Years ago, during COVID, when everyone was stuck inside baking bread and doing puzzles, I decided to paint. I downloaded Stellarium, a software program that shows you the sky, entered my date of birth, and painted what the sky looked like at the exact moment I was born.
I have a stellium in the 7th house. The planets lined up in the evening sky just as the Sun was setting, all within the constellation of the Priestess — Virgo. Venus was bright, so I placed a glittery stud next to her. Mars was hidden behind the Sun, in the underworld, so I bought garnet sand (a Mars-related crystal) and used it in the sand on the beach, reflecting both the Sun and Mars.
Something surprising happened. I deeply connected with my chart in a way I never had before.

Around the same time, Jupiter and Saturn were moving into conjunction, and I became fascinated with what the configurations I saw in my astrology software actually looked like in the real night sky. It started a practice. I began paying attention to the sky itself.
At one point, I waited with excitement for my Venus return. I watched the sky leading up to and for days afterwards, completely captivated by her presence. While doing this, I noticed something curious: when Venus and Spica were at the same degree in the chart, they appeared miles apart in the sky.
I happened to mention this to another astrologer who, as part of his school, takes people out under the night sky. He explained why. I had an “aha” moment.
To truly connect with a chart, we cannot simply look at it on a computer. We must go outside, stand beneath the night sky, and connect.
From then on, wherever I travelled, I made a point of connecting with the stars. In Spain, while camping all night in a mountain cave, nicknamed the Eye of the Dragon, I heard loud animal noises and possibly even saw a UFO — yet I felt calm and protected. As we had ascended the mountain at sunset, I looked up and saw Venus at her brightest, just before she entered her retrograde phase. Later, the Moon appeared on the opposite side of the sky, cozied up to Jupiter. It felt like a clear sign: the planets were on our side.
Then something else happened — something I consider a very big sign.
On September 9, 2025, I bought a camper van. My intention was to visit stone circles and dark-sky spaces, and to learn more about astrology, the land, and its astronomical alignments.
When I cast the chart for the moment I became the owner of the van, I noticed something remarkable: the rising sign was the same as mine and was exactly conjunct my Midheaven. The Midheaven is your highest point — what you’re known for, often connected to career and purpose.
For the ascendant of my camper van to be conjunct my Midheaven suggested a significant relationship — one tied directly to my life’s work.
I couldn’t collect the van right away. I left a sizable deposit and returned a couple of weeks later to pick it up early in the morning. But payment issues with the bank card reader meant I had to search for cash — no easy task in the UK. After visiting two banks and several hours of problem-solving, I finally returned, paid, and received the keys.
The moment the transaction was completed and ownership transferred, I cast another chart.
To my amazement, it had the exact same rising sign — to the degree.
What was the universe trying to tell me?
Both the camper van’s ascendant and my Midheaven sit in the middle of Sagittarius — the sign of teaching, adventure, travel, learning, spirituality, philosophy, and higher wisdom. I also have the asteroid Urania in my chart, named after the Greek Muse of Astronomy (and astrology — the two were inseparable in ancient times).
With the van’s ascendant sitting on my Midheaven, it felt as though this vehicle had entered my life to help me fulfill my highest purpose: to teach, to travel, and to share higher knowledge through astronomy and astrology.
A few days later, I headed to an International Dark Sky location in Wales with a friend. We camped under a dark moon, the best time for sky-watching, as there is no moonlight to obscure the stars. Dark Sky locations actively reduce light pollution, offering pristine views of the heavens.
Because it was also a New Moon, we consciously connected with its energy. Signs appeared everywhere — in the trees, in the directions we took, even in the songs that played. Each one seemed to reflect the lessons of that New Moon. It was magical.
That’s when it occurred to me: I should take people out onto the land and under the dark sky to experience this too — to learn astrology not just symbolically, but directly, through the sky itself and in relationship with the land.
And so, that is what I plan to do.

I want to help you remember this way of seeing the sky. Where are the planets? Which constellations do they occupy? How do we locate their relationship to us — their degrees? What did the sky look like when you were born? And how does experiencing it firsthand deepen your connection to astrology?
In ancient times, birth charts weren’t calculated with apps or software. They were observed. Priests, skywatchers, and star keepers stood beneath the night sky and read the heavens directly.
I want to invite you back into that original relationship — away from screens, away from digital interference, and back into the wild sky.
And it’s more than that. How did our ancestors come to understand the energy of Venus, or any planet? By observing where they were placed and noticing what unfolded around them — in nature, in relationships, in signs and synchronicities.
The Wild Sky Mystery School
I’ve created six opportunities for you to join me, camping under the night sky in sacred locations across the UK, France, and Spain. Spain will be a particularly special and extended experience, taking place during the totality of a Solar Eclipse, the Perseid meteor showers, and a powerful planetary lineup.







