus Life Path 7

Astrologer for 9 years

Tarot Reader for 6 years