Saturday, September 29th, 2012

Queen of Wands Crossed by Temperance — Fairy Tale Tarot

I was recently gifted a nice new little laptop from a couple of family members. It is my first new computer in nearly eight years, thus I need to go about purchasing all those updated graphics programs. I want to draw cool pictures— might I someday be gifted the time!— so I bought a big screen. Then, of course, having a screen, I bought an external keyboard. Not having used a mouse since sometime in the mid 90s, I found it necessary to purchase an external trackpad. I don’t have all the correct adapters and such yet, so I’ve got a lot of pretty hardware sitting on my desk collecting fingerprints.

 

I need a break from my own deck and from one-card readings. My most-used spread has always been the celtic cross, although I am not certain I know what all the positions mean. Thus, I study the first two positions: The Significator and What Crosses Me. This would increase my typical reading by NEW! IMPROVED! 100% MORE CARDS! (one).

 

After more consideration than usual, I pulled the MRP Fairy Tale Tarot off the shelf. I really wanted something else, something simpler, but I paid too much for this deck, so I figure I ought to either try to appreciate it or be rid of it.

 

I picked out the Queen of Wands to represent myself, shuffled the deck, asked, “What Crosses Me?” and pulled Temperance. Is it possible to be crossed by temperance?

 

I take a break to scan the cards and ponder this and quickly discover that there is no software which enables my old scanner to function with my new computer. Sigh!*

 

The Fairy Tale story is called “Water and Salt.” It’s about learning to listen and appreciate the value of ordinary life. I suppose it is possible to be crossed by Temperance if one wishes to do something extraordinary. Or it is possible to be crossed by Temperance if one is extremely well-rounded and cannot choose a single path to follow. I suppose it is possible to be double-crossed by temperance should both instances be the case. Recently, I’ve been feeling double-crossed by temperance.

 

All the extremes that made my life so unusual are tempered by having a child. There are a number of extremes that I have excelled at. However, no one extreme has stood out above the rest for any extended period of time— except from the point of view of my partner’s son who sums it up quite well by saying that I am extremely bizarre. I have never argued.

 

The battle between the desire to DO DO DO DO DO and the desire to chill with my babe is not much of a struggle: the baby wins most every time. My one remaining extremity is writing. The fabulous worlds created by miraculous manipulation of the alphabet are one of the truest forms of magic. I have always dabbled in this form of sorcery. It has always been my dream to enchant.

 

Double-crossed by Temperance, the Queen pares her Wand to a fine point and takes aim.

 

*And I need a new camera, too, if I am ever to take pictures of my soon-to-crawl daughter.Baba Studios Magic Realist Press

Thursday, September 27th, 2012

Page of Blades — Tarot of the Absurd

Tarot of the Absurd Page of Blades[I illustrated the Pages in my deck as girls to equal out the balance of power between the sexes among the courts a bit. Ultimately, Pages are youth and the Knights are teenagers and the Kings and Queens are grown-ups. The Pages have crowns due to my own ignorance. What was I thinking?]

 

The Page of Blades is a sly girl with a mind that moves like lightning. A budding communications expert, she is an avid learner and an excellent student. The Page of Blades is full of questions and ideas, and she does not mean to keep them to herself. The books are not just there for show. Someday, in the future, they may be written by her own hand. 

 

The Page of Blades has a bundle of energy and is extremely curious— sometimes to a fault. If she were a cat she’d be on her ninth life and still creeping fences, jumping through broken windows and getting her whiskers caught in the mousetrap. But, to coin a proverb, a mind sharp with wisdom is often honed on the strop of curiosity. Her tongue and mind and blade are sharp, and the are used for carving. The tongue carves words into questions, warnings and advice, making friends or enemies as the case may be. The mind carves input from the senses into observations and ideas. And the blade begins to carve these new ideas into something real. In the young hands of the artisan of the blade, a concept becomes a plan becomes a fact.

 

But like all pages, the Page of Blades oft moves a bit quick, and if she does not pay close attention to what she does, she might carve off a bit of stuff she meant to keep. A tongue too quick to spout questions and advice might annoy and offend. A mind with ideas not thoroughly thought out but followed nonetheless might run into more obstacles than open paths. And a blade too quick to strike is oft not well aimed.

Tuesday, September 25th, 2012

Wheel of Fortune — Tarot of the Absurd

Blind Fortune“What is fortune?” I ask the Web of Answers.

 

“The Fortune Society’s mission is to support successful reentry from prison and promote alternatives to incarceration, thus strengthening the fabric of our communities.”

