The other day, I was listening to an astrologer I respect give a talk about Pisces. Since Jupiter and Neptune are conjunct in Pisces at this time, it feels particularly relevant as a meaningful reflection.
What I LOVE about the deep-dive I’m doing in Astrology School is how it’s bringing together — helping me to integrate more and more — so much of my past experience and areas of expertise. My astrology teacher is an artist. She uses images as a significant portion of our curriculum. And she’s always reminding us that the most effective way to deal with the mountains of dense material we’re learning is to do so in a way that engages BOTH sides of the brain: the analytical left side and the creative right side. We have images along with all those keywords (Mars = Power, Venus = Love and Beauty, etc.) as memory aids, and she encourages us to constantly be on the lookout for more images that resonate with us, personally. As a former museum educator, this pedagogical approach is, of course, music to my ears! Or shall we say, a feast for my eyes!
So I was listening to this Pisces talk, which included various descriptive keywords such as compassionate, spiritual, healing, interconnectedness, merging into oneness, and of course, water — boundless water. Immediately, a beloved body of artwork came to mind: the sublime seascape photographs of Hiroshi Sugimoto.
I will never forget the profound impact a small exhibition of these artworks had on me years ago when I worked at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Standing in front of one, for minutes at a time — they invite meditation almost instantly upon approach — I felt transported to a place of deep calm. Whether the photograph had been made at the edge of the Arctic Ocean or the Aegean Sea didn’t matter. Time and place no longer mattered. There was only a sense of utter boundlessness that I could lose myself in.
I remember, in the midst of crazy-busy workdays/weeks/months during the run of the exhibition, I would periodically escape my windowless basement office to head up to the second floor Japanese Prints gallery for much-needed moments of respite. Given that this body of Sugimoto’s work is all about “freezing” time — he uses a large-format camera with prolonged exposure times to produce the image of a perfectly still and motionless ocean — it’s no wonder the photographs served me so well at that time in my life.
So that now, looking back, I understand — years before I had any inkling of the meaning of Jupiter and Neptune coming together in the sign of Pisces — some intuitive sense inside of me was already tuning into the healing power of Piscean energy. Pure poetry, to have it come full circle at this time!
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