Transit Fever

Hi, I’m Petro. I’m a creature of nature and odd textures — I draw, I write, I blend poetry with prose, and there are too many things living inside me to name them all.

For the past fourteen years, I was deeply involved in esoterics, and my creativity still carries the echo of that world. But now I’m letting it fade into the background a bit. If someone truly needs magic, they’ll find their own book, their own thread to pull.

Here, you’ll find landscape drawings, translations of my eerie little stories, and some strange, fragile poetry. I hope you’ll enjoy wandering through it.

22.11.25

What’s this transit about?

It’s a shift of focus toward a more optimistic way of thinking — a gentle reminder to notice the bright sides of things and to view your life from a broader, more global perspective.

It’s also a great time for learning, teaching, exchanging ideas, uncovering truths, and diving into heated debates.

To imagine the vibe of this season, picture an inner landscape like a spiritual seminary’s dorm and lecture halls — student–teacher life flowing as usual, but with everyone making an effort to stay uplifting, inspired, a little closer to the divine.

Still, this period will place all the dots over the “i” in many hidden matters, revealing growth points even in small conflicts. It brings faith — in yourself, in others, and in whatever higher forces you trust. It can be a time for reconciliation with old enemies, or for confidently cutting off connections that are inherently destructive and carry no life-giving purpose.

Yet Sagittarius season has its flaws: nuance gets blurry, details slip away, and it’s hard to hold onto specifics when everything is ruled by expansive Jupiter.

But if your intention is to put the puzzle together — not to calculate the exact algebra of how it should fit — then this is your moment.

No, I never foresaw the war. I have to admit that all those clumsy things we used to do to “pray for our people” never really changed anything. Sure, some traditions in Ukrainian folk witchcraft are still alive. Mostly it’s the protective charms that girls used to make for their lovers — and I’ve done something similar myself for someone dear.

But the point here is different. War pushes everything to extremes — either into despair or into fantasy. I used to think that praying for someone could make things easier. It doesn’t. That’s an illusion that only holds when you’re drowning in helplessness. Real change demands real effort, real resources, real work.

War has stripped away what I thought mattered. The hope for a peaceful life ahead. Now there is only a kind of stoic understanding that if I die — there will be nothing I can do about it.

Out of all the magical tools I once used in peacetime — spells for money, for health, for love — only grounding and centering practices remain. Meditation, some simple visualizations. The present moment cuts away anything illusory, no matter how sweet it used to feel.

The same happened to my methods. Only the essential parts survived — the ones I still have strength for. Instead of dozens of herbs, only those with real, proven effects, and maybe the simple act of holding a warm cup to feel the “spirit of the plant.” Instead of complex ceremonies — small, quiet rituals with three steps at most. Even the seasonal festivals have become shadows of what they were — leaving only reflection, dim light, silence, and my magical journal.

Hard truth is — this kind of test isn’t given to everyone. I see people still playing at being grand witches while everything around them is collapsing. While people are dying. While those who need real support are offered placebo instead of actual help — help that requires strength, time, and money that many don’t have.

I’m tired. And magic, for me, is now only my private practice. Small, simple, quiet, without ornament.

War is always pain. And I cannot afford anything excessive anymore.

Donations to the army and to volunteer funds make more sense to me now — because that is the symbolic gesture that actually changes something.

Maybe this sounds too skeptical. But my point is: help is either real or it’s not. And I’m glad I woke up in time, pulled my head out of the sand.

Magic can transform reality. But the first transformation is always internal.

I'm finally getting disenchanted and de-mythologized. Lately, the esoteric community has been rubbing me the wrong way. Because it’s not about spirit — it’s about flirting with the idea of spirit. So I’d rather let my spirituality stay with me, quietly, privately.

Maybe I will still write something about astrology now and then, but I’m tired of the wannabe witches who start suspecting “curses” from anyone they don’t like. I’m also tired of the sellers of initiations, and of those who aggressively push services that no one actually needs in order to live a happy, full life. A life of quality and pleasure.

Right now, I feel a real need for creativity. I’ve already posted my black-and-white artworks here. But they barely got any views. I don’t know — maybe I messed up the hashtags or whatever. Either way, I’ll keep creating. And I’ll keep believing that finding even a few people to exchange my awkward little art pieces with will be more satisfying than posting witchcraft or astrology content just because it “fits the niche.”

Petro didn’t vanish — just went on a recharge.