—http://fortunesociety.org/learn-more/what-is-fortune/

 

Fortune is freedom; freedom is fortune. Only—

 

“A Buddha is someone who finds freedom in good fortune and bad.”

—Bodidharma

 

Fortune is the ability to learn repercussions of poor actions in a constructive manner. Holding people in jails teaches people how to live in jail. Allowing people to do nothing with their lives teaches them how to do nothing with their lives.

 

“Fortune cannot aid those who do nothing.”

—Sophocles

 

Fortune is the ability to be integrated into— to become one with the whole of— one’s society and community. Fortune is to feel accepted. However, most often in our society, fortune is thought of as monetary wealth; with money, we are instantly accepted in one way or another. Where and when goes fortune goes luck.

 

“No one is truly free, they are a slave to wealth, fortune, the law, or other people restraining them from acting according to their will.” 

—Euripides

 

“Fortune” can be read as luck, fate, destiny, karma, serendipity, chance, or accident. These are words that we have attached to circumstances where success or failure is brought on by something other than our own direct action. The action may be imperceptible; the origin of the action may be unknown. Maybe, maybe. So, if success or failure is brought on by something other than our own action and we are slave to the turns of fortunes wheel that keeps us from acting according to our own will, are freedom and fortune mutually exclusive?

 

“We do not know what is really good or bad fortune.” 

—Jean-Jacques Rousseau 

 

 

Blind, Fortune doles out gifts and punishments with no regard to person. Though Fortune cannot see what Fortune does, this does not stop the wheel from rolling! The result is seeming randomness.

 

“Fortune rules the affairs of men at random and, blind, she hands out her gifts.”

—Seneca

 

We are Fortune; we are the Wheel, and we are ultimately blind in to actions. No matter how much we try to see the world around us, no matter how aware we try to be of how we treat our environs, we are ultimately blind. Despite this, we are not freed from the responsibility of our actions. Blinded, we hand stars to others, blind. Thus we are bound to the Wheel of Fortune, and thus the wheel rolls on.

 

Thursday, September 20th, 2012

The High Priestess — Tarot of the Absurd

Book of KnowledgeThe High Priestess represents wisdom, knowledge and understanding. She holds the key to access the realm of the unconscious— the dreamworld— the underworld of the self. She learns by crawling into the book of knowledge, becoming that which needs to be known, learning by experience. She is the first to travel her chosen path. She learns her way intimately, then guides others by teaching us to do as she has. Along the way she tells us, “Listen. Listen to yourself. Pay attention. Be accountable for your decisions. Listen.” Her intuition is high. Her self-knowledge is deep. She does not waste her attention on superficial things.

 

The High Priestess reminds me of the goddess Inanna. Inanna’s tale is the story of how mortals received the traditions of the gods. It is the story of the disembodying journey to one’s dark side and the sacrifices that must be made to return. It the story of the hero’s journey through the realms that souls traverse during sleep and after death. Inanna walked to the underworld of her unconscious to confront her dark side, bound to the world of the living solely by faith in her spiritual self. Like Inanna into the underworld, into this book of wisdom the High Priestess crawls.

 

—A Very Abbreviated Tale of the Goddess Inanna—

 

Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth, daughter of the Moon and sister of the Sun, stole by trickery the gifts from the gods that awaken the human mind and provide the morals, laws, customs, arts, and sciences of civilized life. These are the attributes of civilization, both positive and negative. Instead of leaving such gifts in sole charge of the gods, Inanna shared with humankind all that she had acquired. 

 

Inanna’s favorite gift was the power of making decisions. Knowing the other gifts is worthless without this power— the power of will, initiative, and independence. By using the gifts that Inanna brought from Heaven, people are able to enrich and ennoble their lives, bringing divine harmony to Earth.

 

Long afterward— after she married and her two sons had grown to manhood— Inanna descended into the underworld to visit Ereshkigal, her dark sister, her sinister side, queen of the underworld. Ereshkigal’s husband had recently died. Inanna went to console her.

 

Inanna brought with her seven holy gifts from seven cities, embodying them into herself. She dressed herself in her seven royal garments and descended. She was stripped of each one of her seven garments at the seven gates until she reached the innermost chamber of the underworld— the darkest corner of her being— where the seven judges past judgment against her.

 

And Ereshkigal fastened the eye of death upon her sister. Inanna, crucified by her own destiny, turned to a corpse that hung like meat from on a hook on the wall. There she remained for three days and three nights until Ninshubur, Inanna’s constant companion and spiritual self, went for help.

 

Deeply grieved, father Enki took pity. He scraped dirt from under his fingernails and made two creatures which he sent to the underworld like flies. When they heard Ereshkigal moaning with childbirth, they were to moan with her. Thus, they did. Ereshkigal, comforted by their sympathy, offered them a gift. They asked for Inanna’s corpse from the hook on the wall. Ereshkigal gave it.

