The USA Election 2020 -Astrology Forecast as Tweeted transit by transit.

November 15, 2020

From the beginning of September 2020 until 14 November 2020 I tweeted a number of predictions concerning the USA Election 2020.

If you are interested in how I view the art of astrology just click here. If not just read on 🙂

My Twitter handle is @dodona777

I thought that the simplest way to forecast a result was to look at the inner “weather” of Donald Trump. I believe that astrology depicts the emotional weather of an individual & the general emotional weather of a country. So, if Trump is in a state of dismay & fear, a state of anxiety & stress then this may point to a loss. If, on the other hand the emotional weather within Trump looks happy & confident then this may point to a win.

I sent out the various transit positions of the planets over Trump’s natal chart as we progressed towards the Election date 3 November and a couple of weeks beyond.

The above chart has Donald Trump at the centre and the outer circle is the chart of the USA Election, 2020. The planets of 3 November, 2020 make angles to the planets of Donald Trump’s natal chart as they progress in their own orbits. It is these planets in transition over the natal chart which are called transits.

I sent the Key Dates below as a tweet. What follows after the Key Dates are the tweets I sent, individually as time moved on. The last two entries I have also sent but since this post is being written on 15 November we do not know the outcome.

These are the readings of the transits I tweeted on the date that the transit was exact.

25 September, 2020 : Uranus Square Trump’s Pluto

This transit will be influencing Trump until past the election on 3 Nov.

This is an incredibly intense time for #Trump. He doesn’t show it but he feels very vulnerable & is afraid of losing everything he has built up in his life. This transit occurs only twice in the 84 year cycle of Uranus & it points to a radical disrutive change in our lives.

Tense & stressful situations which Trump handled in the past will now become unbearable. Events will occur which will be outside of his control even though there were warning signs which he ignored. The more he ignored the signs of impending change the more volatile this period will be.

5 October, 2020 : Mars Square Trump’s Saturn

Trump will feel frustrated and angry because he is blocked in doing what he wants. He will want to smash something blocked actions lead to the desire to smash something. He needs patience and attention to detail to prevent accidents and mistakes. Will he have it?

17 October, 2020 : Uranus Conjunct Trump’s Midheaven

This transit occurs only once in each 84-year cycle of Uranus.

During this time Trump’s reputation (Midheaven is the point in horoscope which designates reputation & career) before the world will go through sudden changes, especially in the way he has handled being POTUS. It is obvious to everyone that the key duty of protecting US citizens lives from ANY nation wide danger he has failed. This danger is Covid19. He shows signs of bravado but these may be the result of super steroids & other drugs.

He & his cult followers scream for FREEDOM which is a key component of the symbolic work of Uranus. They rebel against the restrictions of the MASK & social distancing. They want greater freedom & this urge is again another feature of Uranus. However, this is a fake rebellion because it has nothing to do with their survival but everything to do with an outdated & unrealistic perspective of their lives. They cannot be free the way they were because they will get infected by Covid19. Trumpkins do not accept this. So, Trump’s opposition & rebellion (Uranus) against Science & Medicine will eventually be his & his followers’ downfall.

Uranus influence on Trump’s Midheaven started a while back but on 17 October it is exact. This means that his tower of strength is beginning to crumble.

27 October, 2020 : Mars Opposition Jupiter

Trump will demonstrate an even more foolish overconfidence & boorish, insensitive, crass behaviour which could undo any improvement in his image which he hoped would be present by now. He will commit more than he can deliver and people will see this.

30 October, 2020 :

Jupiter quincunx Trump’s North Node

Trump will be assessing his affiliations with the Republican Party & other groups with a view of moving on to the next phase of his life. He will be adjusting his expecations & letting go of his second term as #POTUS. This doesn’t mean he will let us know he’s doing this but we may witness some discomfort, something lacking in his normal presenation of his confident self.

North Node opposite Trump’s Moon

There will be a predominance of female persons around him & he will have difficulty in adapting to others. This is connected with obligatory community participation. He will feel emotional discomfort.

Chiron opposite Trump’s Neptune

His emotions will be stirred up as he will be forced to slow down. Perhaps his encounter with Covid19 is starting to play havoc with his energy & if he tries to escape these secondary effects he will become more confused and despairing.

Date of Election 3 November, 2020

4 November, 2020 : Uranus Conjunct Midheaven

As said earlier this transit occurs only once in each 84-year cycle of Uranus.

This aspect is more intense now and it shows major frustration and disruption as the unexpected happens to Trump’s delusion of winning.

