Under The Wet Moon [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Astrologically, we are in the sun sign of Aquarius. The water bearer. I was surprised to read that the corresponding moon cycle is known as the wet-moon, a reference drawn from Hawaiian mythology. This cycle “…corresponds with Kaelo the Water Bearer in Hawaiian astrology and makes the Moon known as the “dripping wet moon”.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that the zodiac of the west aligns so perfectly with the symbology of the Pacific Islanders. In Hindu astrology, “Aquarius is known as Kumbha Rāśi representing the symbol of the water pot.” The cultural traditions on Earth are drawn beneath the same constellations.

During the opening ceremony of the Olympics, a commentator referenced The Pale Blue Dot, a photograph taken of Earth in 1990 from the Voyager 1 space probe. “In the photograph, Earth’s apparent size is less than a pixel; the planet appears as a tiny dot against the vastness of space…” Incidentally, the photograph was taken on February 14 – according to the 12 month Julian calendar – a solar calendar created by humans on Earth, during the period of the wet-moon.

I suppose our definition of “belonging” depends on the parameters we choose. And, make no mistake, it is a choice. We can choose to identify ourselves according to divisions, something like the color line. We can choose to identify ourselves according to imaginary lines on a map. We can choose our tribes according to cultural differences.

Or, we can choose to identify ourselves according the unities. We can choose to recognize that we live under the same stars and orient to the same constellations. We can step back, deep into space, and look at ourselves, a dot no larger than a pixel. Our differences are not nearly so vast as our sameness. No amount of rhetoric or propaganda or white supremacy or religious extremism can alter the fact of our sameness.

The word February comes from februa, a Roman purification festival held during the period of the wet-moon. Under the wet-moon, athletes from all over the world, athletes representing 92 different cultures, 92 shapes drawn on a map of Earth but not visible anywhere from space, marched into a stadium in Milan, Italy, waving flags, symbols of their home nation. Their competition made possible only by the existence of others who also dream of gold, silver and bronze, a shared dream beneath the same constellation of stars.

It has all the makings of an ancient purification festival. And, just in time.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE MOON

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Chisel [on DR Thursday]

The conversation in the car was about astrology. I am an Aquarius. Confusingly, the water-bearer is an air sign. Kerri is Aries; fire. “Air is necessary for fire,” she laughed. As in most metaphors and models, each element transforms the others. It’s creation-in-motion. Life is a great shapeshifter. A single element is undefinable without the others.

The same is true with people. We only know who we are relative to the others in our lives. The heat of our relationships transform us. Transformation is a daily reality, a common experience, but so ubiquitous that it goes unseen. We only notice it when the volcano erupts or when we wake up one day and say to ourselves, “I am different now.”

The beautiful canyons in Utah were, over eons, carved by water. Zion. Arches. The Grand. Everyday, water meets earth. Heat and wind. Sculpture.

Long drives bring reminiscence. Something sparked our conversation about the canyons we’ve carved in our lives. Everyday, trickles of water. Relationship. Slow, almost imperceptible changes. One day, after years and years, you look in the mirror and see the colors revealed by erosion and time. The chiseled shape. Pieces and parts that felt essential, washed away. What remains?

Beautiful. Crucial. Elemental. Still transforming.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WATER

face the rain © 2019 david robinson