 

Following Enki’s instruction, the creatures sprinkled the corpse with food and water of life. Thus Inanna arose, born anew, as if from the childbirth pangs of her dark sister, goddess of the underworld.

 

The judges who had stripped Inanna of her self insisted she provide a substitute if she was to leave the underworld. She refused to leave her servant and spiritual self, Ninshubur. She refused to leave one or the other of her sons. When she arrived home where her husband Dumuzi was sitting on his throne and he was to busy to acknowledge Inanna’s arrival, Inanna gave him up to death.

 

Of course Inanna missed Dumuzi greatly when he was gone, as did his sister Geshtinanna and his mother. All were inconsolable. In their grief, wintery desolation filled the land.

 

Time past. Inanna and Geshtinanna found Dumuzi weeping where his corpse lay. Inanna took his hand, and there a pact was made: Dumuzi and his sister would split the time spent in the underworld, half a year each. here would be half a year of barrenness and rest, half a year of abundance. So it is. And so it is. And so it is said.

Monday, September 17th, 2012

Ace of Cups — Tarot of the Absurd

 

Catherine Shanahan

Physician, Heal Thyself

 

 

The Ace of Cups contains the beginning of all things emotional and creative. It is the initiation of love, happiness and compassion— or— ill-favored— their opposites. In order for the positive aspects of these concepts to enter one’s life, one must begin with the self. A huge cup is offered. We are invited to drink from it. The drink is the realization of the self.

 

Yourself. Myself. Himself and herself. One’s own self. It is only when we are able to love ourselves— not in a self-righteous or selfish way but in a forgiving and compassionate way— that the door opens for us to love and in turn be loved by others. Creative expression is the ability to share our inner experience with others. The ace of cups gives us the opportunity to realize this— to make it real.

 

“You can’t change the world. The best thing you can do is change yourself.”

—Mahatma Gandhi

Thursday, August 16th, 2012

The Fool — Tarot of the Absurd

Tarot Fool Meaning

The fool has been sitting on my desktop for a few weeks now, waiting for an entry. At last I am ready. For those who have not noticed, I identify with the fool. In the tarot deck, I relate the fool to the concept of beginner’s mind—

 

 “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.”

     —Zen Master Shunryo Suzuki

 

Beginner’s mind is useful to help us learn. There is a famous zen story—

 

Empty Your Cup

A university professor went to visit a famous Zen master. While the master quietly served tea, the professor talked about Zen. The master poured the visitor’s cup to the brim, and then kept pouring. The professor watched the overflowing cup until he could no longer restrain himself. “It’s overfull! No more will go in!” the professor blurted. “You are like this cup,” the master replied, “How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup.” 

 

The Major Arcana can be viewed as the story of Fool’s journey through life. The Fool, at the beginning of his journey, has unlimited potential. With a mind uncluttered by knowledge, he is ready to learn. Anything can happen. Opportunities await. The Fool does not mind the lack of concrete plan. The only thing he knows is that he is ignorant of what lies ahead. He looks at the world with curiosity and wonder, takes risks, and has faith. Thus, the Fool goes blindly forward.

 

In the process of trying to print this deck, I have played the Fool, as has my printer. Both of us have learned a lot. Both of us have lost a bit.

 

I gave him the specs for what I want. He said up front, “I can do it.” He had a very positive attitude. So I had faith. I learned about layout for printing. I learned about paper, offset vs. digital printing, inks, the use of dies vs. cutting machines for corner rounding, machine error, and about thoroughly double-checking a proof before moving forward. And even tho he has been in the business for many years, he learned a lot about many of the same things.

 

After much effort, we thought we were at a place where my decks could be printed. I gave him a lot of money. He purchased paper. Then, something went wrong. The ink chips off the paper during cutting and corner rounding. The machine error is just a bit too great for the tightness of the design of the cards. In order to avoid an apparent break in the cards, the corners of the decks must be rounded by a machine he does not own.  Thus far, I have invested a huge amount of time and money and seen nothing worth keeping. Four months later, we are back to square one. In order to eliminate the above problems, the decks will perhaps cost me 30% more than the original estimate.

 

For those of you who have purchased a deck and are wondering where your money went, where your deck is, and whether I have absconded to Quebec to learn French and have my nails done, I apologize. I’m still in Vermont, my French is horrible, and my nails could use a little work. Plus, the deck is still on pre-sale with free shipping until the end of the month! If I quit now, I’m out more money than anyone, and all this new-found knowledge will have gone to waste.

