This was the Gemini Full Moon 4º51′ on November 27th, 2024, setting at around 5:00 in the morning in Arizona.

I shared my prediction: “Gemini moon likes to talk, flirt, have fun, socialize. There may be an energy of quick-wit and banter today.

Full moons reveal something.

Pay attention to what people say today – something will be revealed that had previously been unknown to you regarding something you began two weeks ago, six months ago, or in the bigger picture, 18 months ago.

It’s a good day to write or speak.”

My brain was flying, I mean, it felt like the wind was whipping through my head. I took the picture before coffee, sending the image to friends on the east coast and giving them general Gemini Moon astro updates.

Do I really need to do it? Send updates first thing in the morning? I’m missing my friends, I’m missing the rhythms I began to build with them, the feeling of connectedness. Almost all my friends are new, even the people I have known since the late 80s and the 90s. I mean, those long term acquaintances are getting closer. I know they will be there when I return, and yet, I have felt so unmoored these last couple of years – especially with taking care of my mom and in some ways returning to the life I left behind twenty years ago.

I hope my friends will be there. When I was in my 20s, two months felt like an eternity. But in my 50s, it feels like no time at all, and yet, I have less life stretching out in from of me – so time feels more precious. Friends feel more precious.

A little help from my friends

In my 20s I used to do everything alone, mainly because I didn’t want to be a bother. When I moved from my studio in Brooklyn on November 1st, a new old friend offered to help me. I said yes. He assured me it would be easy. He was right. Packing up his truck and leaving was easy, quick,and smooth – downright pleasant!

Everything I owned moved to the cottage in the Hudson Valley.

November 3rd I celebrated a friend’s birthday with her ‘tween daughter. That night, and Saturday, November 4th, I stayed at the cottage (which has no heat) and packed for Arizona.

I told my family for the third time – I will not be home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. They finally heard it, once they asked. My mom was not happy with me. Sunday, the 5th, I said good-bye to her knowing she might not make it while I am away. I imagined a quiet moment with her, holding her hands and looking into her eyes, soft light on our faces. Instead, I climbed onto her bed, MSNBC droned in the background, the Bernese mountain dog, jealous for attention, punted at me with her nose at the edge of the bed. My face two inches from Mom’s face, dimly lit, “Goodbye. I’ll check in on the holidays, I love you. It’s OK ma, It’s ok, ma, It’s ok to relax, it’s ok to let go. It’s ok to let go, ok?” I kissed her cheeks and her forehead.

I don’t know what I feel. Dull sadness. The ache and pull between opposing expectations, grief and excitement.

Two of my girlfriends decided to send me off with a farewell dinner. On my way to the dinner, at the last minute, I met up with a man I had been seeing for a little over a year. It had been a few months since we split. We said good-bye again. We had coffee and walked and talked for a few blocks. The topic of conversation was familiar and also had a new tone of finality to it. For him, my two-month leave added to the completeness, the realness of the end.

This time he could feel me gone.

Oh, my sweet friends! Dinner was filled with laughter! They got me out of the cottage and moving on for a softer transition from leaving Brooklyn and traveling to the southwest (and for my future return to the east coast and figuring out where I will settle down). They knew I’d already gone beyond my fill with my family – a little grace, a little love, a little girl time after moving before traveling was in order.

I had a couple of days before catching my flight. I left my car with one friend and drove up to Albany with the other friend. I slept on her couch for two nights and flew to Flagstaff, Tuesday, November 7th. By the time I was set up in Arizona I hadn’t slept for over 24 hours.

By the third day here I said – I think I am relaxing. (Yeah, yeah I was relaxing, but not yet relaxed).

I have friends here. I had the most beautiful Thanksgiving with my friends. Yet where I am is remote. I don’t see people every day. I am finally (finally!!) figuring out not seeing people I love everyday is not good for me. It makes me sad.

Sending messages to my friends back east, back home, sending the sounds of the desert, the images and and the music of the sunrises and the sunsets – it’s making me feel not so alone here.

Message from the Mountain

And this week of the full moon, I feel agitated. I’ve sent some of these messages and images to friends:

I’ve been here for only three weeks and it feels like six.
Today the air turned cold and windy –
i think I will go to Sedona Thursday or Friday.
Get warm!

~ ~ ~ ~

I have been staring at this. The wind chimes are wild in the wind.
Scattered. I feel scattered. The wind does that.

I’m going to go into this with creams and yellows and browns –
maybe some violet –
the colors that are out here as the flowers begin to die.
All some versions of color with brown.