From this day onwards Trump will no longer be POTUS & this will disorient him big time because he cannot believe he is a loser.

18 November, 2020 : Jupiter Opposition Saturn

The above date is when this transit becomes exact but it will be influencing his life from now & for about 2 weeks after that date. The 18 November will be the culmination.

This is one of the most difficult transits of Jupiter because of the extreme differences that exist between the energies of these two planets. Jupiter represents expansion and Saturn represents limitation, and Trump may feel at times that he is undergoing both simultaneously.

His judgement is not necessarily good at this time, and he must be extremely careful when he’s making important decisions. Trump will vacillate between feeling extremely optimistic and feeling extremely cautious.

He will feel torn between his desire for total control and the opportunity to set up and hold on to a new direction that is safe and predictable. He will feel like quitting and “going back to the drawing board” without the need to look into himself & take responsibility of past mistakes & their repercussions.

He will feel restless and driven to make changes in his life because he has been forced to now that he is no longer President. He should be careful in pursuing a new career as a media mogul because he hasn’t got the money even if he thinks he can con a loan. He could become entangled in red tape & legal difficulties. With this transit financial setbacks are common, as well as disagreements with friends,partners and business associates.

19 December, 2020 : Pluto Opposition Saturn

By now Trump’s troubles will be reaching peak time. He will be feeling tired, very anxious and despondent. In fact it will all seem too hard for him. The problems & issues he has to deal with seem to be piling up faster than he can deal with them.

Others expectations on him are getting to feel too much & all the authorities & powers he thinks are being unreasonably rigid in their approach to him and his needs.

For his mental health he needs to resign and to admit that Biden has won.

I sent the following tweet as the final one in this series concerning the USA 2020 Election.

Prepare for a New Beginning

The Jupiter –Saturn Conjunction at 0° Aquarius, 21 December, 2020

I see the landslide win for Jacinda Ardern,Labor in NZ as a harbinger of change which will be confirmed on a global scale if there is a landslide win for Joe Biden, Democrats USA.

Corona Virus is like an enzyme acting as a catalyst bringing about fundamental change to our institutions & politics. It has made us realise that we are an “us”, that the neolib ideology Thatcher spouted in the 1980’s that there is no such thing as society is a lie. The transformational effect of Covid19 can also be seen as “face” of the Saturn/Pluto conjunction that has been in effect during 2020.

A new conjunction is going to take place on December 21, 2020. It is the Jupiter/Saturn conjunction at the beginning of Aquarius. This will seed a new beginning, a new paradigm of thought, politics & institutions. There will be a stronger focus on progress, culture, science & technological innovation. Covid19 shows us we need to work together to survive the pandemic. It is also a preparation for the greater work to be done to address Climate Change.

The Jupiter/Saturn conjunction in the sign of Aquarius shows that the great work needed to take on Climate Change will happen. The global consciousness which manifests in a very real way through the Internet will be able to facilitate the necessary global efforts to address Climate Change.

Yes, this is an optimistic outlook as it promises a rebirth where new solutions, new technologies & a global consciousness with which to manifest the necessary change. This year, 2020, has been intense with striking new challenges and changes which I consider to be transformational. 2020 has prepared us so that we are ready for the new world and the global emancipation which will unfold.

It will not happen overnight but it will gradually blossom like a flower over the following months and years.


A Special Locket/Talisman – an excerpt from a story I’m writing…

October 11, 2020

My name Stavros means Cross in Greek. So, this Philakto (Φυλαχτο) which means “talisman” carries another layer of meaning for me. This talisman has appeared and disappeared in my life a number of times. Maybe it was an unconscious forgetfulness as to where I placed it but whatever reason I may not see it for some years. When it appears it’s always at a time when I need some connection with something more than the rational world can provide me. Well, this talisman came into my hands just the other day and now I’m wearing it around my neck .

The excerpt below comes from a story that’s “faction” ie based on my travels through Australia when I was younger and intensely searching for Truth. I believed that the Road & the synchronicity of events that happen travelling around with hardly any money would reveal to me the deeper pattern behind the chaos of my life. Did it? Well, read my book when I finish it 🙂


Chinatown, Honiara, Solomon Islands before the 2006 Fires.

October 5, 2020

We went on an incredible journey to Nauru in 2004 to bring hope to the refugees imprisoned on Nauru. On the way there we were warned that the Australian Government may play dirty and get someone to contaminate our fuel so it was best not to go to Honiara to get supplies. Honiara is the capital of the Solomon Islands. So we didn’t go there, we went to Santa Cruz, the most isolated island of the Solomons on the way to Nauru.

