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Showing posts with label wands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wands. Show all posts

6.03.2010

Sketchbook - Three of Wands

Three of Wands


Whenever my family took long drives through the country during my childhood -- which was often, since we actually lived in the country -- I would gaze tirelessly out the window at the utility poles going by. They seemed like living things to me, enormous kachinas strolling across the landscape and waving at us with rigid arms as we passed. Even the simpler ones like the ones in my sketch held my fascination; stretching out as far as I could see in either direction, they created a thread of continuity across the wild desert.

The poles and the railway tracks above ultimately serve the same function: continuity and follow-through, connectivity and opportunity. They are worldwide symbols of power, evolution, and commerce. I threw in a handful of stars above to light the way, to temper the conceit that feeds off of our forward momentum, and to remind us of the true power out there that inspires but simultaneously dwarfs our own.

Our dreams often carry us forward at the expense of others. Indeed, we often even double-cross ourselves along the way, such is our ambition. You can follow the winding paths of the poles and tracks to get to the next civilized outpost; in the meantime the stars are your moral compass, by which to judge your true position in the cosmos at any given moment.


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5.13.2010

Sketchbook - Six of Wands

Sketchbook - Six of Wands


Let's add this to the list of things I'd never have heard of it wasn't for my partner. Fasces are an emblem or design motif that you've probably seen everywhere, without knowing they were. "It's like a bundle of sticks," Tex told me. "Wait," I said, "Don't you mean faggot?"

No, it turns out. He patiently went on to explain that this symbol for victory and strength is where we get the term fascism. The core idea is that a bundle is harder to break than a single stick. "AH," I said, "Like that monologue of Richard Farnsworth's in The Straight Story!" Yes, exactly -- only sometimes there's an axe or arrow blade nestled in there too, to show you mean business.


It was good timing -- I just so happened to have drawn the Six of Wands as my next sketching project. I felt like I was cheating, resorting to an actually well-known symbol for success and achievement, but at least I learned something new. Also, while I sat in the park sketching, a butterfly landed on my knee and stayed there for several minutes. I'm pretty sure it was a monarch.



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5.01.2010

Sketchbook - Eight of Wands

Sketchbook - Eight of Wands


I
started off with the best of intentions. After days of contemplating appropriate Eight of Wands imagery, I was inspired by the vague "Here we come to save the day!" quality of its staffs and decided to find something truly useful for them to do.

So you know how in zombie movies people are always busting up the chifforobe or whatever so they can board up the windows? What could be more providentially useful than that?

But you know, once I had it all sketched I realized that this is one creepy-looking card. The Eight is usually described as sudden news or developments that disrupt the game already in progress, possibly tipping the scales in your favor -- anyone who draws this one in a reading is bound to overlook the ever-helpful boards and focus instead on the onslaught of shambling revenants. That's just not right.

It does, however, offer an interesting visual counterpoint to the Seven I sketched just a couple weeks ago. The little hammer-wielding Morlocks seem to have grown almost overnight into a inhuman street gang, hellbent on revenge! Though once you easily overwhelmed your adversaries, now they overwhelm you right back. The Eight's intervention is no deus ex machina, but it will hopefully buy you just enough time to fix the radio, hunker down in the basement, or top off your Molotov cocktails.


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4.19.2010

Sketchbook - Five of Wands

Sketchbook - Five of Wands

To illustrate the competitive and combative spirit of the Five of Wands, here are five crane-claws in one all vying for a single plush toy. It's hard enough to win this game when you're playing it alone, so adding others into the mix would only tangle things up considerably, especially if you were all focused on the same prize.

