Mars Square Neptune Is Unmissable

Mars square Neptune is nearly here, the live event you’ve been craving. Do you long for app-free living and being able to reply to things with ‘whatever? Lust-based decision-making? Therapeutic decadence? Flirting without intent but doing their birth chart anyway?

Giggling during yoga? Mood nail polish? Throwing your Eckhart Tolle book at someone and then going to the pub? Irony? Neptunian love interests? Relationships that never happen but hover enticingly at the ‘it’s a thing‘ stage forever? Immunity to regret?

If you miss any of the above, do not miss the Mars-Neptune square, live everywhere from April 9 to 11 2021. It’s Mutable! It’s Mad! It’s Maverick!

Individually, Mars in Gemini and Neptune in Pisces loathe accountability, conditional ‘whatever‘ and derivative trends. They like street fashion, fresh sounds, love as leisure,* and off-label uses of Magic.

What happens when the Neptunian fantasy high and paranormal genius is forced on stage with the highly driven and impatient Mars? Chaos & Art. Uncommodified pleasure. Pretensions and complexity that you can claim as part of the art.

Do you think Neptune is stale after nine and a half years in Pisces? So does Mars in Gemini! Who knows what this polished Trickster will throw at the Shaman on the night?!

Or will Neptune, impeccably connected in multiple realms, awe with an interstellar consciousness-raiser?

The official line-up includes the cult bands Karma Drama and Neptunian Boyfriend, as well as D.J. Trance Breaker. However, the Love Zombies may make a surprise appearance.

It’s rumoured but really, what isn’t?

*There may, in fact, be a fee involved, in which case P.O.A.

43 thoughts on “Mars Square Neptune Is Unmissable”

  1. Okay so is this show back next month with Mars in Sag?!
    Having rounded half the cosmic concert hall and now busy in centaurian party mode (augmented from the slow drain of south node blues?), is this an encore? An unplugged live? House show?

  2. Resurrection Sunday and i really do feel revived. Could be the stunning weather the summer we never really had happening in March-April.
    South Australia never had ‘lockdown’ only 2 months last March-April & escaped the rains when the heavens opened. So it’s a year since the plague reared it’s many heads like a hydra striking change in nearly all areas of life work and relationships.
    Just to wake to a sunny morn sans ridiculous daylight saving is a special bliss.
    Happy Ovaries to everyone 🙂

  3. Sooooo looking forward to some fun, creativity and lightness after being stuck in lockdown unemployed depression doom and gloom for nearly a year!! Yippee 🥳

  4. Reading Sphinx realised i can’t dance anymore but maybe i can shake these horrors off like the start of Kundalini does the shakedown. If you put a finger over one of your nostril to close off the breath and breathe like that for 5 minutes, that is the amount of breath i get ALL of the time prohibiting dancing. As someone who has said ‘breath is life & most of us don’t get enough of it’ 6.000 times before touching a body, it’s ironic that i lose mine and fully know the consequences.
    Have been dog minding an old very unwell Pitbull who had been badly neglected. He is being returned today in much better condition but know the owner won’t keep up the regime i put him on that he so needs after a lifetime of protection and loyalty given to her.My girl Daisy has been full of compassion for him, he’s her sire, to see her watch over him is beautiful and heart rendering.
    Forgive me, am usually upbeat, the person people come to for a lift of spirits, after effects of full moon mebbe?

    1. Dear Winged One, neither do I breathe properly, MCAS has deprived me of my breath too. God forbid I should attempt to close off a nostril! By dance I mean move my body 5 min and stop and start again, reminiscing of my 8 hour stints of trance dance which feel like I should be capable of along with cartwheels but alas! No longer. I love hearing about Daisy, she is clearly a loving soul bringing sweet gravity to your life. My only hope for health is a great fast, food is incarcerating me in a body I no longer recognise! Histamines fogging up my lungs you see. Wishing you health and healing and all the daisy chains of kundalini love Pegasus!

      1. My dear Sphinx as if you don’t have enough on your plate with family to watch over. Had to look up MCAS mast cell activation syndrome, that sounds super tricky. O yes our days of trance dancing the superb energy it created with the sounds vibrating in our bodies *****sigh*****. Am totally into Joe Dispenza & Bruce Lipton the last 2 years, they are amazing but when you are in a ‘crisis’ all self help seems to disappear until your breath regulates.Aah the wounded healers.Trust you are loving your new abode, Melba looked very grubby last time there just before lockdown, it really took my breath away, had to leave after 48

        1. Loving gratitude to you both, Sphinx and Pegasus, the shamanesses who hold so many of our moments here, too. May Oestre/Wenet flow and leap in with your strong loving presences xoxoxo

