Profiling the Arty Farty

Still on this week's theme, mentioned in Monday's post:
I'd not looked at my own "profile" on this blog for years. In 2006, when I opened Learning Curve on the Ecliptic, I listed my interests as: "astrology, psychic phenomena, music, politics, art, writing". This week, just for a change from random scribbling, I'm re-airing, at a rate of one topic per day, a past post - one that I feel remains relevant.

Today's topic, because it's Arty Farty Friday, has to be: art. So many artists have been investigated on Fridays, over the years, it's hard to choose just one. How about this somewhat ragged, forgotten post from way back in April, 2007?

Surrealism, Abstract Art and Astrology

Styles of art have always intrigued me, especially surrealism and abstract art, which tend to overlap. These are expressions of the unconscious mind, concepts, emotions and ideas. Some artists who embraced these styles eschewed representational art entirely, in favour of symbolism form and colour, while others retained almost photographic depiction of their subject, but set it in surreal situations.

I wondered whether any indication towards one or other of these styles might be found in the natal charts of some well known artists. Using the "stand well back" approach I concentrated on two generational planets, Uranus and Neptune, along with Saturn. Reason: Saturn represents the establishment, the status quo, and probably representational art - realism. Uranus represents the new, the avant garde, the inventive. Neptune is involved with the dreamy and imaginative. Although Uranus and Neptune are generational, I think that the way Saturn interacts with them might be significant here, in the way the artists gravitated towards two different styles of expression.

Next to each birth date below I've listed the sign positions of Uranus, Neptune and Saturn, in that order. (Harmonious and inharmonious aspects are within reasonable orb/limits.)


Salvador Dali used strange dream-like images in his pictures , yet the figures and objects he used were mainly recognisable and intricately drawn. Likewise in the case of Rene Magritte and Escher.

Dali -11 May 1904 Figueras, Spain. (Sag/Can/Aqua) - Uranus and Saturn in harmony, Neptune not.





Magritte (left) - 21 Nov. 1898, Lessines, Belgium. (Sag/Gem/Sag) - All in harmony.








Escher 18 June 1898, Leeuwarden, Netherlands. (Sag/Gem/Sag)- All in harmony.









Dali, Magritte and Escher are what I'd call "representational surrealists", depicting real people, creatures or objects in surreal situations. In their charts Saturn and Uranus are in harmony, perhaps giving these artists the wish, and the ability to express ideas in new ways, but without fully abandoning the traditional.

Artists such as Klee, Miro, and Mondrian used shapes, symbols, balance and colour to convey their message.


Paul Klee 18 Dec. 1879, Munchenbuchsee, Switzerland. (Virgo/Taurus/Aries) Uranus out of tune with Saturn.








Mondrian 7 March 1872, Amersfoort, Netherlands. (Can/Aries/Cap) Uranus opposes Saturn.









Miro 20 April 1893, Barcelona, Spain. (Scorpio/Gem/Lib) Uranus out of tune with Saturn





Klee, Miro and Mondrian painted in symbols, with forms and colour to get their message across - no hint of realism at all. In the natal charts of these artists Uranus and Saturn are not in harmony. The artists have moved right away from the traditional to new means of expression. There is no merging of old and new.

Profiling Astrology

As mentioned in Monday's post, I'd not looked at my own "profile" on this blog for years. In 2006, when I opened Learning Curve on the Ecliptic, I listed my interests as: "astrology, psychic phenomena, music, politics, art, writing". This week, just for a change from random scribbling, I'm re-airing, at a rate of one topic per day, a past post - one that I feel remains relevant.


Today's topic: astrology, it's an important one, it was the sole reason for this blog's creation, though in time my other interests have overtaken constant planetary ponderings. Today, I'm back-tracking all the way to August 2006 and my first post on astrology:
"Astrology - How?"

I don't know how astrology works. Nobody does. Most astrologers find some way of explaining it. Some are unacceptable, even to me. This is how I see it:

The Universe is full of energies, forces, elements of which we know very little, if anything. More and more is being discovered with every month that passes.I believe there are "energies" for want of a better word, or perhaps a better description would be "a kind of atmospheric soup", to which our human bodies react, starting with our first breath after birth into this world as a separate entity from our mothers. With that first breath we are "imprinted" (again for want of a better word) with a pattern or blueprint based on the mix of energies at that very minute, in that particular place. This imprint blends with the genetically inherited flesh and blood from which we are formed. From centuries of observation, it would appear that these "energies" are somehow connected with the planets in our solar system, and their movements around the ecliptic.