I think the triviality of this game is also important to note. These kinds of failures (or even victories) provide no useful commentary on your actual abilities, and the results of gameplay have no lasting effects on the arc of your personal development. Apply that reasoning to whatever exciting/frustrating/distracting games you're getting caught up in lately and you'll wind up taking things a lot less personally. In the meantime, you should still play to win:




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4.14.2010

Sketchbook - Seven of Wands

Sketchbook - Seven of Wands


Without really meaning to, I seem to have drawn a sort of arcade-style mirror version of the RWS Seven of Wands. Actually, I choose to believe that what you see below is a historically accurate portrayal of Whack-a-Mole as it was played in the 16th century:


I love Pamela Coleman-Smith's version because anyone can read it just by looking at it, yet no two people will see quite the same thing. It evokes at a story you can relate to, without explaining what that story is. That is the essence of a good Tarot card.

My drawing is unfortunately just a cheeky sort of update on the same notions of rivalry, competition, and being outnumbered. Obviously in the great Whack-a-Mole game of life, we all like to think of ourselves as Player 1, squishy mallet held high against hordes of goofy talpidae. But there's no getting around the fact that sometimes, we are the mole.

That's not a value judgment -- after all, sometimes the moles win the day. But the greatest power lies in understanding exactly what game you're playing and what team you're on, and acting accordingly -- regardless of what game you'd like to be playing, or what team you'd like to be on. "Pay attention and face reality or get knocked on your ass" ought to be right up there with gravity in the pantheon of natural laws.

(In this particular game, I am giving myself bonus nerd points for incorporating an emoticon into a pen-and-pencil sketch.)



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4.02.2010

Sketchbook - Nine of Wands

Sketchbook - Nine of Wands


During my first year of community college, a professor told my Psych 101 class that there were certain simple evaluations that clinics used to quickly determine whether or not a person might be suffering from mental problems. One of these, he claimed, was to look at someone's keyring and see how many keys were kept on it. The more keys they carried with them at all times, the more likely they were to have an illness of some kind.

(Remember, I did say this was a community college.)

Anyhow, I believe this was supposed to be a sign of obsessive behavior, or perhaps the sort of painfully inflated sense of responsibility or self-importance that a troubled person might have. I've never looked at my own keyring the same way since. Right now I have six keys, which I'm sure is well within the safe zone.

I do wind up picking up spare and scrap keys all the time, though. I find them all over the city, on the sidewalk and such. I kept a bunch of them in a coffee can until finally one day I decided to see if they'd make any sort of music as a wind-chime. I'm happy to report that keys are in fact quite musical. So then I went down to a locksmith and asked them if they had any scraps that they weren't doing anything with, and before I knew it, by entire backyard was lousy with wind-chimes. At least my keyring is normal!

Windchimes


The Nine of Wands is a strong reminder that you already possess everything necessary to ensure your success and stoke your confidence. Keys also happen to be symbols of influence, inspiration, and access -- the more you have, the fewer doors that can be shut against you. Keep too many of them, however, and you'll never be able to find the one you're looking for when you need it most. Bravery and prosperity only become a burden when the weight of them becomes too great for one to bear alone; I recommend finding a creative outlet for these blessings while they are still well within your grasp.




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4.01.2010

Sketchbook - Four of Wands

Sketchbook - Four of Wands


I'm not that interested in making my cards especially literal. You know, I didn't cram ten actual cups in the Ten of Cups, and so forth. And yet I think it would be self-indulgent to just draw whatever random thing pops into my head. I don't want to "force" an image to work, if I can help it.

Anyhow, this one took some pondering. I though I'd able to come up with four Wands-y looking objects pretty easily. You don't even want to know what sort of things I considered in my desperation. The Four of Wands, much like the Four of Swords, represents a brief lull or pause in one's relentless progress. Specifically, it is a time of celebration, rejuvenation, or homecoming. Think of the Vikings coming home from a long pillage, and how good that must have felt -- sure, there may also be some dead to mourn or some chores to tend to, but being able to do this in one's own time and space is practically a luxury after all that roaming and fighting.