 

The printer looked so sad after my visit yesterday. He felt, perhaps, the Fool inverted. The deck will be beautiful. I will be proud. You will see.

Sunday, August 12th, 2012

Piatnik-Wien Three-Card Read

I am trying to learn to read tarot cards with unillustrated pips (minors) by merely reflecting on the geometry and colors and whatnot scribbles in the card. My favorite is the Tarot Piatnik Wien, which has beautifully colored un-illustrated pips.

 

I ask the deck to help me free my mind and learn to read unillustrated pips my own way. I draw at random one card for study. Valet de Baton. I am looking for numbers only, no people, so I draw another card. Valet de Denier. My third card gives me Troi de Epees, so I stop here and lay them out in a row.

 

Three of Swords

 

The Valet de Baton wears his fancy buttoned uniform in a field of flowers. The colors are warm. He kind-of reminds me of a British redcoat. He seems as if he is pondering something, tho not something unpleasant. According to the dictionary (one of my favorite references,) a valet is a man’s male servant who performs personal services. I think of batons as sticks. Sticks are natural things that come in all shapes and sizes. They are no longer living. This man is the Valet of Sticks, so he performs personal services for the natural world and those who love it. He likes to be outside doing stuff, but because he is immature, he does not have a great sense of direction in life in terms of what he wants. He knows what he should do, and he knows what is in his line of work, so, in general, he does what he is told. But because he loves the natural world so much, he also loves to explore. This leads him wandering down unexplored paths at inopportune times.

 

The Valet de Denier wears his fancy flower-embroidered uniform near a diamonded fence. He is a young man who performs services for money. Any blue collar worker (and he is blue indeed) can relate to this. He holds a big coin in his hand as if to say, “Hey! I just got my paycheck!” I think he is eager to learn what kinds of things he can do to make money. Until he matures, he might not care so much about the ethical side of the work he becomes engaged in. He knows that money is powerful but he isn’t sure why.

 

The Troi de Epees is black with a yellow border, as are all the epees in this deck. I call them blades. The backgrounds of the blades remind me of chalkboards, and the squiggly designs remind me physics equations or something I can’t comprehend.

 

What this says to me about my ability to read pips intuitively is this:

 

Like the Valet de Baton, I often run off into the woods without a proscribed trail. I do like to follow trails, one after another, but I do not know where I am going and I don’t necessarily care. I simply enjoy the woods.

 

Like the Valet de Denier, I hope to find a tiny bit of worldly success off what I do. But the success I will have at relating to plain pips in a worldly manner without outside influence will be mighty small. However, I know an awful lot and I can learn put it to use.

 

Finally, if I expect to be able to find insight using the pips alone without outside reference whatsoever, I will find nothing but blackness, indecipherable scribbles, and frustration illustrated on the Troi de Epees. This is but a small failure: a normal, every-day failure that occurs when one is not interested enough in the task at hand.

Sunday, August 5th, 2012

Who is Dan Shanahan?

Dan ShanahanMy brother Dan (see Dan’s Room) has a show in the Shelburne Library here in Vermont.
I went to the library to take pictures of his show.
The pictures I took are horrible: basically reflections of the lights.
 
 
While I was there I met two old ladies talking.
“Are you the artist?” one asked.
“No, she’s not,” answered the other.
“I’m his sister,” I said.
“This is great!” says the one.
“We’re both artists,” says the other. “I do dogs.”
“You had the last show,” I said, trying to sound intelligent, which I am.
She nodded.
“Does he publish?” asked the other.
“No,” I said, “Did you read his statement over there?”
“Yes,” she said.
“It says he’s never published a thing.”
“But he should illustrate books!” argued one.
“I agree,” I said.
“Or magazines,” said the other. “Surely he’s been in magazines.”
I reminded them of the bio.
“Surely, tho, we thought he must have been published somewhere,” said one or the other old lady.
“No,” I said.
“On line,” she said, “He’s published on line.”
“I would like him to put more pictures on my website,” I said.
“I like the woman and the spiders,” said one. “It reminds me of Little Miss Muffet.”
“He sells prints,” I said, “Only $25 dollars, with a mat and everything.”
“Oh, the time to sell art was in the eighties,” says an old lady. The other nodded.
“He was in high-school in the eighties,” I explained.
“Well, the time to sell art was in the eighties,” says the one.
“The eighties,” says the other.
“Nice to meet you,” says the one.
“Tell your brother he should illustrate books,” says the other.
 