Meanwhile in the sky, Venus has entered Libra and formed a trine to Pluto in Aquarius.

This aspect could be beautifully (or not so beautifully) titled: “Internet for Porn.”

When? Right now — and for the next couple of days.

What’s it about, exactly?

This is the time when finding “trouble for your ass” becomes much easier. With Venus in trine to Pluto (which corrupts her gentle nature), plus an opposition to Neptune and another trine to Uranus in Gemini — the moral compass is spinning wildly, and sober judgment is pretty much out the window.

Sobriety under this configuration is more of an exception than a rule. Everything might go — from Mad Hatter tea parties overdosed on caffeine to substances much, much heavier.

If betrayal and victory ever come hand in hand, if open relationships are born from chaos — it’s during configurations like these, when Venus is touched by all three trans-Saturnians at once.

Venus in Libra by herself is the epitome of charm, tact, and polite ethics. But in opposition to Neptune she gains double standards, in trine to Uranus she becomes flirtatious and reckless, and with a push from Pluto — she transforms into a full-fledged femme fatale, in all her beauty and monstrosity alike.

For those waiting for a hot autumn — it has arrived. For those afraid to peek into their own snake pit — I fear the snakes are already slithering out to bite where it hurts.

As always, a reminder: the trans-Saturnians aren’t just “weird lads” — they’re also minor malefics. So under their aspects, planets tend to go feral.

I’m predicting moralizing rants from dinosaurs, scandals about who slept with whom (and why without protection), and since Pluto’s leading the dance, someone’s bound to think they’ve been bewitched to an oak tree — and soon we’ll have little Pinocchios running around.

What’s it about?

Think: Harry Potter receiving his Hogwarts letter. Perfect for students and teachers of every kind—both academic and completely informal. A great boost for learning, research, and all kinds of information work.

Also favorable for travel, business trips, international connections, and exploring other cultures and spiritual traditions.

It’s like a little talent fair, where success and luck in matters of wisdom and knowledge play out like a jackpot. Still—watch out for disappointment. Excessive emotionality can cloud judgment and create what people love to call “illusions.” The advice: take in the new, but keep your head clear.

We might also see language issues, questions of national identity, patriotic narratives, and wider engagement with political discourse. And yes—there will be emotion, but that’s fully expected here.

Not least, themes of family values, nesting, and even new tribal groupings outside of traditional family models will surface.

For about another month, Uranus will remain in Gemini before slipping back into Taurus for a while.

This is a time to carefully re-examine our drive for growth, to try on steps that could carry us far forward. It’s also a time of returning to something that once radically changed our lives.

On the event level — this can mean enrolling in courses, digging into books, or revisiting past mistakes in learning. It’s a perfect season for book lovers, for the dark-academia crowd, for anyone immersed in the old spirit of research, writing, and apprenticeship.

It’s also a great time for course creators and teachers of all kinds of personal-development programs—for everything that can be either a precious gem or a complete disaster. But most importantly, this is when truly skilled experts step into the spotlight, offering knowledge. Often this knowledge is niche, rare, sometimes even half-forgotten—things you won’t find in mass circulation.

Elsewhere — we might also see the revival of the printed word. A new, intriguing publication could appear on the shelves, or a unique author might make their debut. Book bloggers will certainly have their moment too.

At first glance this placement seems easy to grasp—but not quite. Much is overlooked, as if it were simple, obvious. But like Lynch’s owls, it isn’t what it seems.

Capricorn, Saturn’s nocturnal domicile, also carries the exaltation of Mars, the detriment of the Moon, and the fall of Jupiter. These essences shape the sign’s very description. Moving away from pictorial archetypes, we can see how the planet in this sign absorbs its qualities. Here, Saturn becomes the “achiever”—a quality that clearly echoes Mars. It gives focus, perspective, and the ability to plan according to Saturn’s best nature (compare this to Saturn in Aquarius).

On the darker side—this Saturn is inhumane. At odds with the Moon, it loses emotional depth and empathy. Here Saturn harvests relentlessly, cutting down the colorful shades of feeling. Carriers of this principle often fall into extremes of workaholism, or slip into depressive states, especially when their luminaries lack support from benefics.

