King of Cups — Tarot of the Absurd

Sunday, October 6th, 2013

KIng of Cups Meaning

*

The King of Cups was the final card illustrated for the Tarot of the Absurd. My baby was coming soon. Working all day in front of the computer made my ankles disappear into puffiness. I needed a King, and I needed him fast. I cheated— I, too, stole the image of an ancient god.

 

At first, humans were rather wretched and lived like all other wild beasts. But within one year, a reasonable beast named Oannes emerged from the Erythian Sea, at the point where it borders Babylonia (i.e.: the Persian Gulf). He had a fish’s body. Above his fish’s head he had a man’s head. Human feet emerged from beneath his fish’s tail. His voice was human. He was never seen to eat.

 

He passed his days among civilization. He taught the use of letters, sciences and arts of all kinds. He taught men to construct cities, to found temples, and to compile laws. He explained the principles of geometry. He made them learn their plants and showed them how to harvest. In short, he humanized them. No one has ever improved on his instructions. And when the sun set, Oannes retired into the sea, for he was amphibious. After this, there appeared other animals like Oannes.**

 

Over the years, the confusion of gods multiplies. Who came from whom? Where are the origins? One can trace the threads of mythology’s history like a spider’s web, each strand weaving back upon the others to create a structural whole that makes sense for the present time. Deconstructing mythology— deconstructing the spider’s web— is fascinating from a historical point of view, from a story-teller’s point of view, and from the point of view of those interested in following multitudes back to unity. Mythology is the bizarre sort of lineage where a parent begets a child and the child becomes not just a parent, but the parent of his own self.

 

Deluge and recovery. Subjugation, assumption, resurrection. In order to better subjugate the conquered people, the gods of the victors assume characteristics of the gods of the vanquished, and the gods of the vanquished rise again. Thus the names and places of gods change through the ages, one god after another taking on similar forms and forces, gods amassed and gods split

 

Adapa. Oannes. Dagon. Poseidon. Neptune. Triton. Delphin. Noah. Names of gods come and go, but the robes of priesthood have changed very little. Three or five or seven thousand years later, Catholic popes and bishops still wear the headdress dedicated to an ancient Babylonian water god.

 

 

… and after this, there appeared other animals like Oannes…

Oannes

***

 

* My illustration is very, very closely modeled after a bas-relief carving of a fish-garbed priest on temple of the god Ninurta (Saturn) at Kalhu (biblical Calah), ca. 883-859 BCE Assurnasirpal II. Source: Anthony Green, Gods, Demons and Symbols of Ancient Mesopotamia, An Illustrated Dictionary, p. 83. fig. 65. Published in London by the British Museum, in association with the University of Texas Press, Austin. 1992.

fish garbed priest

 

** Story, in italics, adapted from Berossus, a 3rd century BCE Babylonian priest. Oannes is born of the Mesopotamian god Enki, whose origins go back to the 5th century BCE in Sumer; i.e.: as far back as we have writing.

 

*** Pen&Ink ilustration by Syrena Seale. Image used without permission, but I would like to use it, with permission, in my book. To see the original image and to see more of Syrena Seale’s work, click here or click on her illustration.

 

pope mitre

 

 

Knight of Sticks — Tarot of the Absurd

Thursday, September 26th, 2013

Knight of Sticks TarotCharge! Knight of Sticks pursues the spark of his idea. Ready to take on the world, he charges at his goal. Go! Go! Strong with courage, he fears nothing. Aiming his bow to the sky, he shoots the moon. Let fly! He tucks those with less valor under his strong arm that they might ride. Come ride! Thus, he sets off his journey in haste. Though he has no clear plan of attack, he has glory in his eyes. And O!— he is a thrilling lover with his love for action.

 

But O! too— he is impatient and impulsive, and consequences be damned! When there is no clear goal, the Knight of Sticks is liable to get restless and act recklessly. He needs to learn about the consequences of his actions. Not every problem can be “fixed” right away; not everything can be controlled. Many things are made worse when one does not take the time to think. In order to keep out of trouble, it is necessary to give this Knight one’s full attention.

