The writer Donald Barthelme once came to see the artist Elaine de Kooning in her New York studio. Midway through the visit, loud crashes and bangs disturbed the ceiling above them. De Kooning wasn't alarmed. "Oh, that's Herbert thinking," she said, referring to the metal sculptor Herbert Ferber, who worked in a studio directly above hers. This is the kind of thinking I'd love to see you unleash in the coming days, Capricorn. Now is not a time for mild, cautious, delicate turns of thought, but rather for vigorous meditations, rambunctious speculations, and carefree musings. In your quest for practical insight, be willing to make some noise. (The story comes from Barthelme's essay "Not-Knowing.")

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Want to hear more about the subconscious factors and hidden forces that may be influencing your life? Listen to your EXPANDED AUDIO HOROSCOPE.

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SACRED ADVERTISEMENT. The oracle below is excerpted from my book PRONOIA Is the Antidote for Paranoia: How the Whole World Is Conspiring to Shower You with Blessings.
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May you eat an unfamiliar dessert in a strange land at least once every three years.

May you wake up to salsa music one summer morning and start dancing while you're still half-­asleep.

May you spray-paint Rilke poems as graffiti on highway overpasses.

May you mix stripes with plaids, floral patterns with checks, and yellowish-green with brownish-purple.

May you learn to identify by name 20 flowers, 15 trees, 10 clouds and one extrasolar planet.

May you put a bumper sticker on your car or bike that says, "My god can kick your god's ass!"

If you bury your face in your tear-stained pillow and beg God to please send you your soul mate, may you not slur your words in such a way that they sound like "cell mate."

May you dream of taking a trip to the moon in a gondola powered by firecrackers and wild swans.

May you actually kiss the earth now and then.