My grandmother's sky
I grew up in Almaty, Kazakhstan, under mountains and a very big sky. My grandmother, my äje Raisa, read the stars, the numbers and the old qumalaq stones. On warm August nights she took me up on the roof and showed me where the planets were.
At seventeen I moved to London. Before I left she gave me a small gold crescent moon. I still wear it every day. Later, her notebooks came to me too.
“The stars don't decide your life. They show you the weather. You still choose the road.”
That's how I write every reading: real planet positions, plain words, and practical days to act or to wait.