Empress — Tarot of the Absurd

Monday, August 19th, 2013

A few people have asked me what’s up with the crazy hat on the Empress. The Empress is an early card, one of the first ones I illustrated. This was, like, 14 years ago, back when I was still experimenting with which medium I’d draw the deck in, and I didn’t even know there were more than 22 important cards. Anyhow, the truth is, I just like drawing fancy hats on silhouettes.

 

My love of fancy hats stems from early childhood. Did you ever read the “I Can Read” book “Go Dog, Go!” ? There’s this one lady dog who keeps asking a guy dog, “Do you like my hat?” and he keeps saying, “I do not.” Until the end, when her hat is so fancy, and he says, “I do I do! I like that hat!” Or something to that extent. I haven’t read the book in 30 years or so, but it’s a classic. And then there’s the book “Mother, Mother I Feel Sick, Send for the Doctor, Quick Quick, Quick” which was highly influential in my illustration style and not without a fancy hat (Have you seen my hat?), and of course there were Arthur Rackham’s elegant silhouetted hats, and “The 500 Hats of Bartholemew Cubbins,” all of which I found delightful. My artistic influences did not stretch much beyond what I saw in children’s book illustration. In the end, this keeps the deck light-hearted and fun.

 

But about the Empress’ hat, really, I was just putting fancy hats and crazy hair on people. Most of the fancy hats disappeared and the crazy hair became quite tame. The Kings, the last cards to be illustrated, do not have a hair out of place. The Empress kept her crazy hat and her children kept their crazy hair. It’s a very important hat.

Empress

Two of Blades — Tarot of the Absurd

Friday, August 16th, 2013

2blade

The Two of Blades is a simple image depicting two balanced forces. Balanced forces may be opposites, or they may be partners. They may work together, or they may oppose each other. Balanced forces working in conjunction with one another may accomplish great things. Balanced forces at odds with one another go no where. It is important to notice the aim of your force in relation to surrounding energies.

 

I equally want to sleep and want to get things accomplished while my baby naps. (Hooray!) In the middle of these balanced forces, I get tiny crumbs of action accomplished that never seem to amount to anything and I am chronically low on sleep. Horrid compromise! How can I change it so that all my energy works toward the same goal?

 

Clarify my goals

Have fewer goals

Outline the steps needed to attain my goals

Organize my time better

Don’t have any fun (wot???)

 

Death — Niki de Saint Phalle Tarot Cards

Saturday, June 29th, 2013

niki st phalle tarot deck cards

 

 

 

I have recently acquired, via moolah, the Nikki St. Phalle tarot cards. I first encountered this deck ages ago, when it was newly released. At that time I decided that I only wanted 78-card decks, which remains true, for the most part. With this purchase, I feel as if my unintentional collection is complete. At least for now. Now I want to buy a really expensive camera.

*   *   *

 

 

 niki de saint phalle cards

One of the main ways cultures around the globe deal with death is through ritual and religion. In my family, discussion of religion generally progressed something like this:

 

Setting: Yellow 1977 VW bus, long road trip. External reference to apostles.

 

Me: “What’s an apostle?”

 

Mom (to me): “I think the four apostle were named Peter, Paul, Luke and John.” (to my father): “Is that right Paul?” (My mom was born of Jews.)

 

Dad: (noncommittal grunting sounds indicating probable ignorance.)

 

Me: “But what did they do?”

 

(pause)

 

Mom: “Paul? You went to Catholic school.”

 

Dad: (emphatic grunting sounds indicating definite ignorance)

 

Me: “Nobody knows what they did?

 

Dad: “Exactly. Nobody knows what they did.”

 

*   *   *

 

Eventually, I asked my mother why she brought us up without teaching us about religion. “I taught you about compost,” she replied. “Birth, death and regeneration all right there. Isn’t that religion?”

 

Eat food. Put scraps in the Temple of Compost. Visit the Temple, turn the pile. Wait. Add scraps. Visit. Turn. Add. Wait. Visit. Turn. (Winter. Spring.) Plant garden. Add compost. Repeat. Is it religion?

 

I sincerely believe in compost. I have never, in all my wanderings, put my foodstuffs into the trash. My younger sister and I speak in hushed tones about stealth composting systems we have developed for honoring the biodegradable potential of uneaten edibles while living in urban areas where there is seemingly no place where one can decay in peace. Hush, hush. Let it rot.