Anyhow, I finally settled on just one wand. But it has four modes, and that's quite handy for illustrating the restraint you're encouraged to enjoy at this time. After all, "Park" implies that you intend to sit here for a while or maybe even shut down completely, and both "Drive" and "Reverse" are antithetical to appreciating exactly where you're at right now.

For now, "Neutral" will take you everywhere you need to go.




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2.22.2010

Sketchbook - Ten of Wands

Sketchbook - Ten of Wands

I brought paper to work today so I could work on a sketch if I had time -- but once I got there, I realized I'd forgotten to pick a card to work on. So I called my friend Chris, and he drew one for me, and I knew what I'd be drawing the moment I heard what it was.

I work a few days a week at a restaurant around the corner from my house. My work schedule is really wonderful for my creative life (not to mention this blog), but on the days I work, I work insanely hard for hours and hours. And while today was certainly one of those days, I stole a few moments here and there to sketch it as it happened.

The Ten of Wands is all about work and he humility it imposes, even upon the successful. Most decks seem to have taken their inspiration for this card from Pamela Coleman-Smith's version. I merely adapted its message to my actual job, showing some of the complications that I deal with from one moment to the next, or even all at once. It's a burden that I bear gladly right now because of what it allows me to do, and it's one that I've deliberately engineered, but still -- yikes. It can be physically and mentally ruinous.

The Ten card in any suit represents fulfillment of some earlier idea -- at this point, you've gone about as far as you can on the track you're on. If you stay on it you're just going to keep going in circles. Some might consider them victory laps, others might say it's a holding pattern. Some are just building up the courage to launch themselves into the next challenge, and some are just killing time and waiting for the future to reveal itself to them.

In my case it's all of the above. It's getting me where I need to go. So I'll continue to serve brunch and wipe down tables and take phone orders. I'll continue to spend that first quiet hour setting up the dining room as if I'm throwing a huge party, and to spend the seven hours after that scrambling around like a whole hill of ants. At the very least, being embroiled in all this is a constant reminder of what I originally set out to do. If I was able to pick it up in the first place, I must be strong enough to carry it just a little bit further.

PS: Our phone totally doesn't have one of those old-fashioned receivers like the one in the picture, but cordless phones aren't interesting to draw in the slightest. And the flowers are carnations, they're for the bud vases on our tables.



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2.18.2010

Sketchbook - Ace of Wands


Ugh. Well, I'm happy to have moved on to the next sketch, but I have issues with this one.

First of all, when I cut the cards and then drew this one, my first instinct was to pick another one instead. After all, just yesterday I drew the Two of Wands, and I was hoping for a little more variety in my life. So I went ahead and picked the next card from the stack -- and it was the fricking Two of Wands again. So clearly I just needed to stop whining and start drawing.

I was pretty happy with some of the detail here, and while the concept isn't terribly original, I still think it communicates something about the card. Unfortunately all I can see right now is that I have drawn my second disembodied hand in two days. I need to be a little more fearless when it comes to choosing what to portray, lest we end up trapped here:


Just when I became proud of myself for making it look like this new hand was actually supporting the cupcake (I was a little disappointed yesterday that my chopsticks weren't being gripped -- they just sort of dangled there lifelessly), I realized that the hand is still pretty much even in the same position as the one in the Two. As lazy as that may seem, maybe it's also an interesting comment on the relationship between these two cards. The Two takes that burst of energy and potential and does something with it. No major adjustment necessary, it's pure follow-through.

In this case at least, there's way more thematic precedent for the disembodied-hand trick. That's sort of what I was thinking when I started sketching it out. I don't plan to hew very closely to the RWS deck from here on, but in the very beginning I can't help keeping things as simple as possible.

I think I unconsciously hit on the cupcake idea because of this thread on MetaFilter about "cupcakes for men". (Can't get any more phallic than this one, boys!) I left the banner deliberately blank, thinking that it might symbolize all that is unwritten and unforeseen in bold new leap into the future. Looking at the scanned version, however, the whole card seems eerily... empty. I need to get braver about filling in all that space -- it's totally all mine to fill. Like, if someone tells you to blow out the candle and make a wish, you don't wish for all the sorts of things you could obtain pretty easily. You make the biggest, most shameless wish you can imagine!