So, anyhow. There you have it. We missed out. It was the eighties, the fabulous eighties.
There will never again be any time like the eighties in America.
My brother Dan has lots of excellent pictures.
He sells his prints for only $25, with a mat and everything.
I want him to put more pictures on my site.
Saturday, August 4th, 2012

Seven of Cups — Tarot of the Absurd

fantasy

 

Fantasy, illusion, imagination, wishful-thinking, choices: these are the meanings of the Seven of Cups. Fantasy represents something unattainable or unrealistic. Illusion is seeing something in the world that is not there. Imagination is useful for coming up with things that have never before been done: new solutions to problems or representing things in a new manner. And wishful-thinking often results in poor choices.

 

 •   •   •

 

I showed the picture to an acquaintance named Joe. He asked what it was about.
“Fantasy,” I replied, succinctly.
“Do you always fantasize about dragons?” he asked.
I shook my head and frowned. “No, never.”

 

He didn’t get it, and he wasn’t interested. He wasn’t interested in what went on in other’s heads and how they viewed the world. He wasn’t interested in symbols and meanings that were different than his own. It was pointless to argue or explain anything to him. He had majored in philosophy long ago in college. It seemed the outcome of his education was the philosophy (Fantasy—? Illusion—? Imagination—? Wishful-thinking—? Choice to believe—? ) that if he argued long & hard enough with someone, he could always bring that person around to see the world in the righteous way of Joe. A person could tell him a story from their own life and if Joe didn’t believe it, that person was wrong. I never argued with him or explained myself. It was pointless.

 

People generally use imagination to fantasize about sex or coming into money or sex or building a huge addition on their house or sex or throttling their boss or sex or drugs or a cigarette or being famous at whatever, and these things are all more or less realistic, tho at times highly improbable. All fantasy is based on reality, even fantastic worlds in works of fiction. The more fantastic a created world is— made-up words, different forces of gravity, never-before-described beings, strange customs, etc.— the more difficult it is for others to relate to that world. In order to be able to appreciate something, we need to be able to relate to it. 100% pure fantasy is actually hard to come by. Abstract art is close. This is why extreme abstraction in art took a while to accept: society did not have a basis on which to relate to the artist’s imagination. With years of practice, we’re coming around.

 

Have I ever fantasized about dragons? No, never, tho I’m sure plenty people do. I used to fantasize that I owned a flying horse who would come down from the sky when I called his name. I would run to him and he would carry me up in the sky, far, far away from school. As the years wore on, it became more and more difficult for me to imagine unrealistic things like growing wings and walking on air. I grew up.

 

My fantasies turned to somewhat realistic things that I wished to attain. My imagination tumbled over creative ways to achieve my goals. This is a mature use of imagination. Making the same mistake over and over and imagining we’re getting somewhere; thinking we can always win an argument if we just argue long enough; believing we have the one and only correct view point; remaining captive to addiction and thinking it does not harm us; and generally falling prey to intoxication and escapism is immature use of imagination.

 

I chose to draw dragons because I see dragons as representational of fantasy. Dragons sitting around drinking tea with politely lifted pinkies? Pure fantasy, impersonal, and kinda sweet.

Tuesday, July 31st, 2012

Ten of Sticks — Tarot of the Absurd

Upright: hard work, great achievement, burden of responsibility, stress

 

The man in the image has harvested a crop that he has worked hard to grow. His goal has been achieved, but his responsibility has not lessened. The bounteous harvest is no easier to carry than the fields were to work. Lest he lose everything he has invested, he needs to move on to the next part of business and sell his ware. Unfortunately, there are not enough people to help him market the load. There is, perhaps, a more efficient way to accomplish his task than to do it all himself. Unfortunately, although he was quite inspired to create a boon of goods, he remains quite uninspired as to how to lighten his load. There are two main ways to go about it: (1) drop some (2) ask for help. Hopefully he does not turn full-face and make someone else do all the work.

 

*   *   *

 

When I lived in Fairbanks, AK, I biked everywhere, year-round. When I went shopping, I carried groceries home on my back. One time, I bought a bunch of groceries, loaded my bike, and then decided to check out what was on sale at the craft store. They were selling mis-measured picture frames for five and ten bucks each. So I bought a bunch of very fancy frames. Quite a few, really. Some were very very large.

 

Thus, my backpack was over-loaded with groceries, I had about eight picture frames tied to the outside of the bag, and I had a dozen eggs strapped to the top of the bike rack. I started to bike home through the snow. Only ten miles to go! I could do it. I knew I could. There was no doubt in my mind that I could do it. I’d carried heavier. I’d biked through deeper snow. I could do it.

 

Of course, I didn’t have to. There was nothing to prove to anyone. Not even to myself. I called a cab. It felt real good, calling that cab.