 

There is no dogma. There is no incontrovertible truth other than the truth of potential. The only absolute is the absolute potential for Death to bring forth new life. This is what we must honor; this is what we must facilitate.

 

Denying Death, denying waste, denying that which we see as unwanted or unusable or trash does not make it disappear. Putting trash someplace where we cannot see it does not make it disappear. Turning our heads away from Death does not make Death disappear. Turning our heads from Death causes Death to linger, haunting future generations with illness and waste.

 

Stockpiling Death does not make death go away. We stockpile Death in wastelands caused by pollution dumped through unseen “necessities” of modern life such as waste disposal, mining, demolition, concentrated animal feed operations, driving and roadbuilding (unseen, yes, because we ignore the waste), hospitalization, and so on. When waste is ignored, Death wins. When the potential energy of “waste” is honored and movement toward this potential is facilitated, we need not fear Death. This is the religion.

 

Death — Vertigo Tarot

Wednesday, June 5th, 2013

Godfather Death

 

Having come to a temporary halt on this blog, I’ve seriously been trying to work on the book for this deck. I’m taking all the entries and putting them in order to see what I have. What I have, it seems, is sort-of like a scrap-book. It’s interesting and eclectic. Sometimes, I spend a lot of time writing and I’m sure, in the end, what I have written won’t make it into the book. Research for a folk-tale for arcana #13 is one example. I wanted to find a folk-tale about a man who had tricked Death. The following story is such a tale. I like how the boy in the story is the 13th child and how the man turns down god as a godfather. I like how easy it was for him to trick Death— once. But of course, in the end, Death always has the upper hand. Anyhow. I don’t think I’ll put it into the book, so I hope someone here reads it and finds it amusing. It took a lot of time to pare down the story into something fun and brief. It is called—

 

Godfather Death*

 

Once upon a time there was a poor old man who had twelve children. When a thirteenth was born he did not know where to turn for help. He ran out into the highway to ask the first person whom he met to be the godfather.

 

First God came walking down the road. He said to the man, “I pity you. I will hold your child at his baptism, and care for him, and make him happy on earth.”

“I do not wish to have you for a godfather,” said the man. “You give to the rich, and let the poor starve.”

The man went on his way.

 

Next the devil came down the road. “If you will take me as your child’s godfather,” said the devil, “I will give him an abundance of gold and all the joys of the world.”

“I do not wish to have you for a godfather,” said the man. You deceive mankind and lead them astray.”

He went on his way.

 

At last came Death, walking on withered legs. “Take me as your child’s godfather,” he said, “for I make everyone equal, without distinction. He who has me for a friend cannot fail.”

The man said, “Next Sunday is the baptism. Be there on time.”

Death appeared as he had promised and held the child at baptism.

 

When the boy grew to a young man, Death took his godchild into the woods and said to him, “Now you are to become a doctor. Pay attention when you are called to a sick person. If I am standing at his head, let him smell from this flask, then anoint his feet with its contents, and he will regain his health. But if I am standing at his feet, I will soon take him. Do not attempt to begin a cure.” With that Death gave him the flask, and the young man became a renowned doctor.

 

Once, he was summoned to the king, who was suffering from a serious illness. When the doctor approached, he saw Death standing at the king’s feet. His flask would be of no use. But it occurred to him that he might deceive Death. He took hold of the king and turned him around, so that Death was now standing at his head. It succeeded, and the king regained his health.

 

After the doctor returned home, Death came to him with a grim face. “If you ever again attempt to deceive me, I shall wring your neck,” said Death

 

Soon, the king’s beautiful daughter took ill. No one on earth could help her. The king wept day and night, until finally he proclaimed that whoever could cure her could have her as a reward. The doctor came and saw Death standing at her feet. Astonished at her beauty, he forgot the warning, turned her around, let her smell from the healing flask, and anointed the soles of her feet with its contents.

 

He had scarcely returned home when Death seized him and carried him to an underground cavern. There, the physician saw thousands and thousands of candles burning in endless rows, some large, others medium-sized, others small. Every instant some died out and others were lit. Little flames jumped about in constant change.