I guess if nothing else, this page turned out to be a one-card reading about this whole sketchbook thing. Going forward, I'll try to inject more of that Ace intensity into my drawing and get a little messy.



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2.17.2010

Sketchbook - Two of Wands

Sketchbook - Two of Wands

I haven't spent any significant amount of time drawing in many years, and that makes me sad. So for my new regular Tarot meditation, I'll be drawing one card from the deck and then literally drawing it, making up a new version on the spot based on whatever's in my head at the time. I'll try to spend no more than about a half hour doing each one, so don't expect anything fancy.

Today I pulled the Two of Wands. I thought of the chopsticks right away because, well, I was sitting in a bubble-tea cafe at the time. In fact, I pretty much completely lifted the hand/chopsticks outline from the instructions on the little paper wrapper that my real chopsticks came in, though I added plenty of my own touches.

I liked the idea of the two "wands" being tools you might use in tandem to select, grapple with, or manipulate something. From there, I surprised myself by gravitating thematically toward the Waite-Smith version of the card, in which a baron of some kind surveys his territory and dreams of owning more, MORE. These chopsticks couldn't just be chasing after some crispy radish fritter or deep-fried cuttlefish ball -- it had to be the world, or at least one specific world out of many. Ultimately I guess I was trying to show someone in perfect possession of their own faculties, setting their sights on a desired outcome and then scooping it up with ease and self-assurance. Mmmmm...

(Or maybe unconsciously I was thinking of this:)

Mo'Niqualypse II



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1.13.2010

"Perhaps You Are That Messenger..."


I'm pretty sure I know what my next destination is. How do I get there, now?

Looking at the concept artwork for Kolelinia, the transportation revolution designed by architect Martin Angelov, I look forward to a time (however far-off) when I can depart from the road and glide through the air on my own steam. Maybe it's nothing but an elegant dream that will never exist in real life, but if you've ever risked a bike ride through city traffic, you probably got the same giddy feeling looking at this thing that I did. The concept scratches an unconscious itch in the hearts of bicycle commuters, it captures the imagination and shows us how fast things can change.

If you look at the diagrams, you'll see how it's supposed to work -- the bike tire fits in a deep groove that keeps you balanced perfectly upright as you zip along, your handlebar secured from the side to prevent any wobbling. I can't help fantasizing about crossing the East River this way -- it's way more exciting than the water taxi.

Consider the Eight of Wands as a messenger already in flight, on its way to present you with news, inspiration, or 11th hour revelations. Or perhaps you are that messenger, calibrating yourself to land perfectly in the right place and time to alter the course of events for others. Either way, the lines are open and the wheels are in motion. Keep your eyes on the skies, work those thighs, and don't forget to moisturize. Okay I'll stop now. But you get the point -- the wind that blows at your back is pushing you forward, and the wind that blows in your face bears traces of what is to come. Use them both. [Via]



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12.29.2009

"Damn The Gods!"


There seems to have been a lot of uproar about Warner Bros.' decision to remake creaky old Clash of the Titans, even though everyone knows it's only considered a classic because of Ray Harryhausen's spectacular low-tech special effects. I'm a Harryhausen fan myself, and honestly I don't think even he would mind seeing "realistic" CGI effects used to spruce up the myth-inspired dragshow that is Clash.

