By Jesse Marx
By Chris Parker
By Jake Rossen
By Jesse Marx
By Michelle LeBow
By Alleen Brown
By Maggie LaMaack
By CP Staff
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): "We were expelled from Paradise," wrote Franz Kafka in The Blue Octavo Notebooks, "but Paradise was not destroyed. In a sense our expulsion from Paradise was a stroke of luck, for had we not been expelled, Paradise would have had to be destroyed." Do those ruminations strike a chord in you, Sagittarius? I hope they move you to turn your thoughts towards your own personal version of paradise-on-earth. Consider the possibility that it was important for you to have been exiled from that land of bounty once upon a time. Meditate on what you'll need to do to prepare yourself to return to it when it becomes accessible again in the future.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): "Most painting in the European tradition involved painting the person's mask," wrote abstract expressionist painter Robert Motherwell. "Modern art rejected all that. Our subject matter has been the person behind the mask." Your next assignment is similar to that of modern art's, Capricorn: to recognize everyone's persona, but delve deeper to explore the maddeningly complex, crazily inscrutable, gorgeously wounded soul that's hidden beneath everyone's persona. Strip away the surface, in other words, and investigate the essence lurking below.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): The zoo in Anchorage, Alaska built a treadmill for its four-ton elephant. The cost was high–$150,000–but hey, if you own an elephant, you'd better take good care of it, right? Use this vignette as your operative metaphor, Aquarius. What's the symbolic equivalent of an elephant in your life–some exotic resource or giant responsibility or out-of-place treasure? Whatever it is, it needs extra care and attention. I'm not saying you have to spend a load of money. But you should at least spend some of your high-quality time.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Dear Pisces: We need a break from all these words we use, all this rational discourse. So how about if we sing to each other in a made-up language? Or we could use felt-tip markers to draw pictures and symbols on each other's bodies. Let's jump in over our heads and dance for each other underwater. Let's pretend we're two Helen Kellers tapping out codes on each other's wrists and ankles. Let's scrawl the stream-of-consciousness truths we want to express to each other on golden cards, and read them aloud to each other like we're announcing Oscar winners.