#tethys
Sun in Gemini I — Tethys
The Sun enters Gemini I at 9:23 pm EDT tonight (20 May 2022), the realm of Tethys— mythology’s evolving Darwin to Okeanos’ Newtonian firmament. What is assured for all time? What must change? What is too abstract, and what must be concretized?
Tethys, goddess of the sea, was the ancient ruler of Gemini I — which the Sun enters on May 20, 2022 at 9:23 pm EDT. Called “The Apple of Eden” by Austin Coppock, it was associated in the days of the magician Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa with the liberal arts and sciences — The seven Liberal Arts are well known of course: grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, geometry, music and astronomy. Yet the…
In my favorite place on earth, I begin to feel my real self awakening once again.
The amphitheater opens up in sunlight, gathered in by the sweet smells of familiarity and freshness.
I sense the weight of anticipation–a jittery, buzzing weight that sits above my collarbones and in my hands and neck, like the way I feel when I have an arrow pulled back into the bowstring, ready and waiting to fly out to the target.
What a joy to no longer be kept within the city.
In the ground below my feet, I can feel the deer and squirrels running through the forest, rejuvenated by Spring, stretching their legs out for Summer.
The presence of the brook, running through the island and down to the lagoon, froths with a mirth near to my heart.
I catch her glance before she looks away the next moment.
Her eyes are framed with an intricate pattern of dark spots that stand out against her olive skin.
She’s new.
That other girl–Astraea, if I remember correctly–walks up to introduce herself to the girl.
I feel an arm over my shoulders.
As I turn, the sight of the cherry red hair releases the warm laughter of familiarity.
“Aha, Leo!” I say, taking him in an embrace. “How’s it goin’ man?”
He releases me and nods. “It’s–you know, it’s goin’.” His half-grin still beneath that casual gleam in his eye.
I sense the way the moment could tip from lightweight to heavy in a small choice of words, so I shy away from specificity.
“I’m glad you’re here, man. It’s good to see you,” I say.
I lend him my full smile.
“Same,” he says.
Phoenix calls our attention, and so we take our seats in the curved cement rows of the amphitheater.
My brother Helios takes his seat on the other side of Leo and gives him a squeeze.
I notice the spotted girl walking in front of me to sit down next to a taller boy.
She’s got the Solarion expression like me–he’s got the Zephyrnos expression, like my brother.
He nudges her with his left wing–she pushes him back forcefully, but grins, the tips of her fangs showing.
And something in their eyes strikes the same.
Maybe they’re related.
Her dark, rusty hair sways at her shoulder blades.
She looks like an ocean but smells like a fire.
I wonder where she’s been.
The night touched my cheeks, just cold enough to feel uncomfortable without a blanket.
We sat out on the coastal cliffs, facing the perfect moon as it hovered over the black ocean.
Pavo had managed to snuggle in between Persephone and I, having lured us by the blanket he brought. Mercury sat in front of us in his hoodie, wings folded in neatly against his back.
Pavo droned on about a scary story of his, and even though he basically ordered me to sit next to him, I thought it might be the best I’ve ever liked him. Maybe there’s just something about hearing him tell the story about how he and a friend got scared shitless by the stranger-who-might-be-a-serial-killer-guy. Even though he still managed to maintain that edge of bullshit in his voice, I found myself not caring, just simply letting myself be entertained by his descriptions of feeling scared and awaiting what was going to happen next.
I began to let my stare linger on the reflection of the moon on the ocean. The brightness swirled over the shifting waters drew my eyes in, as if the liquid version of an enchanting fire, its pattern ever growing in intricacy as it sparkled, swirled, danced. Like quicksilver shattered over obsidian.
I heard Pavo’s story ending in an anticlimactic way. His attribution to why he was still alive today.
“You guys,” I said. “Try staring at the reflection of the moon on the water. It’s amazing.”
Mercury turned around, his face barely poking out of his hoodie. “Artemis are you high?”
“No.”Fucker. “Just try it.”
“Whoa!” Persephone said. “That IS amazing–it’s almost like you can see figures dancing.”
“Right? Isn’t it ridiculous how the pattern just keeps going?” I said.
“Hippie,” Mercury said.
“Oh, shut up,” I said. I turned my eyes back to the quicksilver. Shutting him out made easy.
My eyes started to feel heavy.
“Artemis,” Pavo said. “Tell me about your faith journey.”
Instantly, I coiled tight inside. “What? My ‘faith journey’?”
“Yeah.”
“Seriously? Like…now?”
“Uh…yeah. Unless if you don’t want to talk about it?”
Why did everything suddenly feel more silent now.
“I dunno man, it’s something that’s really personal to me,” I said.
Pavo let my words roll down the cliff and into the water.
“I’m not sure if I’m ready to share about it right now,” I added.
“Hey, it’s cool,” he said.
I just wanted him to stop poking at my scabs. It burned. But I couldn’t feel mad at him, because I knew he couldn’t see them. Instead, I felt a general cloud of resentment, covering me like an ache.
Staring back at the ocean felt more hollow this time.
“Hey Pavo, it’s almost 11:30,” Mercury said. “I think we should start heading back now.”
“Sounds good,” Pavo said. He stood up, taking his blanket with him, searching the other people mingled about us. “Where’s Leo? He rode with us t–There he is. Leo, we’re gonna take off now, man.”
Leo joined us as we ambled away from the cliffs in the bright night.
Back on the even sidewalk, my eyelids started to feel heavy again. That sleep-walking sensation seeping into me like–
The sound of the car door opening punctured the air. Reminded me of the pop heard when a pickle jar is opened for the first time.
“I’ve got the hump,” Leo said. He clambered in before me.
As Mercury pulled the car onto the road, I let my resentment slip beneath my weariness. Night drives down smooth roads always induce a sense of calmness, wears down edges. The leaden awareness of gravity pulled at my forehead and my arms. Pulling further down…and I didn’t want to escape it…
When the shoulder met my cheek, it felt natural, natural as the darkness, expanding…
My eyes fluttered at the halt of the engine, Mercury killing the headlights.
I felt the scapular angles. I’m pressed against Leo.
“Erm–I’m sorry,” I said huskily, slowly lifting myself away from him. Gathered up a half-hearted urgency to somehow remove my heavy limbs from the car. I sighed out of my nose.
Leo followed, his eyes half open. He used an eyebrow to try to lift them to look at me, as he mumbled, “Goodnight.”