Monday, March 18th, 2013

Alchemist — Tarot of the Absurd

The Alchemist is the bridge between ether and life. He channels ambient power through his self and arranges it into organized forms. He demonstrates the creative power to manifest one’s desires. In this image, in the ultimate act of creation, he creates himself. First emerged, one hand directs with the magic wand. Body, limbs, moon and ether form the two loops of the sign of infinity on a field of stars. Two wispy fingers pull the tail end of his body from the mouth of the erlenmeyer flask, finishing with one hand what was begun with the other. In the most fundamental and extreme demonstration of origination, the Alchemist has brought his own self into being.

Infinite Alchemist

 

—Big Bang Theory—

 

Exploding past the question—

“Who Am I?”

The Alchemist comes screaming forth—

“I Am!”

 

Positive meaning:

Search through your bag of tricks to find creative ways to solve problems. Clear your head. Focus. You can do it!

 

Negative meaning:

Learn the difference between tricks and trickery. Deceit and manipulation do not make up for poor design. Stay grounded, be clear, be true.

Saturday, March 9th, 2013

Eight of Cups — A. Daniloff 2012 Tarot

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.

Friday, March 8th, 2013

Eight of Cups — Aquarian Tarot

…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.

Friday, March 1st, 2013

Eight of Cups — Tarot of the Absurd

Many years ago, an acquaintance of mine told me a dream. I like listening to dreams. I no longer remember the dream, precisely. All I remember is my impression. My impression of his dream was this image: 

Something here needs to change.

 

 

 

(to be read aloud, except in the case of parenthesis)

 

Change.

 

(inhale)

 

Let go, let go.

Fill your lungs and then let go.

 

(bigger inhale)

 

Let go, let go.

Let go, let go.

Fill your lungs, fill your lungs.

Fill your lungs and then let go.

 

(biggest inhale)

 

Let go, let go.

Let go, let go.

Fill your lungs, fill your lungs.

Fill your lungs and then let go.

Let go.

 

(full release)

 

 

(full inhale)

 

 

(full release)

 

 

(full inhale)

 

 

(full release)

 

 

(full inhale)

 

 

(full release)

 

 

(etc., as necessary)

Friday, February 8th, 2013

Collection

tarot collection

My mother has a highly accurate ability to manifest objects for loved ones.* Often times she does not have to leave the house; she merely has to go to the attic or somesuch location. Otherwise, the objects invariably turn up at garage and estate sales. Generally, a simple object will show up within a year of a serious request. More complex manifestations may take longer, tho I have never known her to fail, except in the case of a butterdish, but that is because she can’t believe I seriously want a butterdish and therefore refuses to manifest it.

 

One time, she manifested a pot top for a woman clear across the country. She had never seen the exact top to that exact pot before, but within a few months of declaring she would find it, she did. Unfortunately, the top was too small. Fortunately, the woman had another pot that needed that exact top and furthermore, my mother found the correct top shortly thereafter. She has not seen a similar pot top since.

 

She purchased the glass shelves in this picture for a total of $1.oo without knowing what she would do with them. She bragged about the shelves heartily, so I offered to take them off her hands. They sat in my basement for a year until I realized where they needed to be: housing my tarot deck collection to keep it out of reach of destructive little hands and mouths.

 

My partner has little patience for manifestation, and some things must simply be purchased new, so we went to the hardware store & bought six black metal brackets for four or five dollars each and a tube of clear silicone and installed the shelves in the living room above the couch. I spread a thin layer of silicone on top of the brackets and let it dry before putting on the glass. It makes a wonderful rubbery barrier. I then put silicone on the bottoms of all the bookends. Delightful stuff. I am very happy with the new setup.

 

*I believe she can manifest knitting machines and sewing machines and fix them to perfect working condition for anyone.

Saturday, February 2nd, 2013

Hierophant — Tarot of the Absurd

The illustration for the Hierophant commenced in a tiny cabin in Fairbanks, AK, in the midst of a love affair with Pan. Commonly known as the Greek god of wild places, shepherds and flocks, hunting, folk music, and seducer of nymphs, Pan’s origins are obscure and far older than the Olympic pantheon.

 

Gods exist due to our worship in one form or another. [See the moral from Dec. 6th 2013]. That which brings us closer to god— the Hierophant— is that which is able to increase our worship of god [See March 10, 2012]. My preferred form of worship is love, altho some seem to prefer fear. Thus, the illustration was to have been Pan and a nymph, which I’m sure some would have taken as devil worship. Really, the only way one can worship the devil is to place one’s self-pleasure above all else, which is what I’m supposed to have depicted in the Devil. Gods, on the other hand, take many forms. Some have crooked hairy legs and goat horns.

 

Although I was in love with Pan, I would have been quite happy to have been seduced by any god. Unfortunately, gods stayed away. Fortunately, muses abounded. Unfortunately, at least one of them was strong-headed. I had meant to depict the Hierophant as Pan and an adoring nymph. Somewhere along the line, my muse got ideas of her own and moved my hand to draw a bull-headed, bull-handed man reminiscent of the Minotaur.

 

The Minotaur is not one of many; thus, one cannot say, “a minotaur.” The Minotaur is a result of a bestial love affair between a snow-white bull and Minos’ wife Pasipha. King Minos was supposed to sacrifice the bull that Posiedon had given him, but Minos really, really liked that bull and decided to sacrifice one of his own in stead. Provoked to great annoyance, Posiedon caused Minos’ wife Pasipha fall in love with the bull. Pasipha hired Daedalus make a wooden cow for her to hide in. The bull was suitably duped— pacified, so to speak. Pasipha became pregnant. She birthed the Minotaur: the taurus (bull) of Minos, a terrifying and destructive monster. Daedalus was again called in, this time by King Minos who ordered him to design a gigantic, intricate and inescapable labyrinth in which to hide Minos’ own shame. For his efforts, Daedalus was rewarded with imprisonment, but that’s a whole other story.