  5. Another of these wonderful posters that visually say more than paragraphs.
    Something’s gotta give way in my life as the stresses are almost more than an older girl can manage w/p resorting to murder most vile.
    The reason i avoid official department or places of presumed authority has been validated…they don’t know their job description or don’t care or it’s too hard or the last 12 months has been too strange on them so please don’t ask them to do what their label says they are paid to do. WHY AM I STILL IN THE CITY when i no longer work with the public i ask myself. Each day am more shocked witnessing they way people drive, the way they treat their pets and each other. Sometimes art and music isn’t enough to pacify my horror but talking to trees does calm me.
    Perhaps i’m picking up the aggressive zeitgeist emanating from the USof A even tho’ in OZ?

  6. Chaos and art basically sounds like my 20s 😂😂 – heavy on the Neptunian level chaos starring DJ Trance Breaker clones lol.

  7. Having just turned the corner on last year’s Neptunian boyfriend never happen but it’s most definitely a thing, I am putting myself under house arrest in mid April. My boundaries may be stronger but new courter on the scene (there in person in a contagion safe way, not just online! – no pandemic fuqboi excuses here) has, I have just discovered, a Mars-Neptune square in his birth chart. Should I run?

    1. An adage given to me many times was ‘never stoop & pick up nothing’ about love interests. And never run coz there is a square in someone’s chart, Lotus Love.

    2. And now I’ve discovered a tight square between my Pluto and his Venus and the misgivings strengthen lol. He is a Leo, Scorpio moon and my moon is an 8th house one. I think running is getting more appropriate..

  8. Oh dear as a person with a natal Scorpio Moon, Mars Neptune conjunction, and a natal pluto conj ascend. I have a feeling that my secret witch might be revealed This could be fun, but what should I wear?

    1. Hmm…me too, sort of, except mine is fixed, not mutable – Leo Mars square Scorp Venus-Neptune rising – which makes the whole vibe heavier but strangely more compatible in an “I’d rather die than/go blind than/kill you than divorce you” kind of way* than Gem/Pisces. *Parents were Sun/Mars in Scorp mother and Sun/Venus (plus Mars in Toro) father, so I’ve seen it working (or rather, not working, til death did they part). Also a bit worried that Mars will be opposing my Sag mercury (and loosely opposing Sag Sun) at the same time. Just as well I am too old/too much the hermit to meet potential Neptunian boyfriends these days….

  9. Wish Upon a Star

    I had a dream about a week ago where I was visiting a very old section of shops. Built in an era where there was alot of space. Felt like 18th century. Part of the old United Kingdom.

    It was eerie. There was a feeling of good honest hard work and sadness.

    Anyway I was in a shop that dedicated space to plants. Each plant artistically told a story. Each tendril was allowed to unravel. The shop keepers were dedicated plant lovers.

    Then all of a sudden the shop and district was invaded by an avalanche of fertile soil. I was at the top of the shop. The soil engulfed my lower body but just stopped short of my head and arms.

    I crawled out and got away safely.

      1. Wish Upon a Star

        I’m glad you asked because I just found out my Persephone is right on my Lilith in Aries conjunct my Saturn in Aries within 3 degrees. All 2nd house.

        A watershed moment for me. Many moons ago I had a very powerful Persephone dream. I won’t go into it but I feel the power was driven by Lilith and the Saturn message was deeply understood.

        Thanks Sphinx.

        1. That is a firmly integrated and determined combination of energies, I love it. Persephone sends her sweet power through earth, Saturn is agricultural God and I see Lilith’s independence holding hands with and balancing Persephone’s service. An avalanche of fertility seems an apt metaphor for this combination perhaps.

      2. Wish Upon a Star

        Interesting interpretation. But the most important feel in this dream was the English connection.

        I live in Australia and watched house avalanches on tv. Must have seeped into my dream. Or was it a premonition? Not sure.

    1. You yourself were replanted so you can grow 🙂 what story are you artistically telling? Are all of the Wish tendrils unfurling? There is a cosmic ‘shopkeeper’ who cares about you, too xo

  10. This is great and I am laughing because it is very true. I’m doing all right with some of the transits, but this one is tossing one major curveball because it will square my Gemin Ascendant. I’d normally say, ‘let the good times roll,’ but the Saturn in the 1h says I better be anchored and have a semblance of a plan if I don’t want to royally regret it!

  11. Funny- I did a bit of writing about my last big lucid dream and it aligns so nicely here.

    Under Full Worm Moon

    I had a dream I was going to go visit my Neptunian Ex to show him all the music I wrote for him this fall.