The overuse of digital effects is typically one of my biggest complaints about new movies, but when it comes to incredibly expensive, incredibly trivial pieces of pop-cultural ephemera like this one, I can't help but become 9 again. Giant scorpions! Evil gorgons! I want to see them. For a little point/counterpoint action, here are the trailers for both the original and the remake:





As opposed to some of the inexcusable and out-of-left-field remake attempts (stuff like The Pink Panther or the announced remake of Hitchcock's The Birds) the new Clash is arguably a true update -- we have experienced a real special-effects revolution in the twenty-*ahem* years since it was made, and the trailers certainly showcase the difference. As to whether it will effectively upstage its predecessor, only time will tell. When it comes out, people will tug back and forth over it, everyone claiming that one version clearly triumphs over the other. Why bother? Even the original was completely frivolous. I (perhaps foolishly) maintain that there's room in our memories for both combatants.

The Seven of Swords is all about this desperate need for validation, for unambiguous victories to be declared, however tenuous the real circumstances. In the Waite version of the card you see one person fending off numerous (perhaps only perceived) threats from above; the card is designed to make you immediately identify with the defender and not the attackers, but no one gets to be the former without first being the latter. Graduating from the Six to the Seven of Wands seems to bring this out in people -- give us a taste of success or encouragement, and we squander it by losing focus on our original mission. We become unsteady, defensive, insecure, prideful, easily distracted -- but hopefully for just a short time, because there is actually still plenty of work to be done before a solid victory is declared.

The film industry seems to exhibit all our ambition-related personality quirks and deficits, exploding them into huge expensive debacles and full-on wars. Clash of the Titans is not only up against every other movie coming out in March, it's also got to stand up to its over-hyped predecessor. When it's all over, who will even care? We all will have already moved on to the next over-hyped challenge.



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9.19.2009

And the VMA Goes To: The Prince of Wands!


Welcome to the third cycle of cards on Arcanalogue! To keep myself from repeating... myself, I'm mixing things up a bit on the site. For starters, I'm going to let my readers appoint the Court cards. When you see blanks to be filled in, that's your signal to start pondering and let me know which card you think the featured subject deserves to become. Are they a Princess (or Page, or whatever), a Prince (Knight, etc.), a Queen, or a King? Do they embody Wands, Cups, Swords, or Coins? Click those labels if you want to look at examples from Arcanalogue for comparison.

Make a case for your decision in the comments, based on whatever you think is relevant. Eventually I'll give the card an official title based on the responses. There are no real right answers, of course -- just really convincing ones!

How's this for a trial run: Last night Lady Gaga turned the already ridiculous MTV Video Music Awards inside out with her costumes. (You can see them all in this gallery...) If you want some additional food for thought, here's a bit of her performance from the show below, and a link to her latest video, for which embedding is (somewhat ironically) disabled.

UPDATE: Looks like I'm coronating her as the Prince of Wands. Lots of interesting arguments contributed to this call, you can read them below in the comments. Thanks, everyone!


Lady Gaga MTV VMA Music Awards 2009 Performance



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8.17.2009

"Become The Source Of Your Own Inspiration..."


When musician Glenn Donnellan began hollowing out a Louisville Slugger in hopes of converting it into an electric violin, I doubt he entertained the idea that soon he'd be playing the national anthem on it at baseball games across the country, or that YouTube videos of his performances would be watched by hundreds of thousands:


The pleasure in watching is owed just as much to Donnellan's skill as a musician as to the novelty of his instrument. Expect the bottom to drop out of the handcrafted violin market if anyone with a little patience can craft one out of a $25 piece of sports equipment. And how many other instruments are this handy in situations of self-defense?

The Tarot's four Sixes each represent a very special achievement, the sorts of moments when you feel you have truly realized your potential. Once we experience those moments, we spend most of our lives trying to recreate the situations that produced them -- in this way, you can become the source of your own inspiration instead of counting on occasional thunderstrokes from the Ace of Wands to point the way. The Six of Wands is where faith in yourself -- combined with the faith that others have in you -- creates a sort of vortex of reciprocity. It would be perfectly natural to find yourself taking a position of leadership or authority at a time like this; at the very least, you'll find yourself being appreciated and celebrated for the progress you've made, and the burden of others' hopes for you will be surprisingly light. It's a positive feedback-loop that you should keep spinning for as long as possible -- you can't ride high forever, but while you're up there you'll have a whole lot of influence over what comes next for you and those around you.

