Katy Perry

There is a reason Katy Perry keeps dying on stage only to rise again in some brighter, stranger form. Born Katheryn Elizabeth Hudson, she carries a rare triple-Scorpio signature, and Scorpio is the realm of death and rebirth, the Phoenix climbing out of its own ashes. Her Sun, that hero-light at the core of her, shines from the twelfth house, the unknowable house of spirit and the collective unconscious, and it began in gospel music: a girl of sixteen singing to the ether. That first album vanished commercially, a small death before the rebirth. Reborn as Katy Perry, she detonated with I Kissed a Girl and then Teenage Dream, whose five number-one singles made her the only woman ever to pull that off from a single record. Her Scorpio Moon rides right on the first-house horizon, so the emotions sit under the skin, magnetic and all-or-nothing, worn openly even beneath the camp and candy of her costumes. Roar, Firework, Dark Horse: each a metamorphosis, the emotional volcano channelled into empowerment. With over 143 million records sold, she remains, always, the Eagle at her own centre.