 

My point is, despite appearances, this is not the Minotaur. My misdirected muse caused me to draw a nice, loving holy man with the head of a sacred bull. I do rather like him, myself.

 

Sunday, December 23rd, 2012

Tarot Riddles — Tarot of the Absurd

[continued from yesterday’s post]

After purchasing my first deck,

I sat down to learn the meanings of the twenty-two Major Triumphs in order to compose

The Tarot Riddles.

The riddles are not intended to describe the image on the card; they are to describe the essence.

This was my first understanding of the tarot deck. It was from these riddles I began to illustrate

The Tarot of the Absurd.

The Tarot Riddles

 

Download The Tarot Riddles, print them out, cut them up, & put them in order as the Tarot of the Absurd is ordered. The first ten people who take their time to do this will earn themselves either (1) two cute little magnets OR (2) the offer of free shipping on a deck of cards/ $5 off international shipping. (Are there even ten people who read this blog?) And if you just want some cute little magnets (Strength & 7 of Cups), I’m selling business-card sized magnets for $2 each. Any questions? Anyone wanna try? Anyone? Anyone? Hey! Spread the word!

 

Saturday, December 22nd, 2012

Origin of the Species — Tarot of the Absurd

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.

Friday, December 7th, 2012

The Devil — Tarot of the Absurd

“Tell me,” said the Young Man, “tell me.”

“Tell me of the Devil.”

“Oh, the Devil,”

spoke the Poet. “Of him I speak with foul mouth

and forked tongue. For when it comes to Devils,

who can speak the truth?”

 

*   *   *

 

A lone man alone, remote in his perversion,

honed in upon his own self-pleasure,

self-centered on the center of his own self,

this Devil has snagged his soul in a noose.

Hooped over in a loop, twisted and bent,

his mind and mouth deformed, reformed to form

a conjoined single-purpose pleasure apparatus

body contorted, diverged from human form,

cloistered in self-worship, his cracked mind

wanders on a twisted pleasure path,

sequestered in mad obsession of

self-consuming passion or rabid addiction

to hedonistic compulsion.

Forsaken and forsaking all society,

this Devil has found Devil’s work

for idle hands and idle mouth to do.

Chained in shackles to the conceit of his desire,

the Devil plays the Devil with himself.

 

 

Thursday, December 6th, 2012

King Rama & Shabari as The Hierophant

I began the image for my Hierophant card long before I read Questioning the Ramayanas: a South Asian Tradition, edited by Paula Richman. If I had illustrated it afterward, the essence of the picture would have been the same, only perhaps with the poor old Shabari with her arm looped over god-king Rama’s shoulder.

 

Before I encountered the tarot deck, I had never heard the word “hierophant,” so I looked it up. The word comes from the greek combination of ta hiera, “the holy,” and phainein, “to show.” Traditionally, the Hierophant interprets sacred mysteries and arcane principles. I understand the Hierophant as one who demonstrates holiness and brings others closer to god.

 

 

To make a very long collection of stories very short, the divine Lord Rama spends a lot of time wandering the forest in exile. One story in his wanderings concerns an old woman named Shabari.

 

Shabari is a low-caste woman who has escaped marriage and exiled herself to the edge of a community of forest-dwelling ascetics. She keeps herself hidden. At night she sweeps the paths an deposits firewood outside the doors of their hut and the men say, “Who has done this?”

 

Their Guru instructs his students to stay awake and apprehend this “thief” who is stealing their merit. So they capture Shabari, who falls at the Sage’s feet in devotion. The Sage realizes she something special and invites her into the ashram. The aesthetics take offense at this. When the Guru dies, he promises Shabari that she will see Lord Rama in her lifetime. Disconsolate, it is this knowledge that keeps her alive.

 

With their Guru gone, the aesthetics get nasty. When one accidentally brushes Shabari as she is sweeping the path to the lake, he berates her for polluting him. When he gets to the lake, he finds it has become polluted with blood and vermin. He blames it on that unlucky woman Shabari instead of his own unclean actions.

 

Every day Shabari spends a great amount of time collecting wild jujube fruit from the forest to serve to Lord Rama in case he should happen to stop by. Jujube are uncultivated. Some are very sweet & some are quite sour, so Shabari tastes each one to make sure it is sweet. Only the sweetest for the God-King! In Hindu tradition, there are clean foods and there are dirty foods. A food tasted by a woman, and a low-caste woman at that, is excessively dirty.

 

Every day she waits, but when she finally hears he is coming, she hides in her hut. Of course he seeks her out. She prostrates before him; he lifts her up. Her sorrow departs and she feeds him fruit. He eats and praises it.

 

Meanwhile all the aesthetics are worried about the polluted lake. Someone suggests they ask Rama for a solution when he gets there. Oh, they learn he is already there, and sitting in the hut of that woman!

 

Their pride is shattered. They go to the hut. Rama instructs to the men to touch Shabari’s feet (yuk! dirty!) and bring her to the lake. When she touches the lake, it is once again clean.

 

This story challenges all Hindu concepts of purity and pollution, ultimately showing that the purest thing is unsullied devotion. The god-king Rama has visited Shabari first not because she follows all those strict rules of being— the highest of which is being a man of high birth— but because she is the most devoted.

 

The moral of my retelling is this: That which brings one closer to god is not following arcane rules and mysteries, but unwavering devotion and love demonstrated through thought and action. Gods love best those who love them best.