It took courage to come this far, and it will take more to proceed. Hopefully, moments like these will prove to you that certain hopes, dreams, and opportunities are worth exploring; like Donnellan's bat, in the right hands they flourish and become worth much more than the sum of their parts, but you'll never know for sure whether you have the magic touch until you actually try. Rather than predict success, the Six of Wands recognizes your vast potential for it -- the rest is up to you. [Via]


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8.12.2009

"A Bold Idea Actively Crystallizing Into Matter..."


Built for the 1962 World's Fair, Seattle's "Space Needle" went through many conceptual phases on its way to becoming one of the world's most recognizable modern structures. These early design sketches show a bold idea actively crystallizing into matter. Many compromises were made in order to finish the building in time for the Fair (sorry, no "tethered balloon" at the top!) but the overall success of a project isn't always determined by how faithful it is to the original concept -- success tends to be self evident, and the fact that the hastily-erected Needle is still an attraction and point of civic pride decades later is a marvel in itself. Also, it has a gas-flame beacon at the top, though they don't often use it.

I often describe this card to people as a claim they're staking on a particular area, whether personal, professional, or material. And since people (especially passionate, industrious people) are rarely content to sit and enjoy the settlement they've already claimed, we can see the seeds of expansion already beginning to sprout. In the Waite-Smith deck we see a lord surveying his territory and gazing into a globe. Is he dreaming of making the entire world his domain, or is this meant to show that his domain is basically the entire world to him, in microcosm? Your answer to this question makes a big difference in how you'll interpret the Three of Wands, in which we set out into the unknown in search of unclaimed opportunities.

I read on Wikipedia that the land the Space Needle stands on was acquired at the very last minute for a mere $75,000. Sometimes success and establishment come at a lower cost than you'd ever have expected -- maybe it's the intervention of that Ace card giving you a leg up. Regardless of how it arrives, your follow-through plays a crucial role in what will happen next. There will be a time to rest and celebrate, but this is not it; whether you decide to expand and stake new claims or devote your energy to improving the infrastructure of your existing investments, your attention and energy will bear fruit. [Via]


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8.05.2009

"Every Step Forward Can Be A Step Upward..."


Recently discovered video footage shows that legendary Match Game panelist Charles Nelson Reilly won the Tour de France with two flat tires and a missing chain. He had his very own line at the DMV. He's even been seen swimming upstream with the salmon to spawn.

I was really excited to see that Weird Al chose this potent pop-culture figurehead as the subject of his latest musical tribute -- even more so than when I laid eyes on the velvet CNR painting seen above! Riffing on the trend of attributing action stars like Chuck Norris with ridiculous and godlike powers, Al has singled out the devastatingly witty actor, director, and TV personality as a god among men. And rightly so!

I think the key word to define both Reilly and the Nine of Wands is "irrepressible". Your initial dream or plan has endured ups and downs, pushing through times of adversity and controversy and has emerging intact on the other side. It's a testament to your strength and flexibility that you've reached this peak -- but you can't defend it forever! If you're smart, you'll leave on a high note and pole-vault to the next challenge, channeling the energy of this success into new enterprises. If you wait until your star is sinking and your confidence is waning, you might chicken out.

Reilly perfected this art in his career, jumping from role to role as seasons changed, working as a teacher here and a director there. His final project was a one-man show about his life in show business, which he performed up until the time of his death. So instead of bogging down in your previous notions of accomplishment, keep moving -- with a little imagination and courage, every step forward can be a step upward. [Via]


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7.24.2009

"All That Remains Are The Responsibilities..."


You think you have a lot to live up to? Imagine being the guy who gets to date Lois Lane after she and Superman break up. Or consider the Man of Steel himself, admired and depended on by all, but secretly succumbing to existential crises as he roams the cosmos in search of God. These are the variables in motion within Jonathan Goldstein's short story Man Not Superman, vividly illustrated on yellow Post-It Notes in black marker.