~ ~ ~ ~

I used to live at the very foothills of the peaks – up the street was
a massive sunflower field. That’s what I was thinking of when I went in with the last bit of lines.
It was September 2021 the last time I touched this painting.

I have a massive image collection.
Anyway –
part of the process –
looking, looking away, looking at images, walking, coming back and painting.

~ ~ ~ ~

I’m out walking right now and it feels good. Just thinking about imagery, and painting color.
(I was thinking about more than that,
but why get into what I don’t have words for yet.
The words are there, at the back of my throat,
but they aren’t coming yet)

It’s good to move my body outside.
I was getting really wound up and uncomfortable indoors.
Yeah this moon has me very uncomfortable.
(Go ahead, blame everything on the moon)

~ ~ ~ ~

This trip is a little uncomfortable.
But collecting imagery
has always helped me feel grounded.

~ ~ ~ ~

Sitting here staring at this. I feel / think I’m ready to get on with it.

~ ~ ~ ~

I feel very scattered and uncomfortable today. Antsy.

I want to be back in New York getting on with my life.
At the same time I know this is good because
I have barely done anything to help
get me back and settled into the “what next” of my existence.

~ ~ ~ ~

I’m going to go into this with creams and yellows and browns –
maybe some violet – the colors
that are out here when the flowers
begin to die.
All some versions of color with brown

~ ~ ~ ~

I have thumbnails – been drawing thumbnails
of paintings I’d like to get on with after I finish this one and get set
in a new studio

The cardboard series (for the Kingston show) opened me up to a new approach.

~ ~ ~ ~

I guess I am sorting through discomfort.
And looking for color, too.
Maybe flipping through photos is a good thing
or not a good thing – I’m not sure.

~ ~ ~ ~

Love you.

~ ~ ~ ~

All I can do is put one foot in front of the other and trust. And enjoy where I am. At least feel where I am.

Today I will savor the blue sky, the sparkle of the snow and ice on the tall grass, the fresh air, and the peaks in the distance. And maybe even paint!

Moon History

Going back to the moon – so much has been revealed. The details are personal, but the arch goes like this:

Eighteen months ago:

• I was accepted as an artist to receive the gift of funding from a private group called Creatives Rebuild New York.
• I was full of hope that I could both care for my mom and make art.
• I was making new friends and (re)building community in New York.
• I reviewed the Gemini New Moon world of “what-ifs” – that springtime hopefulness of playful, childlike dreaming. Thank goodness, it was a relief!
• I wrapped up an intense PSI Seminar Retreat in New Mexico. I learned so much on that retreat – and so much continues to unfold! I also sold almost all of my big Arizona paintings. The entire trip was symbolic of the entire shift from Southwest to East Coast.

Six months ago:

• I had no paintings when I said “yes” to an art show at The Kingston Pop Museum. I had two weeks to make enough work to fill a wall – and I did it. I created a series of cardboard pieces that changed the way I work.
• I spent a lot of time walking around Brooklyn looking and collecting images.
• Finally began to get into a groove with art making. The work begets the work!
• I was at the beginning of realizing I am building a universe – and there is still so much to do!
• I acknowledged and celebrated my curiosity.
• I remember feeling very excited about Gemini 2023 New Moon. I walked around the city on a drizzly day photographing trees.
• I admitted my grief over my mom – and my physical and emotional inability to continue being her main caregiver.

Two weeks ago (Scorpio New Moon):

• I am free to explore spaciousness in my life – physically, mentally, creatively and emotionally
• I expect and experience miracles every day
• I am feeling – not shutting down or bypassing – I am feeling.
• I am very grateful for my friendships
• I am choosing conscious communication with curiosity and love
• I feel having a beautiful loving open creative relationship is possible.
• I am grateful for trees and fresh air – my lungs felt burned/damaged from being around strong smells, third hand smoke, mold and perhaps long covid.
• Being an HSP (and very sensitive to smell and textures) has saved my life in numerous sketchy situations. Sensitivity is a super power.
• And this very special thing happened: I got lost in the woods, it got dark, my friends rescued me. I was embarrassed and felt humiliated for getting lost. Once I was safe, I cried and felt sad to be alone. It was the first time in a very long time – years – I was sad for not having a partner. And it occurred to me that the last time I felt like a boyfriend could be a life partner, where I imagined we really could build a life together, was before I was 20 years old. That night, my feelings were telling me:

“You are opening to love. It is possible for you to have it. You are loving and lovable. And your friends love you so much. How cool is it to get this clarity? Slow down. Look around. Don’t panic. You get to choose.”

December 1st, 2023
Flagstaff, Arizona