Though Venus may have been out of sight since she slipped back across the border into Pisces, her retrograde influence has been working steadily below ground. In the darkest recesses of our hearts and its deepest hidden chambers, tendrils like acrid smoke seeping into the locked boxes stacked behind the thumping.

We make our way through the far end of the zodiac as if underwater. The afterglow of eclipse and the undertow of retrograde combine as an odd surrealism permeates the landscape. The place just before transition is oddly still. Time shimmers elastic.

We make our way through the far end of the zodiac as if underwater. The afterglow of eclipse and the undertow of retrograde combine as an odd surrealism permeates the landscape.

It is indeed wild in these streets shimmering with the lick and spittle of this mad season. Pisces eclipse season demands you surrender to its cunning craft, no small matter for a world overstuffed with recovering control freaks. The virgin's eclipse only offers rebirth to those willing to pay its price themselves.

At the moon chime, sleep gave way to dreaming. Last night I found myself wandering back through time. Having laid my body down, my soul slipped out to set sail on the old currents that still sometimes lap at my shore.

An incendiary dark moon descends over us all now, its pull to rest and recalibrate at odds with broiling revolution. If you needed an omen for the eclipse season incoming, the days between now and the Pisces new moon will likely deliver it. Try not to baulk when it lands like a bomb, like a blast of past angst, or dripping in blood. The gloves have actually always been off.

This week begins in the hazy daze of Neptunia, its surreal half light obscuring and conjuring by design. Its been a wild weird wired weekend on planet rebirth. Emerging from the fray like a blessed slingshot, Mars finally concludes his months long hamstrung retrograde in Cancer. Though this will not instantly dry up all the tears nor quell the shouting, it does offer significant hope for fresh resolution and resolve on the way.

This weekend tells a tale of two cities, distinct in form and function, beholden only to their sphere of influence. You probably already know which is having its way with you and all in your sightlines by the stark difference in experience.

As Aquaria's wake leaves a trail of stars for us all to collect later, Pisces season rushes in to drag us over its falls. This year delivering inexorable evolution through eclipse and retrograde, threshold and dissolution, its riptides already pulling us in. The ides of March have the old world in their thrall already as its extinction lip curls and snarls.

We are arriving to the edge of the world, the lashing tail end of the zodiac and its strange churning frequencies. Telepathing its fathomless currents, an oceanic flood of feelings clouding all but the present. It is hard to focus and easy to get carried away.

Venus swept into Pisces by the new moon's tides, its waters embracing the queen of stars like a lover returning. After her torrid Aquarian excursion with her lover Mars, Lady Love swans deeper into her pleasure state. Swollen with the magic of Neptune, rampant revolution cleaves to form fresh union with the fathomless psychospiritual currents that underpin it.

Dark moon, thy name is dissolution as we make our way through the liquidity of the far end of the zodiac. Cut off from the cult of knowing and planning by design. Released from the strict safety of hospital corners and known quantities. Floating on a sea of unlimited potential whose murky depths will demand a different kind of discipline.

Swimming deeply through the mythical mutable realms of revolution and we are being relentlessly dazzled by the skies of the farthest reaches. Auroras have been blazing across a wide band from both poles, further afield since Pisces arrived as prelude to eclipse season.

The rampant revolutionising of life and love paired with the gentle oblivion of the far end of the zodiac demands mutiplicity but it is a slippery sucker to hold. Its pretty fleeting fish swim in two different directions. Hope defies certain death. Grief mingles with joy in brackish water. The future is a promised land just over a border we can feel but can't see.

Depth charge, anyone? Pisces season arrives now, inconveniently ensconced between the Aquarian search party on the hunt for something truer and Aries' cauterising of the old world in service of the future. Resilience building in the grift betwixt all the 'cides colliding and oblivion. The ever present threat of delusion and subtefuge disturbing what once passed for peace.

In the place just before transition, when emergence beckons and you can hear the call of the next horizon flickering beyond the threshold, the temptation is to leap. To bolt towards what comes next, trading the present for the future in a whirling swirling haste.

Neptune's fathomless depths draw mighty forces towards the falls at the end of the waterworld. A messy tangle of planets caught in the drag net and tumbling over one another, sometimes swimming in an enchanted synchronicity and other times gasping for air.

We make our way through the far end of the zodiac as if underwater. An odd surrealism permeates the landscape. We are between beginnings and endings, then and the next now. Things are hazy, lines are blurred slack. Worlds are overlapping, mingling in brackish corners.