Day 11: Letter to a friend Lynn and I dined at a restaurant that has been in business for over 400 years. "I haven't eaten here in years," Lynn confessed. "That's easy to do when the restaurant stays in business for centuries," I noted. The thing about dinner with an astrologer who is also a Jungian therapist, and an Ericksonian, is that conversation is multi-layered. It's rich in metaphor. We discussed the praying mantis gene: Venus conjunct Pluto, those who must prey upon what they love. Sometimes consuming the other is beneficial for the love object. Sometimes it is destructive. Context is everything; what is the relationship? "You would never want to sleep with someone who has that conjunction," Lynn commented. Graciously, in response to my curiosity about this part of the natal chart, she talked about the 8th house: the house of the fall (not the season, but the act of stepping away from grace), the house of hidden power, the house of mysticism and deep sexual union. After dinner we loitered in front of Notre Dame, which is lit up only in front, and not on the sides--so those gorgeous flying buttresses were not shown off to any advantage at all. Dommage; but the socialists are saving money. Lynn snapped an "atmospheric" photo of me. I was more interested in the facade, Le Courbusier's "pure creation of spirit." Alas I lacked a zoom on my phone to focus in on the figures of Adam and Eve, high up, to the right and left of the rose window. Eve holds an apple.