The fall of Jupiter in Capricorn estranges Saturn from global charity, pushing it toward harsh pragmatism, and at times cutting off faith in anything beyond the visible world. If Jupiter and Neptune are weak in the chart, the native may lean atheist or agnostic. Yet many Saturn-in-Capricorn people become academic occultists—careful, meticulous, preferring to gather and compare knowledge rather than chase wild experiments. This makes them excellent analysts and managers.

Writers often note Saturn’s affinity with architecture and sculpture—pointing to strong spatial vision, a sense of form, and structural awareness. These natives possess a tactile imagination of shape and substance.

When? — September 2

What does it mean? Virgo is Mercury’s seat of power. You could say it’s the brain of the Zodiac—and now it switches on.

What qualities does this placement highlight? Moderation, cold calculation, responsibility, pedantry. Picture a successful Wall Street businesswoman—that’s exactly the vibe. On the shadow side: grumbling, scattering energy chaotically, nervousness, panic, and worrying over details.

Overall, Mercury in Virgo feels like a character straight out of Agatha Christie—meticulous, clever, gifted, but impossible to live with for one reason or another.

Who benefits from this placement? Analysts, economists, financiers, accountants, bloggers to some degree, and anyone working in communications, postal services, or logistics.

The winds of change—that’s what carriers of this Venus embody. They enter relationships easily, and just as easily let them go. Anyone who catches their gaze is drawn into dialogue. Yet the chosen ones will never truly know which face of this Venus they are speaking with. This placement resembles a flock of sirens—enchanting and destructive with their claws at the same time.

The mercurial nature of Gemini makes Venus here behave ambiguously, contradictorily, often even chaotically. If this Venus receives good aspects from Jupiter, or at least neutral planets like the Moon or the Sun, she gains grandeur, becoming a resource for her owner. In that case, analytical skills, moderation, and sound judgment come to the surface.

But as Ptolemy once noted—and I still see it today—when Venus is conjunct Mercury in Gemini, there is an extreme degree of cunning, if not something darker. People of this type may use those they love. Among them, you might encounter gaslighters and psycho-sadists. The moist nature of Gemini gives such a Venus imagination and inventiveness, pulling their partners into endless experiments of the heart.

Aspects to the trans-Saturnians are even more destructive. With Uranus, there is ease in breakups and unusual choices of partners. With Neptune, a pull toward a bohemian lifestyle. With Pluto, distortions and extremes in the very ideas of beauty and love. Yet all trans-Saturnian aspects to Venus promise unusual financial potential—especially if one of these planets is linked with the 2nd house of the horoscope.

I almost lost track of this one in the chaos of everything, but I’m writing now because — surprise — it’s happening. Right now.

If you like your love dirty, painful, and laced with a few fetishes — this one’s for you. It’s a transit where romantic stories might go from absolute disgust to divine worship within a single breath. And really, who's shocked? Emotions will be doing the full dramatic peacock thing for the next two to three days, especially with other Venus aspects cooking in the background.

But this opposition? This is the kind that makes you want to throw on something inappropriate, blast rock or gangsta rap (dealer’s choice), sip something dangerously strong, and seduce someone just for tonight. Still — every opposition is about regret and longing. And this one? It screams for the unattainable. The people you want? Just friends. The people who want you? God, why?

On other fronts: purchases during this transit are not looking cute either. Yesterday I bought myself an MMORPG on Steam and logged into an absolutely empty world (I still hope it was just a cursed location). Either way, this is prime time for meaningless purchases with a high emotional price tag.

As for beauty — if you’ve been craving a dramatic style change, this might be your cosmic greenlight. Will the experiment work? Maybe. Will you regret it anyway? Absolutely.

Alright folks, the time has come. If your tongue's been itching to say something — well, this is your cosmic cue. This is that moment where all the sharp, tangled thoughts in your mind are ready to be unleashed. That inner monologue with razor edges? It’s getting a microphone.

Of course, there are caveats. Expect travel delays, surprise blockages, technical fails. A flat tire, a coughing engine, someone texting instead of driving — you get the vibe. Mercury’s on a mission, and Mars throws in some chaos for spice.

This transit is "what’s on your mind is suddenly on your tongue." Even as this aspect begins to ripen, your humble astrologer has already become the subject of an internet drama. But what about you?

If you’ve got personal placements in Earth or Water signs, it may feel a bit more intense, a little raw. For everyone else, it’s probably just spicy enough.

Expect impulsive outbursts, brain-to-mouth leakage, a rapid-fire monologue of half-formed feelings. And that’s okay — as long as you remind yourself: "I’m gonna be fine."