As we grow, the planets and their movements continue to have some relevance, because our imprinted circuitry is sensitive, especially as the planets move over certain areas. From my own experience, this occurs on a much lesser scale than that which popular astrologers would have us believe. The outer, slow moving planets can affect our lives to varying degrees at a few specific points in any life span...not every day, every week, or even every year. Most of the time we are free-wheeling, using our inborn blueprint, living our lives using free will, making our own mistakes, enjoying our own triumphs. Just a few times in a life the Universe steps in and a particular configuration of planets - triggers our own imprint and re-directs matters. Even then, though, it remains in our hands as to how we react to this re-direction. These especially sensitive configurations can occur cyclically.

Astrology has a long, long history, reaching back in time further even than we know. The knowledge passed down through centuries might well have become mangled, mis-translated, and politically censored from time to time - rather like the Bible. Astrologers today still use many of the terms and methods of the ancient astrologers. This very fact is off-putting to many. In ancient times people understood the un-knowable in the best way they could. They used fables, deities, archetypes, and strange symbolic glyphs to describe ideas which could not otherwise be explained. I believe that the core of astrological knowledge comes from way beyond anything we can now trace. Perhaps from another dimension, or a past civilisation which, as yet, we know nothing about?

The notion that planets, and various accurately measured points in space can affect our lives may seem unbelievable, yet there ARE patterns. Just as the planets move in regular definable cycles, there are rhythms and patterns in all our lives. There are patterns of personality which can be seen to emerge based on positions of the planets and the angles they make with one another at the time of birth There are patterns in the stages of our lives. There is a rhythm which can be traced back to the dance of our planets.

Profiling on Music Monday

I'd not looked at my own "profile" on this blog for years. It'll have needed little change since 2006 when I opened Learning Curve on the Ecliptic. I then listed my interests as: "astrology, psychic phenomena, music, politics, art, writing". This week, just for a change from random scribbling, I'm going to re-air, at a rate of one per day (maybe) a past post I consider still to be of interest on each of those topics.

As today is Music Monday I'll begin in the midst of that profiled list of interests with an old post on music. I've chosen something I didn't write myself, but used as a guest post back in 2012. Oddly, this old journal post, written by my husband, wasn't originally posted on a Monday, though does fit Music Monday's category well.





GUEST POST by "anyjazz", aka my husband:

Miss Lindeman's 4th Grade Class, 1947.

“What kind of music do you like?”
“Do you play an instrument?”
“When do you find time to play all your records?”
“What started your interest in music?”

It’s a long story.

In fourth grade Miss Lindeman told the class, “Listen and see if you can hear the horses. Listen to this and imagine a gypsy dancing. Listen for the raindrops and the storm starting.” And we did.

It probably falls back to the trite old adage: “One must listen, not just hear.” Or something like that.

Lots of people hear music without really listening for the raindrops and the call to arms. Miss Lindeman told us to listen. She taught us that there was something in addition to the melody or the words. Treasures were hidden in those sounds.

So for those of us who really listen, we hear a painting, colors and feelings. The composer gathers his thoughts or the musician speaks to us. We experience layers and textures, emotions and ideas.

Most enjoy hearing music. Some only enjoy certain areas, country, jazz, classical. The Listener likes anything musical. Anything Musical.

Many people enjoy hearing songs with words so they can identify with the singer or the story being told. But for the Listener, it is a deeper experience. A Listener hears the music and sometimes knows the brand of the guitar playing, or when a breath was taken in a solo phrase. We know how hard a clarinet is to play. We know when a jazz artist has borrowed a bit of a solo from an old scratchy record. We hear the emotion coming from a breathy saxophone solo or thrill at the coda in a violin concerto.

Some hear a classical opus and find it quite satisfying. A Listener knows when a favorite classical overture is being played by a different orchestra or maybe led by a different conductor: a note held longer here, a cymbal a bit louder there.

Miss Lindeman taught us how to listen. Thanks, Miss Lindeman.

Dad had an old 78RPM record changer perched atop the refrigerator. It couldn’t be reached by six year old hands. He played a Benny Goodman record, “Sometimes I’m Happy” and said, “Listen to the sax section.” And a six year old listened not knowing what a “sax” was, let alone the mysterious “section.”

Listening began.

Thanks, Dad.