“These are the life-lights of mankind,” said Death, then pointed to a little stump that was just threatening to go out. “There is yours!”

“Oh, dear godfather,” said the horrified physician, “light a new one for me that I may enjoy my life and become king and the husband of the beautiful princess.”

“I cannot,” answered Death, “for one must go out before a new one is lighted.”

 

The physician immediately fell into hands of Death.

 

*Re-told from Children’s and Household Tales— Grimms’ Fairy Tales, Berlin, 1812 & 1857, Tale no. 44. The Grimms’ source: Marie Elisabeth Wild (1794-1867). Variations of the tale are found dating back to 1553.

 

Seven of Swords — Deviant Moon Tarot

Thursday, March 28th, 2013
7 Swords Deviant Moon Tarot

Illustrated by Patrick Valenzia

 
Martin and I are attempting to put a 2nd bathroom in the house. I’m looking on Craigslist and other places for fixtures, because they’re wicked expensive. There was this one ad for a new-in-box faucet that seemed like a really good deal (normally $130 and he was selling it for $55 but okay he’ll let it go for $40). The dude and I wrote a couple letters. I gave him my number because I was going to go check it out. Then he kept calling! He wouldn’t stop calling! He and his fiancĂ©e live above some convenience store in Burlington and they’re both unemployed. She’s the one who posted the ad. He had this really high voice. After about the seventh call I wanted to say, “Look, actually I’m not interested.” It was beginning to be weird. But I was in Burlington and he agreed to meet me in a convenient location. So I met him, this very wide dude with the high squeeky voice and fiancĂ©e who was trying to look like she didn’t know him, hanging out on the street corner facing the other direction, and he handed me the Home Depot bag with the faucet. Well, the faucet had a box, that’s all I can say for it, and the box looked nice. I don’t know where he got the thing. I don’t think it was at Home Depot, tho that’s what he said. I think he just ripped it out of his apartment. The screen was missing (damn stoners! they get it every time…) and the chrome was all fingerprint greasy and corroded and a bunch of other parts were missing. I told him I wasn’t interested and apologized profusely. He asked why why why and lowered the price and I backed off because I felt so bad for him and I said, “It just doesn’t look new.”
 
Note to self: avoid purchasing things on street corners.

Eight of Cups — A. Daniloff 2012 Tarot

Saturday, March 9th, 2013

Tarot of Alexander Daniloff

Learning to Leave Behind Things that have Ceased to be of Use

 

The summer of 1993, when I was 20 years old, I exited the Benjamin Rush Recovery center in Syracuse, NY, where I had been an inpatient in the Eating Disorders Unit for five weeks. As much as I hated it there, I was terrified to leave. The remission rate for eating disorders is dismally low.

 

The previous semester in college I had: received a perfect 4.0 in all classes of my double major of English and Biology including the dreaded biochemistry of which I honestly had little interest; joined the cross-country team, earned myself Rookie-of-the-Year, MVP, and raced the national championships; and published poetry in a snooty magazine. I had also been bulimic, among other things, throwing up between eight and twenty times a day. I was a physiological, psychological disaster.

 

Upon leaving the recovery center, I moved into a little room with a hole in the wall in a moderately large house in Oswego, NY, where I lived unsupervised by doctors, nurses, and shrinks. I gave myself one allowance and one rule: I could eat any I wanted, as long as I did not throw up.

 

Change takes a long time.

 

It was ten years before I allowed myself to say, “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t eat just anything.” Since then, I have been exploring ways to heal and recover through food rather than in spite of food.

 

I got better.

I think I am getting better.

Anyhow, I thought I was getting better.

 

I was recently diagnosed with Graves Disease. My visit with the endocrinologist was more or less an explanation of a handful of ways to destroy my disobedient thyroid. Shocking, really, as I feel more-or-less okay other than chronic insomnia and lethargy and stinky farts. Why would I want to get rid of my thyroid? Why can’t we all just get along?

 

Some people have managed Graves Disease through diet. It means a lot of rules. I wish I had an expert to guide me. Nonetheless, I am going to try.

 

Healing means:

learning to leave behind behaviors which have ceased to be of any use

and finding new behaviors to fill the void.

Eight of Cups — Aquarian Tarot

Friday, March 8th, 2013

…but what IS change?