On our return journey to Australia it was safe to go via Honiara and this was when we discovered the city’s Chinatown. If you want to know about the history of the Chinese merchants in Honiara just click here.

In 2006 there were major riots which destroyed 90% of Chinatown. The photos below are just some that I took when we visited in 2004. Someone on Twitter was grateful that I shared a couple of these photos because it brought back many wonderful memories they had of Chinatown.

So, the first photo is of the fires in 2006.

The rest of the photos of Chinatown, Honiara I took in 2004.


Around the house and our neighbourhood during Coronavirus.

September 16, 2020

We’ve been staying home most of the time during this Pandemic. So, I thought I’d share some photos taken from our home and around our neighbourhood. Nothing special – just some shots of our backyard, some flowers, a lizard, a couple of views from nearby, some moments of light shared. By the way, I used my phone camera for all these shots.

This is a part of an earlier post in this blog – a collection of glass https://dodona777.wordpress.com/2013/01/03/light-and-glass-pictures-from-home/

Flood waters receding near my home 26 March 2021.
A beautiful galaxy seen through the Hubble telescope. This is around our galactic neighbourhood.


My life’s a Tibetan sand painting

August 5, 2020

Today I went to hospital with my son who is suffering all sorts of ailments.  I sat outside on a bench feeling the cold wind on my face and wrote this while waiting for him.

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My life’s a Tibetan sand painting. All the patterns and links between people, places & events will one day be blown away with death’s sigh.

I’ve laid hexagrams over moments of uncertainty. I’ve sought algebraic calibrations of life’s hieroglyphic events with astrology. I found grains of sand, more than this, projections of need for meaning onto events. Are events in my life just random flotsam?

Are the same events iron filings gathering around an unknown magnetic north? I think, I am, I feel, I need, I want, I hunger, I thirst, I hurt, I see – I am human. My life must have some meaning.

Must? Does it?

Tibetan Sand Painting

Meditation. Tibetan sand painting . Traditionally most sand mandalas are deconstructed shortly after their completion. This is done as a metaphor of the impermanence of life. The sands are swept up and placed in an urn; to fulfill the function of healing, half is distributed to the audience at the closing ceremony, while the remainder is carried to a nearby body of water, where it is deposited. The waters then carry the healing blessing to the ocean, and from there it spreads throughout the world.

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Some patterns laid over my life

Astromusings

Time Body

An Astrological Turning

True Beginnings of the Flotillas of Hope

Symbols

An Experiment with the I Ching and Astrology

 

 

 


Think Globally, Act Locally

January 31, 2020

People have asked whether there is an “archive” of the various human rights actions which I’ve been involved in over the years. I have recorded some of these on this blog but I think one page which takes you to these stories may be useful.

I am aware that there are many people who have done some incredible work supporting social justice and human rights but no one knows about these. Many people across the world do think globally and act locally but we don’t hear about it. One reason is that mainstream media quite often does not tell or record these actions and we find these local actions don’t even make a footnote in a local history book, let alone in a “big” history book.

So, I’ve written about some of our local actions just so people do know about them.

2020 – what a time to be an activist! I can’t help but reimagine some of the stuff we did before Social Media, before Go Fund Me, drone photography. Maybe, the Flotillas of Hope could have raised so much money we could have chartered some boats?  We wouldn’t have needed a giant Kite with a camera to film the refugees in Woomera. A drone would have done the job magnificently.

Anyway, there’s lots of opportunities and means to fight for social justice today with the technology available to all of us.

What’s our local area? Newcastle, in the Hunter Valley, NSW, Australia.

Newcastle map Aust

Newcastle, Australia

I am listing these local actions in chronological order with a short description.

Cultural Stomp – Cultures in Action 

The Cultural Stomp had its birth in 1997 when Pauline Hanson launched her One Nation Party in Newcastle. We decided that she wasn’t going to launch it without hearing what we in the Hunter felt about it. We formed a group we called Cultures in Action and every year since 1997 for ten years Newcastle celebrated its cultural diversity in Civic Park.

Woomera Detention Centre – Good Friday, 2002 –  HOPE Caravan

Refugees and Asylum Seekers held a hunger strike in this detention centre stuck in the South Australian desert. Some people in Melbourne decided to organise a Festival of Freedoms at the Woomera Detention Centre. Hunter Organisation for Peace & Equity joined them and we became a Caravan, a HOPE Caravan.

