Changing things…slowly.

I’ve been reevaluating myself lately. Moving puts a lot of things into perspective – among those things, tarot cards. I’ve been more drawn to ‘reading’ decks than ‘art’ decks lately, wanting to get back into it and know the difference. So I’ve been all about the Rider-Waite-Smith clones and the like, seeking tradition and easily recognizable images to get myself back in the fold. It is nice to be reading again. But I soon realized that I had to strike a balance between aesthetics and functionality – because as good as the RWS and its variants are for reading (the original, the Connolly and perhaps the Morgan Greer, to name a few I’ve used lately), they all feel the same to me after a while, and I long for something…unique. Enter the rest of my tarot collection. It’s been somewhat of an art choosing decks that I find artistically beautiful and worthy of serious study, in terms of reading or otherwise.

So to complicate things further, I’ve decided I’d like to get back into reading professionally. Well. Suddenly my carefully chosen, aesthetically pleasing reading/study decks seem a little intimidating. I suspect it will take me a while to get used to the idea of reading for others again (especially in person), but regardless I find myself longing for the simplicity of those traditional images to prevent myself from experiencing mind-block in the middle of a reading – an always-present fear. But then I think, how much of it is irrational?  I think it wise for me to experiment with a variety of decks, both for work and play, until I decide for sure on that one.

In defense of aesthetics, I’ve recently been attempting to put one of my long-professed favourites to actual use (shocking that all this time, I haven’t): Japanese artist Evan Yi Feng’s Lunatic Tarot (card edition). When the portfolio edition first came out, I couldn’t take my eyes off it – its sexy Lolita style, sepia tones, character-driven aesthetic. I was among the first to purchase the card edition, it being much more suitable for reading…and yet, I hardly touched the thing – wasn’t really sure if I even expected myself to. But with all these issues I got to thinking – it’s one of my favourites. Shouldn’t I give it a chance? So I did. I don’t remember the first few cards drawn (at around the time I was selecting reading/study decks just before my move), but they were shockingly straight-forward and cutting – among them the 8 of Discs. I certainly couldn’t think of anything more fitting of my situation than this man working heavily and to perfection, investing emotional and physical energy in tasks that required a lot of it – even putting the finishing touches on things, as was I (painting, patching the pinholes in my walls). At that point, I remember agreeing to use it. After arriving in Hanover (a few days in) I drew some more cards near the end of a long, hard day, all with a similar feel. The boyfriend had been working long and late, and I’d made the commitment to stick it out in the building with him for company and moral support whilst utilizing the nearby computers. A trying 15-hour day for all concerned. Yes, 15 hours – though no doubt worse for him. The first card I drew was the 10 of Wands, and I couldn’t think of anything more fitting for such a long, burdensome day. Upon asking what I could do for Matt I drew the 7 of Discs – a card of waiting, and patience as a road to fruitful endings (or beginnings). I asked then what he needed the most and drew Temperance, a similar card of patience, and perhaps more importantly, balance in all areas of life. This is definitely the most important thing he needs – something we all need.

Wish me luck with the upcoming readings. I’ll keep you posted on my progress.

The One.

For my first post (#1) I would like to discuss the prospect of the #1 tarot deck (very seldom the first). There are many reasons people collect tarot cards. Some are readers, and some are not. Some collect them for the art, and some collect them simply to collect them. And there is no one definitive person who collects, or reads, or muses on the system: some are religious, some are not. Some are Pagan, some are Buddhist, some are devout Catholic or Mormon or Islamic or Hindu or Atheist. Some are in between, and some are somewhere else – in fact, everywhere: Australia, Canada, Britain, India, America, China, the Czech Republic, and elsewhere. I have encountered these people time and time again since I began my tarot hobby 8 years ago. Some readers have thousands of decks, while some have only one.

When I started tarot, I had one deck, which lasted me a good couple of years. During that time, I used it often – shuffling, drawing, spreading, reading, musing, learning and loving it. It turned a dusty grey around the outer edges within months just from the handling, the kind of grey that makes a tarot reader smile and adore their craft. Smudges from oily fingerprints, no matter how often one washes their hands before use; faded streaks so multiple that their pattern becomes uniform and all that’s left is one. You know the faces of everyone in it, their personalities, their habits. You know their world and their thoughts. They are you, and you are them; you know they can be trusted.

I now have what is considered to be a somewhat modest collection by some: over 50 tarot and oracle decks. Not one of those decks, since the very first, shuffles like my Hudes Tarot. Not one of them has greying edges, a reader’s bend, or a heart to match. I love them all, for different reasons, each with its own aesthetic appeal. But I didn’t start collecting to collect. I, like many other tarot enthusiasts, began as a reader, and did just that – read. I only needed one deck. But as most will tell you – namely those cursed with the glory of the world of tarot and the Aeclectic Tarot Forum – at some point, it stops being about that one deck…and starts being about the one deck. The one. Like significant others, among millions and billions (or thousands, in terms of tarot decks), the one you hope will melt your heart and satisfy you unduly. We’ve all been victims, and for the most part, loved it. I admit, I still do.

Oh look, this one has gold gilt edges – just like a fine, old-fashioned book. This one is full of Da Vinci paintings – my word! And Klimt, and Botticelli! And this one has cats – I love them – and here, this one’s so lifelike…the people are almost real! Look at the colours in these…these masterpieces; they remind me of my childhood, my religion, my muse…myself. They all remind me of me. Here we have silver foil – the decadence! Fabulous CG, or my favourite animé. This one’s designed from fabric scraps – how clever – and this one’s based on blacksmithing! How do I choose? Why bother? They’re gorgeous. I think I’ll take them all. Wait, I’m sure to love this one. It feels so right. How could I not want to read with it?

And what happens? We wait, and wring our little hands, and when the package comes, we admire it, forget it, put it on a bookshelf or tuck it away in its little box – then find another that’s lustworthy. Sometimes we don’t touch them for months, or years; sometimes we trade them away. It’s filler. It’s pointless. There is no ONE.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t collect. I’m not saying we shouldn’t lust. But we should always know why we’re doing it. I’m tired of looking for the perfect deck – as with anything worthy of love, a perfect example doesn’t exist. It sounds obvious, but we do it anyway. Maybe the rest are all perfect to look at – and for collectors, that’s perfectly fine. But for those of us who want to read, contently and monogamously, the perfect deck is the one that’s acknowledged, tested, loved and used again. And again. And again. And again. Behold, the answers – the glorious answers! – the trustworthy faces, the little grey traces. The love, the connection; the usefulness. Don’t we ever get tired of being promiscuous? Whoever made progress not trying?