Recently, an artist friend gave me a delightful, whimsical painting that I immediately hung in a place of honor, above the living room fireplace. But the painting’s colors are so rich and exciting that, by contrast, they transformed the pale, yellow walls of my living room from tastefully neutral to washed-out and boring.
I liked the colors in the painting much more than the color on my walls, so I decided to adapt the room to fit the painting. I began with the wall behind the fireplace, painting it deep, bright red. The result was gorgeous; it practically glows. And it shows off the painting to perfection… but it made the other drab, yellow walls look even more insipid. So, an adjoining wall got a coat of warm khaki – a dramatic, but pleasing contrast with the red wall.
You can probably see where this is going. Now, of course, the other two walls look even blander. So tomorrow, I’m off to the paint store for more colors – perhaps a pale aubergine, a light straw-colored gold. The final effect may very well turn out to be a bit too much like the Partridge Family’s gaudy, multi-colored bus; but for now, I find the contrasting colors unexpectedly harmonious. I don’t have my friend’s talent for drawing, but I’m enjoying the artistic challenge of transforming the room one color at a time, carefully balancing one tone against the next. It’s a bit like creating a painting of my own.
The artistry associated with Libra, the sign highlighted by this New Moon, is a reflection of Libra’s genius for combining one element with its natural complement. Libra, with its inherent sense of cosmic balance, delights in bringing together the right mix of people for a stimulating dinner party, two single friends who might find each other interesting, or yes, an interesting selection of paint colors for a room. We tend to imagine that such artistry is a mysterious talent granted to some and not to others, a cosmic gift that can never be truly taught or learned. But is this true? After all, Libra is an air sign, more analytical than instinctual. Surely the gift of gracious living is available to all of us who are willing to learn.
In fact, Libra’s artistry seems surprisingly akin to math: each requires that we know what must be added or subtracted to get the right result. The mathematics of Libra guides the writer who carefully deletes a turn of phrase she dearly loves, not (as Virgo might) because it is thematically inconsistent or grammatically awkward, but because it simply doesn’t harmonize with the rest of the piece. It is present in the hostess who recognizes that a gregarious guest of honor is an exotic flower, one that finds its complement in fellow guests who are generous in their praise, yet interesting enough in their own right that their praise is worth having. Libra even lives and breathes in the consummate salesman who is able to match a product with the buyer by identifying some intangible common ground between them. Somewhere in your chart, Libra is present; and somewhere in your chart, you are an artist.
The red wall in your living room.
Look to the house of your chart that contains Libra. This house describes an area of your life where a single focal point has exerted itself as boldly and incongruously as the red wall in my living room. The rest of your life has been thrown out of balance by this concentration of energy, and at this New Moon, the energy of Libra is rushing in to restore equilibrium with a contrasting point of view. Since the New Moon/eclipse point makes a square to Saturn, it may not be a message you’re particularly ready to hear. Nevertheless, like advice from a bossy older sister, it may be the one message that can help you restore your balance.
Complementary colors
What needs to be added or subtracted to make your inner landscape more pleasing? Just as a color’s natural complement can be found on the opposite end of a color wheel, look to the house opposite Libra’s to find the solution to the problem. The house Aries rules in your chart identifies where you’ve been leaking energy, the room whose demure tones suddenly seem pale and uninteresting next to the single, vivid wall.
In my chart, Aries rules the fifth house. In recent months, I’ve been consumed by politics – ruled by the eleventh house. My almost desperate concern about the upcoming elections reached its peak with the high-strung intensity of the Virgo New Moon. But just after the full moon in Aries, I took a spontaneous mini-vacation from worrying about politics. I stepped into the creative, playful energy of the fifth house, turning on the local jazz radio station, picking up my paint brush and boogied along while I painted in broad, red strokes. I didn’t go anywhere, I saw almost no one – a self-imposed Saturnian exile into hard but joyful labor. At the end of two days I was rejuvenated, as if the act of turning my metaphorical red wall – of eleventh house political distraction – into a literal one had opened me up to other creative possibilities.
Now the Libra New Moon eclipse is energizing my eleventh house, urging me to put down the paintbrush and rejoin the affairs of the world. But this time, I’ll surround myself with complementary colors. I’m hosting a campaign phone party, where friends can gather with potluck dishes and cell phones and work together toward a common goal. My new, fifth-house crazy quilt of colorful walls will serve as a lively backdrop not just for my treasured painting, but for the eclectic group of friends that Libra has expertly chosen for me.
At this New Moon, let “unity” be our meditative mantra. Unite your strong voice with those of people who think like you and, more importantly, people who don’t; like artists whose canvas is the world, persist in blending your colors with those who have a different artistic vision. Paint in bold strokes and vivid hues, and remember that the most beautiful paintings don’t rely on matching colors. Indeed, as I learned from my single red wall, there is unexpected pleasure to be found in contrast.
2004 April Elliott Kent