Ten is as high as it goes in the Tarot's four minor suits, and so you'd think that they would represent the very best those suits have to offer. In fact, it's the Nines that have a stranglehold on that title, and the Tens -- while certainly grandiose -- leave us with unexpected (and sometimes unwelcome) realities to stagger under. If you look back over the number cards in the suit of Wands, you see youthful energy and ambition bursting forth into the world and blazing through a series of trials, skirmishes, and victories. Along the way this energy can't help but cool off a bit, becoming tempered by experience and discipline. Which is wonderful -- and downright necessary, if one is to really learn and grow instead of vainly trying to leap from peak to peak -- but by the final card the initial thrill is gone, and all that remains are the responsibilities you've accumulated along the way.

Don't despair: in a suit as dynamic and irrepressible as the Wands, nothing stays still for very long. The same curious or enterprising spirit that gradually got you into this jam can get you out of it too. On Ginny Hunt's constantly illuminating Tarot blog 78 Notes To Self, she has this to say about the Ten of Wands:

"As a ten, this card signals that something is going to break, something will end this insanity, and if you don't choose to put some of those wands down, something will force you to. I'm always struck by the way the figure's face is buried in the stack of wands and it reminds me of someone burying their head either in the sand or up their arse, depending on the attitude. It's as if this person thinks they are the only one who can do what it is they do and the world will just collapse if they don't do it. Not. More likely he will be the one collapsing. Though the card often seems to be saying, 'Press on, you're almost there,' I see it more often showing someone putting too much on their own shoulders that causes them to lose focus on what is truly important."

Rather than groan under the pressure of trying to articulate it any better than this, I'm downright relieved to lay my own sticks down and let someone else get all the credit. Which means that now I'm free to go play outside and take a well-deserved break after a long week of writing and editing, hopefully becoming a walking target for inspiration to strike. See how easy that was? Here's hoping you can get yourself similarly unstuck on your own terms -- after all, unlike a certain Brylcreemed crime-fighter I could mention, you're only human. [Via]


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7.08.2009

"A Place Of Reunion With Each Other And With Yourself..."


Remember Edith Macefield from last year's Two of Wands? She was the 86 year-old woman who refused to accept any offer whatsoever for her lifelong home when developers came knocking -- eventually they had to build around her. I posted about it around the time of her death, when the fate of her now-famous house was still uncertain.

Well, it's not uncertain anymore. The property has been sold to a group determined to build under it -- the plan is to elevate the house to the height of the surrounding buildings, and then install a two-level space below that will be open to the public. The name of the project is Credo Square, and for as little as $250 you can have your personal credo etched on a tile within the sanctuary. The interior of the house itself will be converted to a private office.

What's funny is that as soon as I saw the publicity sketches for Credo Square, I immediately thought of Pamela Coleman-Smith's illustration for the Four of Wands -- the upward thrust of the structures, the leafy garlands and enthusiastic revelers the background, the bright colors. They are both welcoming sights, promising a period of rest and reflection. That's something you won't find often in the suit of Wands! It was only after I decided to make it the subject of this card that it struck me -- by graduating the Macefield estate from the Two to the Four, I too was elevating it two levels!

In the Two and Three of Wands, we saw people establishing their turf, eyeing new territory, and then setting off to explore (and hopefully conquer). The Four of Wands is the celebration and period of rest and replenishment that awaits them when they finally return home. This may be a good time to start crafting or revising your own credo, words that will guide you through whatever challenges come next.

On the Credo Square website, there's a list of descriptions meant to complete the sentence "Credo Square is..." I'll go ahead and quote them below verbatim, to be read in the context of this card.

The Four of Wands is...