    There have been about 3 songs swirling around and their riffs and hooks coiling in certain memories that I’ve had since we met a lifetime ago. In that period, I could hardly make sense of myself, so I simply drew them in a sketchbook, showed him, looked at his bewildered face and then vowed I’d eventually learn how to make them with glee.

    After we broke up, they haunted me, these scrubby hieroglyphs of sound.

    Last year, I tried to put them into digital forms but they came out differently than I anticipated. Like starting an act in one set of clothes and changing midway, they became different, poppier, horns undercutting the drums. Convinced they might not exist anymore, I put them in a folder and slid them into the internet. 

    This spring though they returned as the ivy creeping across fences, and I heard them when the wind rolled over the daffodils in the park. Little notes in bamboo, tinkling sugar cherries tugging at my old self. In vain, I tried for weeks to buy a keyboard, then borrow one, but working them out physically evaded me.

    But back to this dream. 

    I had been traveling for days to find him, dressed in a yellow raincoat to my ankles and party dress. It was night, like it was always night in all my memories of Neptunian Ex. His face is highlighted through a cloud of smoke, cigarettes or something else, gasoline green light, lit up by red jukeboxes and flashlights and grey moonlight. His skin was always such a lovely tawny unspotted canvas, but mostly I saw it reflecting all pushy unnatural places in alcoholic gauze.

    Getting there was complicated, endless apartments and porches with a cold glow, yellow walls, halogen smeared streets with people smoking outside to walk through until we finally got to a huge wooden slat bungalow in Manitowoc. Inside the floors were wet with black water, and I walked on a plank from the front door to an inner chamber slathered in fake Persian rugs. The water wasn’t water though when I looked back, instead it was his glittering, shallow personal Styx, and in there I saw my face, long, translucent and laughing and a whole bunch of other people I met and had forgotten and danced with. 

    There were lamps on every surface, in various shades of candlelight, blankets on the couches and a faint dog smell. Not too many plants, not all matching dishes.

    I was a vaudevillian, a salesman, a pilgrim who had come home. World weary and worn, my hair like blonde straw and under this worm moon I felt like my skin was edged in a pale green, like a new leaf. Grass stains on my knees and I still believed that I could charm him, ask him to come out to the forest, even though his house was so tangled with a new life and I knew it was a thin stringy chance I had.

    They were having dinner, but also walking around or cleaning or watching shows or brushing pets. Was I intruding? My presence was a chord that cannot be unstruck and a shimmer went up through the walls as I realized the depth of my resonance here. I was indeed out of place in what could have been my castle.

    I saw photos that were all his new memories, treasures cheap but richly remembered and fantasies in puddles in his room. There was a woman there, wary of me and my green hue, my jingling change from around the world, my parted lips breathless dewy, shiny spew of stories real, remembered and superimposed. 

    Okay, what’s the story morning glory, he said in just the way his voice should be, but he stayed Parked in a chair, placed like a pillow there, safe, but kind, but soft, but pliant Pisces. Like he had once wanted to be kneaded, worked over by me, but now he was staying put. I had always had this feeling though, like my ambitions met no edges with him, just rattled a few things inside. 

    I had come to offer something, something so important I believed, but a party had started, and he didn’t want my gifts, there were others, and my rosy face and fancy clothes didn’t match the neighborhood. While he flitted about entertaining everyone else, his face was a mixture of pity and a pale shade of regret every time our faces aligned: I had come back too late. It wasn’t the right time anymore. Instead of a welcome, I got forgiven, for everything, and probably things I don’t even understand which infuriated me because I wanted to reciprocate.

    But wait, I started to cry, I still have songs for you, and he briefly paused, just for a second in between children and snacks and music and mustaches, I will sing for you, I will write for you I will help you! Listen to this! I pulled out feathers and papers and pencils and stamps. 

    Sadly, he began to walk away. 

    The song stayed Stuck and when I finally pulled it out, it was just old flower petals in my backpack, fluttering to the floor. 

    Miserable, I walked out across the Styx again to lay on the lawn and look at the stars. 

    I’m sorry, I said to the trees. 
    We know, his voice said.

    I felt the last of that stringy golden thread slip into the ground, the worm moon, decomposing me into a new sound.

  12. Would dance alll night long to DJ Trance Breaker! Might have to turn the speakers up and do a home rave. My Polished Trickster Rising will out somehow or another. Thank you for this patented blip of a madness Square on my April radar.

  13. I can’t fuqing wait!!

    The current Aries vibe is so strident & Emperor-ish & I’m really craving a return to “chill out, we’re in a panny” Mars/Neptune style of irreverence…

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