This 'n' That on WOODRUFF for Thursday, April 30, 2026

The Aries stellium needs some opposition to come to life.

Apr 30, 2026

A quintessential Aries, Wernher von Braun in his NASA office with models of all the rockets he designed behind him (1965). Photo by NASA.

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DAZED. CONFUSED. We’re still recovering from the aftermath of the interminable Saturn-Neptune transit in Pisces—a three-year transit that warped our shared sense of what was factual, objective, and trustworthy. And we seem to still be lodged in the ambiguity. Dazed. Confused.

But the sky has moved on. Mercury, Mars, Saturn, and Neptune all reside in Aries now. But are we taking advantage of the elemental thrust that characterizes the sign? Aries has been the high note for months now. I mean, spring is the season of Aries. This is the ram’s kairos (an ancient Greek term for the opportune moment). So what’s the problem? The only public figure I see doing effective Aries activism is Libra mayor Zohran Mamdani.

Pop astrology does damage to Aries, with all the clichés of ‘starting afresh,’ ‘jumping ahead,’ and ‘a warrior’s courage.’ A fledgling Aries reads that and wonders why they are failing. Without context, the phrases remain trite sound bites. So it’s smart to address the puzzle, or tension, that haunts Aries.

Actually, all the fire signs (Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius) are prone to this dilemma—it’s a key theme to their particular mythology. But with Aries, who must step out of the swirling Pisces miasma—the preceding sign—it can be a fretful passage.

As I’ve written before, referencing Gurdjieff, nothing moves forward without friction. And for Aries, this is embodied in the push and pull of the past as it attempts to hijack the future. And Aries is lodged within that existential fulcrum.

In Hamlet, Shakespeare wrote for his protagonist, “Assume a virtue, if you have it not.” We need to take on, adopt—despite feeling ill-equipped—the courage that eludes us. This means acting our way forward for the sake of momentum. Fake it until we make it.

The Leo ascendant in my chart has proven this fiery stance throughout my life. Loathsome of school, I autodidacted myself through whatever fascination caught my attention. Freedom was more essential than the conditioning of school. And freedom—especially from authority figures—is another decisive condition for all the fire signs.

Over and over, my love of independence overrode my fear and doubt. And so I stuck myself into situations where I was forced to learn on my feet. To adopt the mantle of whatever I hoped to master. And, yeah, sometimes I was acting a part.

True, I had a solid introduction to astrology, but I began interpreting horoscopes way before a novice would feel comfortable with the exchange. Same with the Tarot. I did chart after chart, or spread after spread, and reaped the benefits of frequency. My god, when I worked for the old telephone psychic lines in the 90s, I was doing 40 to 50 readings a day. (Youth!)

This is a way to think about Aries, too. To emerge from the Piscean pool—alone—with one’s freedom intact. The friction, the tussle with the past, generates the heat that Aries is famous for. Forging something never before seen isn’t easy.

Somatically, Aries is the most phallic sign in the wheel. The ram is the Zodiac’s erotic flame—the force behind arousal, tumescence, and the body’s way of saying ‘yes’ to life. And that goes for all anatomies. Penises and clitorises. Before the consummation in Taurus, there’s the foreplay and rush of blood in Aries.

See if you can apply this metaphor to the area of your life that feels fallow or hung-up. Remember, without skin in the game, there’s no friction. No progress. Oh, and also—no one is coming to save you.

So, what are you doing with your ‘boner’? Is there going to be some ass-kicking in May? Who or what can you align with to apply pressure and pushback? What is today’s full Moon disclosing for you? Tell all in the comments below. Spill the tea.

WATCHING

As happens to me often, I’ll get an intuitive urge to revisit a show that I enjoyed in the past, and then I’ll mainline it within the span of two or three days. I did this with Ricky Gervais’ After Life on Netflix last week.

Talk about friction (which is why I probably was compelled to rewatch the 3-season series): Gervais’s ability to push the heaviness of grief against the levity of comedy is genius. Paraphrasing the late, great Selma Diamond: “You laugh, you cry, it becomes part of your life.”

READING

In the same way that jazz became America’s greatest art form, country music, as channeled by Tammy Wynette, became something similar. She’s a national treasure.

Although she had more vocal range than Billie Holiday, there is something similar about the instantaneous recognition of Wynette’s vocals. When I hear her voice, I’m not hearing a ‘country’ singer. She transcends rubrics. Wynette conveyed oceans of emotion while, typically, standing stock-still on stage. And when the catch in her voice emerged in a song, you really were caught. Immense vulnerability and steely strength—somehow both were present for Wynette. See, another example of friction making art.

A Taurus with a high-octane libido (and scores of marriages and divorces behind her), when Wynette sang about the pleasure of sexual surrender or the pain of heartache—you didn’t doubt the emotion.

Her 1973 single Womanhood is scandalous with how it toggles between blossoming sensuality and religious proscription. Hey Lord, she sings, “I’m a Christian, but I’m a woman too.” More friction.

All the tension that dominated her life makes Steacy Easton’s book, Why Tammy Wynette Matters, a revelation of a read. Easton’s approach is more Camille Paglia than Greil Marcus. Easton touches on each facet of Wynette’s rags-to-riches ascent—the class struggles, romantic obsessions (and infidelities), and drug addiction—while maintaining her Queen of Country title. A true Taurian force of nature.

ON SUBSTACK

I continue to enjoy astrologer Eva Sylwester’s Weekend Entertainment Guide. With more and more astro schlock infiltrating Substack’s platform, Eva sifts the gold from the crap and highlights substantial reads that are worth your time and attention. Definitely check her newsletter out.