A place where the conversation is deep and meaningful
A place to consider what is important and what others think is important
A place where people consider and think on the great questions
A place to laugh and cry
A place to reflect on what went right and what went wrong
A gathering place
A place of reunion with each other and with yourself
A place to start over and a place to re-affirm
A place to "suck out all the marrow of life...to put to rout all that is not life" ( Henry David Thoreau)

Fits rather nicely, doesn't it? I'm sure that Macefield herself could never have imagined that one day her house would tower over passersby, but as far as tributes to her indomitable spirit go, this is about as good as it gets. [Via]


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7.07.2009

"I'm Not Here To Make Friends..."


These America's Next Top Model contestants? They didn't come here to make friends. Neither did the contestants of Top Chef, Survivor, The Ultimate Fighter, Project Runway, The Bachelor, or any of a dozen other reality TV shows. To prove what a truly tired perspective this is, Rich Juzwiak (otherwise known as the blogger fourfour) spliced together every instance he could find of a contestant broadcasting his/her not-friend-makingness:


That was exactly a year ago. As Juzwiak noted today, "So much has changed since then -- Obama became president, the sinking economy went belly up, Sarah Palin became queen of her own ass, then sank, then went belly up, etc. And yet... they've also stayed much the same." Exhibit A:


Within the chaotic Five-of-Wands-ness of the whole reality television universe, the one thing that never changes is that harmony and friendliness is practically never rewarded (one of the many signs that Rupaul's Drag Race was made of slightly different stuff was that the show bestowed a Miss Congeniality award in addition to the grand prize). You watch your own back, you betray people casually, and then you complain when you sense anyone else doing the same. I suspect the shows appeal to the paranoid part of us that's always bracing for friendly fire. It's so apt that the Tarot of the Saints gives us a high Five featuring stigmata -- every loser on TV is a martyr in his or her own eyes, regardless of how willing they are to pound a few nails when it comes right down to it.

Some people argue that there's no true malice in this card, that it just shows a bunch of bold intentions meeting at cross purposes. That may be true, but in my opinion that kind of embroilment is dangerous and should be avoided at all costs, lest it devolve into a five-way race to the bottom. If you catch yourself becoming similarly entangled, you might want to stop and consider whether this the best possible use of your energy. Is there any way to take the high road and quietly ascend straight to the Six while everyone else is still scrapping it out? Can you hold back and wait awhile until the storm has passed?

These may not be an options on shows like ANTM (though some initially meek contestants prove to be sleepers who flourish after the nastier girls have all picked each others' carcasses), but in real life this can save you lots of time and effort. And who knows, you may even make a friend out of the whole mess...[Via]


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6.23.2009

"Strokes Of Genius, Both Grand And Small..."


The scale on this image is a little hard to determine, so this may help: that silver segment on the rocket's body is a keg of beer. And balanced at the very tip of the rocket, just a couple of pixels wide, is a single donut. Does that help?

This is the kind of thing you'll see a lot of in Steve Jurvetson's contributions to the blog Photo Synthesis. He's obsessed with model rocketry writ large -- so large that participants have to schlep their nosecones all the way to the Black Rock desert, where airspace is uncontrolled and civilian rockets can fly as high as they please. The beer-keg pictured above reached a height of over 6,000 feet before parachuting (sort of) to the ground and bouncing to a full stop:


The Ace of Wands is the root of all singularly outrageous strokes of genius, both grand and small; it's the vine that inspiration and experimentation blossom from. Whether they produce any sort of practical or durable results is irrelevant -- the personal momentum that they grant you is all that really matters. Whether you're writing your first novel, discovering a new career opportunity, or burning 60 lbs of Alumaflame solid rocket propellant ("looks like gray styrofoam, but burns in a violet flame") to launch your beer a mile high before you drink it, for one brief and improbable moment you will find yourself no longer bound to the same restrictions that limit everyone else around you. It's fine to strategize as you fly, but don't overthink it or get bogged down asking questions: if you hesitate, this window of opportunity may close in your face.


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