Welcome Town for Refugees – 2002 – Newcastle Action for Refugee Rights

With all the racist crap pushed by the Liberal National Party we thought that Newcastle should become a Welcome Town for Refugees. For those not in Australia, the conservative right wing party which aligns itself more with the USA Republican Party & UK Tories is called the “Liberal” Party. Yes, one couldn’t get a more Orwellian name for a political party than that.

Baxter Detention Centre – 2003 – HOPE Caravan

This was another detention centre stuck in the desert. HOPE Caravan, along with many others from around Australia decided to pay it a visit.

Flotillas of Hope – World Refugee Day – 2004 – HOPE Caravan

While we talked about the possibility of visiting the most isolated gulag in the world at Nauru most thought it was an impossible dream. But we visited the island.

Flotillas of Hope – Another Aspect.

The whole project from its inception to the actual journey exhibited much more than just a sailing trip.

 

 

 

 


Swirls Around In My Head

January 23, 2020

Swirling around in my head are many different cuts and swipes of people, events, encounters and paper scrawls. It’s a whirly whirly spinning around in my skull. I’m tired and yet I feel it’s important I record at least one or two thoughts.

What I feel is a sense of nostalgia.

Not for a particular time or place. No, for a state of mind. Sure there is peace, there is balance but somehow there is a lack of authenticity. It is hard to put my finger on it but it has to do with my sense of self. Now even this last sentence lacks authenticity. At least I am aware of it, I tell myself. But this awareness can also stifle expression – for if expression is rooted in a sense of self, feeling inauthentic, feeling untrue can even stifle an inauthentic voice.

whirly whirly small

So what is the point? Is it true that if awareness arises then the inauthentic will disappear and authenticity will dawn? Sounds logical doesn’t it? Then these thoughts arise, “What if when the inauthentic, the lie disappears and there is nothing! Nothingness! The great void made whole in my skull.” But even this fear is not a real one.

I am a man that has a puppet for a body and strings for a mind. The big question for me is, who is pulling the strings?

This question is full of hope because it brings into view the unseen, the unknown. You know as well as I do that there are no real strings and puppet parts… you know that it’s only a metaphor.

What’s the nature of this otherness that the metaphor alludes to?

I don’t know. So, now, swirling around in my head is this question.


The Curve of My Heart’s Desire

January 22, 2020

My mother hassles me in her dotage to go to church, to confess my sins, take holy communion and to kiss the priest’s hand. I can’t tell her that I see the priesthood as a costume prop of divinity wrapped around men. It’s not just the presumption of priesthood that grates but also the arrogance radiating off the white dog collar.

priest dog collar

“Matthew 7:1-2 Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.”

How far do I stray from this advice when I’m confronted by the Church? The whole edifice from its theology to its soteriology and its masonry is riddled with presumption and arrogance. Why must the source of Divine Power and Love be subject to franchise agreements? I cannot believe the ineffable manoeuvres like a lawyer. Is the priest a broker dealing in soul futures? With Wall St brokers, if you’re lucky, you may gain something. The Church provides words that haven’t been digested & transmuted into gold wisdom.

Is this to say that the Divine, the Miraculous, the Living Unknown do not exist? No. It only means that a systemic structure such as a Church cannot be the unpredictable, ineffable symbol of the Real. Now this engenders a whole host of issues of which the question “What is Real?” is at the centre. I don’t know the answer. I do know that the systemisers pretend to know.

What of confession? There’s something so essential, so oneself that hesitates to confess to another man one’s “sins”. The Greek word for “sin” is harmatia which means “missing the mark”. The assumption here is that both the priest and the confessor have agreed on what is sin. Even if they do agree as to what constitutes sin, it still sucks to confess these sins to another person. If it is true that God is not only transcendent but also imminent it follows that all failings and sins are already known to Him. The argument goes that when one confesses one is not confessing to the priest but rather through the priest to God. In other words the priest is an intermediary, a flesh & blood telephone. The priest also has the power to decide what, if any, penance is required. If you pay now you won’t have to worry about the interest rate in the after life. As a consequence, merely by humbling yourself to the intermediary, the priest, you will gain peace of mind and soul.

Really?

Do I need the responsibility of my life to rest on the decisions of a church man? What if the after life, the here after is THIS LIFE again? Yes, instead of a Ground Hog Day – a Ground Hog Life. Does it mean I will be forever doomed to pay lip service to a caricature of divinity just so I secure a respectable soul? Maybe there are souls that don’t fit the respectable mould. This does not mean they are not chosen by God. It only means that they may have another calling.

tree of knowledge

It goes deeper than this, it goes to the curve of one’s heart desire.