8 of cups aquarian tarot

 

Things that can be changed by our actions:

  • the nature of one’s self and one’s own actions (this is the most difficult change to enact)
  • the appearance of our selves and all things in the world and beyond, both sentient and non-sentient (this happens constantly, both intentionally and unintentionally)
  • the psychology or mindset of living things (our actions cause others to have reactions, some of which have lasting repercussions)

 

Things that can not be changed by our actions:

  • the base material of which something is made (we can enable reactions that do so)
  • the actions, reactions and beliefs of other people places or things (we can act as catalysts that enable or disable them to change themselves)

 

 

VERSES

 

God, give me grace to accept with serenity

the things that cannot be changed,

Courage to change the things

which should be changed,

and the Wisdom to distinguish

the one from the other.

—as phrased by Reinhold Niebuhr, 1943

 

 

For every ailment under the sun

There is a remedy, or there is none;

If there be one, try to find it;

If there be none, never mind it.

—Mother Goose, 1695

 

 

 

WORDS

—from Webster’s New Twentieth Century Dictionary, Unabridged 2nd Edition, 1971

 

Action

n. The fact or process of doing something; the state of acting or moving; exertion of power or force.

 

Belief

n. An acceptance of something as true or real; a firmly held opinion or conviction.

 

Catalyst

n. A substance which either speeds up or slows down a (chemical) reaction, but which itself undergoes no permanent chemical change. [The mechanistic explanation of catalysis is complex.]

 

Change

v. To make or become different; to transform; to arrive at a fresh phase (moon); to move from one to another; to use another instead of.

 

Serenity

n. The state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled. Clearness; brightness.

Origin of the Species — Tarot of the Absurd

Saturday, December 22nd, 2012

I did a woodcut print a number of years ago (to be posted in one week) called, “It was Raining Out.” In the image, a boy pulls a girl by the hand. He points to a ladder which leads to the attic. In the attic, there is a trunk. Outside, umbrellas fall like rain.

 

*    *    *

 

It is the attic, the endless attic where all toys go when they are outgrown, where the works of years past are laid to wait for the minds of future generations. There, the treasures are endless.

 

When it rains out, the boy and the girl sneak into the attic, close the door, and open an old wooden trunk, origin of all adventure. In the trunk lie the treasures of the mind, for it is filled with papers— letters, photographs, journals, cards— papers covered in writing and images.

 

One rainy day, the boy picks out a small carved wooden box. A box within a box. He opens it. Inside are slips of paper. On each piece, writ with fine fountain-pen script, is a terse aphorism: a riddle.

 

The girl takes the one on top and reads it aloud. “…”

 

“A riddle,” says the boy. “But what could it mean?” He takes the next, reads it. “…”

 

“I wonder how many there are” says the girl. She dumps the papers and arranges them in a grid on the floor to count. “Twenty-two.”

 

*    *    *

 

The problem was, I had no basis for filling in the ellipses. I had never seen a tarot deck. I knew there were twenty-two pictures. I knew there was a fool. I didn’t think the sixteen faces and forty numbers were actually part of the tarot deck. I had some research to do.

 

I went into a store that specialized in tarot decks and went through their albums of sample cards. Nothing caught my eye. They were all 78-card decks and none of them were special. At last I found a little hand-written booklet with a red lion on the cover and the words, “Twenty-Two Keys of the Tarot.” THIS was what I was looking for.

 

“Do you have the deck for this booklet?” I asked the clerk.

“It’s somewhere in the back,” he said, disappearing through a door beyond the bookshelves. When he returned, he handed me a small white box. “Just one,” he said. “It’s been here for ages. There’s no price on it.”

“May I look?” I asked. I was filled with that nervous sort of energy that happens when everything is absolutely right. It made my hands shake as I opened the box flap, and I was too jittery to see anything beyond the print quality (real ink on real paper) and the hand-written date. The deck was exactly 20 years old. “How much?” I asked.

“Name your price,” said the clerk.

“Ten dollars,” I said, knowing nothing about anything. I wasn’t the sort of person who bought things. The clerk nodded, rung me up, and slipped the deck into a small brown paper bag. I walked home, glowing brilliantly like the sun in the heavens.