She was young than me but she was glamorous and mysterious. She had a Spanish name (but otherwise was a very normal South African just like all of us). She also had very long straight black hair which fell across her face. One Friday afternoon a whole lot of us left work early and headed to the local pub for chicken burgers and chips under the big tree in the pub’s back garden. Angie began to talk about astrology and it became evident she was something of an amateur astrologer. Other than knowing I’m a Gemini and occasionally checking out the newspaper horoscopes to confirm their uselessness, I had very little knowledge of astrology. But Angie knew a lot — rising signs, houses, etc etc. I gave in and let her do her magic on me with what she knew. I think I was the only one present who actually knew their time of birth — 7am on a Thursday morning which I had been told as a small child and never forgotten. So I became the test subject. Among the things I learnt were that I had lots and lots of air (Gemini with Gemini rising) and earth in my chart (some Taurus there, explains a lot). But a lack of fire and water. As she moved on to another person I answered the unanswered question I’d carried for a very long time: the reason why you can’t — like a labrador — walk past a pool or pond or dam or lake without wanting to get it — all of you plus your head — in because you’re so hopelessly dry as a fate. The water calls to the dryness.
And that was the explanation for about ten years.
But then I had another encounter with another someone mysterious. She also had long hair which she was growing out, so from waist to shoulder it was bright orange, from shoulder to root, grey. This was an encounter arising out of curiosity; this person entered the home I was a guest in, clapped eyes on me and demanded I give her my details. She then had the owner of the house scurrying for a laptop so that she could cast my chart. But what I discovered from this professional of an astrologer was that I was awash in water — my 12th house (which deals with the unconscious) was in Pisces, the twin fish. What the amateur couldn’t tell me was that: like was calling to like.
Writing Across Genres 