In me there resides the need to know, to understand. In me this desire to know who I am, what is my place in the universe and why I am here has directed the shape of my life. This desire has taken me to the edge of sanity where flying saucer landing pads in a commune’s backyard took the place of Hills Hoists. This desire has also turned my mind to the study of numbers, symbols, astrology, magic and divination – all of the mantic arts. The curve of my heart’s desire turns away from dogma & belief to the ever present mystery of simple life. This curvature reveals along its edge another calling that has nothing to do with any church or institution.

The desire to know was also probably Adam & Eve’s original sin. We all know what happened to them when they took a bite of the Apple.

Yes, I am inflicted because I seek knowledge of the Divine and I don’t want church men hovering around the curve of my heart’s desire.

apple

A Ragman in a Colony of Nudists

November 28, 2019

Here I am, locked in isolation, or so it seems. My isolation is more akin to a ragman in a colony of nudists. If I should remove patchwork labels from my body and forehead I’m afraid I couldn’t bear the darts of recognition. What’s there to recognise? I ask myself almost every second day. The days between I try to remember the question. When I remember, it always begins with the hissing of brain static. It’s not a fit, more like an unfit – a dislodging, a space to hear the static.

So, that’s how it was! Nobody had ever told me how we got here. With the brain static easing, I can feel my family roots and somehow they don’t belong here. I understand now how my ancestors had crossed the Great Ocean and arrived here. That sounds pretty plausible, but there is a problem. Nobody here – not the priest, the teacher, the doctor, the scientist, the politician, the philosopher, the butcher, the baker and the USB stick maker believes there is such a place – beyond the Ocean. This is only half of the problem. The other is that nobody here believes anyone had come from anywhere before. They all believe that they have always been here, from the time of protozoa to the time of silicon cells. Indeed, the prevailing thought of this country is Always Here and Now. I suppose it’s simple logic really, when you consider that if there is no other place than here then how could anybody come from elsewhere. Where is the elsewhere? If you can’t orient this place called elsewhere with a compass, then it can’t exist.

Where is this other place? My old friends used to ask me this at all hours of the night. I believe that they were trying to bring me back to my senses, or should I say back to their senses. They warned me that if I continued on this path I’d discover madness. As if I have any choice in it. I told them, there must be something more significant than the rest of experience otherwise my life is just one dimensional… it lacks relief, the bumps that tell you it’s solid and not just paper. So, what was more significant than anything else in my sphere of attention? So, what’s the use of significance? Does having a meaning make bread taste any better? Would the coffee be better if it was drunk by a saint rather than a monkey? What if I didn’t have any bread or coffee, does meaning, significance make starvation any better?

Whatever it is, I’m heading home – wherever it is. It is difficult to speak freely about this other place because every statement about it rocks the foundation logic of this continent. From the admission of this other place, comes other admissions – through the backdoor, so to speak. These include that which was black is now white, and that the inner is the outer. Indeed, a complete reversal of one’s beliefs. In a world where nothing else exists but itself, the entrance of another place, another world obliterates it.

I know now, my ancestors lived on an island that was destroyed aeons ago. Only a few of the islanders survived the complete submersion. They were the fishermen who being far enough away were not sucked under with their island. The survivors made their way across the ocean waiting for a fortunate wind. Fortunate because without it they’d remain still in the Great Ocean without a home. With a wind they may strike some land, anywhere. They didn’t know where they were headed, only that they were alive and hoping to land somewhere.

Forty days and nights in the wilderness. Forty days and nights it takes for the quickening of a full human form in a womb. Forty days and nights it takes an Orthodox soul to clear up its unfinished business here before it finally leaves its body to become dust. For forty days and nights they rowed, they prayed and thanked the fortunate wind.

The arc of coincidence stretched across angels’ wings. Priests turn their heads to Jerusalem while the fishermen turned with the ocean wind. A fisherman’s ambition is as large as the ocean. When he scans the reddening horizon sometimes he perceives a rhythm of the waves and the pulse of red dwindling in the sunset. He throws away the concerns that like tombstones hang over memories.

And now, here I am, locked in isolation, or so it seems. Goggles won’t protect your vision here, only grace and prayer can.


