In the cloudy backwash of last weekend's full moon, strange creatures are emerging from the depths. As though the supersonic blasts of sun and moon, frequencies and fuckery, keep conspiring to dissolve the barriers to necessary change.

The mad season has passed in a tumbleweed of inexplicable plot twists. By now we have all had time to catch our breath, stretch our freshly minted wings or climb shakily back to our feet, and begin to survey our adjusted ground zero. Making sense of where we find ourselves now is the only job at hand.

This guy is a walking community service announcement for the back end of this particular eclipse season and we all have Uncle Mars to thank for this. Our planet of Get Shit Done can fast turn into a war mongering trail of destruction when engaged the wrong way.

Where have you landed having been flung from the eclipse slingshot a fortnight ago?

The final act played out last night on the grandest of celestial stages, the blood moon eclipse in lovely Libra. The landscape this bright new day looks nothing like that we left behind, rewarding beautiful souls brave enough to take the leap.