Why such a pretentious name? Because these are people who don’t just feel — they put their emotions on a pedestal and turn every encounter into a madrigal.

Social life means everything to them. Reputational damage is the ultimate punishment, and the elegance of your cufflinks matters just as much as a minute of Chopin’s nocturne.

Their idea of comfort is a glass of wine in a designer apartment, shared with a friend while delicately discussing unions and feuds. Even if they’re broke — trust me, they’ll have that one refined item, cherished like a samurai sword.

Care from a Libra Moon feels like freshly starched sheets, a branded shirt that looks like any other but has a price tag that sends you into mild cardiac arrest, and thoughtful questions that gently guide you back to your own center.

When angry, they become a marble statue. Cold. Silent. Judging. To them, the real sin is a lack of tact, ethical lapses, or social vulgarity. Maybe they’ll pull some tarot. Maybe horary. But the verdict will come at that precise moment when you think the conflict’s already over.

These are aesthetes who spot Mayan glyphs in the bathtub drain swirl. They crave a sense of inner certainty they just can’t grow themselves. If you’ve got one in your life — surround them with quality beauty, treat them to a luxe dinner, or just keep high-end music playing softly in the background.

Some say your profession is a choice. Sure, maybe it is. But more often, it’s a chain of unconscious turns at high speed — where your car ends up as either a racecar or a clunky old ZAZ that stalls every ten meters.

My path into astrology didn’t feel like a decision. It felt like falling into a river and realizing you know how to swim. I’m not the best person out there. Sometimes I catch myself dreaming, “what if things had turned out differently?” They didn’t. And won’t.

I have a degree in psychology. I did a stint as a counselor. But I know now — therapy isn’t for me. Not because I’m “broken,” but because my own cracks would tear apart on other people’s problems. I’d lose my mind to save someone else’s.

Astrology gives me the rhythm I need. Daily posts? They’re my ritual. My way of exorcising doubts, of making sense of what I see. My own odd blend of penance and responsibility.

Consultations? They’re little sprints. A flash of momentum that lets me keep going — scraping together rent money without begging my friends for help. So, huge thanks to the people who gave me a foundation: Anastasiya (all three of them — even the one I no longer talk to), Tetyana, Dmytro, Nataliya K., Nataliya Yatsenko, Karina Kary for her wicked humor, Yeva for her surgical ego-realism, Kateryna H. for that moment of self-seeing.

And to my current students — four so far — you are my mission. I want you flying out of this with wings sharp enough to cut through cloud cover. I demand a lot, but I give more.

In the last few years, one Yoruba proverb keeps me grounded: “The sky is wide enough for all birds to fly without colliding.” Yes, there are tons of other astrologers out there — some better, some worse. But I’ve finally realized: we all attract the querents (clients) who are meant for us. There’s an invisible thread in play. Maybe even a North Node moment, who knows.

Once, a young woman came to me. She later went on to study forestry. At first I thought, “Forestry? Seriously?” But then I remembered — I told her she’d do best with nature-centered careers. And wow, it landed. That little moment of cosmic alignment? Worth all of it.

So yeah, while I prep my next post — feel free to ask me And if you’d like to support this strange, blossoming life of mine, you can toss a coin to my PP (DM 4 details). If I manage to turn my room into a botanical sanctuary, I’ll absolutely post some plant selfies for you.

Bad news, babes. The Sun is all about centering, ego, personal power, the glowing throne of identity. Uranus? He’s a barefoot anarchist with lightning in his pockets and a one-way ticket to Oz, dragging Dorothy and the whole damn house through the storm.

This year, the fusion party crashes right into Algol, the infamous demon star in Taurus—a celestial guillotine that loves nothing more than beheading your most cherished goals.

This isn't just spicy astro for control freaks or power players. Even those who’ve been peacefully marinating on their fifth point of contact? Consider your "stability" on fire.

What to do about it? If you’ve mastered Zen or Dao, congratulations—you don’t need advice. For the rest of us: let go. Don’t carry heavy things (literally or emotionally), and don’t try to "figure it all out." This is the aspect of de-throning, so take a note from the Mad Hatter. Destroy meaning with nonsense. Be a glorious chaos gremlin between May 17–19. Your to-do list can wait.

Starting big projects during this transit? It’s like planting petunias in an active volcano. Cute idea. Doomed effort.