My Table of Memories

September 17, 2019
 
Let me tell you a story about the table I cobbled together back in the day. It ain’t no fancy affair, just a slab of wood perched on some logs, a DIY masterpiece. This table, my friends, is where the cosmic dance of star matter goes down—or so I hope. Memories cling to it like a vibrant aura, living entities harmonizing in a psychedelic symphony. It feels like I have some unfinished business with these memories, like a cosmic debt hanging over my head.
 
 
 
What I love about this table is that it’s a mishmash of recycled goods, a Frankenstein creation of sorts. The top, a gift; the legs, scavenged from a demolition yard; and the dowling, an old broom handle. Nothing’s square, and if those logs weren’t giants, the whole table would probably collapse. It’s structurally unsound but remains steady ’cause of what it’s made of—kinda like yours truly, I reckon. There’s a certain charm in being recycled, you know?
 
 
 
The hands that carried this table top to my home left more than just fingerprints—they left a piece of themselves. Tin Sheds, Sydney Uni, where I taught the Earthworks Poster Collective & Architecture Students who built and designed the Alternative House in the fine art of Tai Chi—it’s all etched in my soul. Back in the 1970s, the Tin Sheds were real tin sheds, none of that fancy gallery facade it’s become. Take a peek for yourself, it’s in the link.

That’s me up front on the grounds of The Tin Sheds Gallery, Sydney University

 
Now, picture this: the 1970s, Architecture Faculty cleaning house, tossing out tables. My students, clued in to my desperate need for a desk, volunteered to haul a reject tabletop to my place. We didn’t own a car, and my home was a stone’s throw away. Can you believe that our past exploits are just wisps of smoke, fading memories rising from chimney tops of NOW? Those friends and their hands, like the bones of my body—here now, that will be buried in the future. Life’s an Ourobouros, where the first kick in the womb and the final exhale at death share the same moment. P D Ouspensky’s idea of Eternal Recurrence , now that’s an idea I find strangely comforting.
 
The legs for this table were born soon after the tabletop landed in my possession, back when I was diving into literature and psychology doing an Arts degree. The legs were my ticket to this recycled universe I was creating. But that’s not the end of the saga, my friends. After completing the table, I unearthed a forgotten set of icons from my Greek Orthodox Sunday School days. Football-card-sized prints, survivors of the ages, depicting the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
 
In the throes of my Dharma Bum thing, hitchhiking across Australia, these icons were my talismans, nestled amidst the pages of the I Ching — the Book of Changes—in my backpack.
Paired with my filakto – my cross talisman, pinned inside my shirt, they shielded me during my hitchhiking journey across Australia. It seems fitting they tagged along on my intellectual odyssey and trek through a Humanities degree.
 
 
 
Glued to the table in a cross-like constellation, Resurrection at the center, Crucifixion to the South, Transfiguration to the North, Birth to the East, and Last Supper to the West. It was my compass, my North Star. I varnished the whole thing, making the icons one with the wood. The Cross of Events amidst the chaos of my table—a border beyond death etched into the very grain.
 
Academic textbooks rested and unfurled on these icon-clad surfaces. When uncertain about life’s crazy directions, I’d throw a hexagram, letting the Book of Changes whisper its cosmic wisdom. This time when uncertain about intellectual directions the coins danced on these icons instead of road dust.
Resurrection

I Ching Hexagrams

I Ching Hexagrams

 
Now, let me tell you about a friend named Colin Little, a memory that winks at me from the ghost of my table. Check out this article in Eye Magazine > Political clout: Australian posters  http://www.eyemagazine.com/feature/article/political-clout-australian-posters.
 
The table’s long gone, but the memory lingers. Colin, asked me to teach him and his crew the ways of Tai Chi. Colin knew I was no grandmaster but when you’re friends and when you’re all beginners with minds wide open, who needs to be a master? We were Tai Chi novices, finding Zen in the chaos. Colin left the planet in 1982, but his spirit still kicks it in the tales of the Tin Sheds and the Earthworks Poster Collective.
 
So here’s to the table that birthed cosmic symphonies, housed cosmic deities, and echoed the cosmic journey of a ragtag gang of seekers. It’s gone now, a mere whisper in the winds of time, but the stories, wow, the stories live on.
 
Here’s some work he did at the Tin Sheds as part of the Earthworks Poster Collective:

Earthworks Poster Collective by Colin Little, “Bo Diddley SRCEarthworks Poster Collective by Colin Little “Lenin Conference on Radical Economics

Here’s a classic Earthworks Collective Poster by Chips Mackinolty – Land Rights Dance

Earthworks Collective Poster by Chips Mackinolty – Land Rights Dance