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Thursday, 8 April 2010

the knight is yet young

On account of the date and in order to take aim, at least, for the groove, I decided to pull three cards and jot down my impressions of them. I used the Conway, as usual.

I got the Knight of Wands, the Queen of Swords and the One of Cups.

This Knight of Wands? Looks awful lonely. It's just him and the hills and the sky, and a lily (real lilies look so phallic - masturbatory in this case, I guess.) I guess Knights of Wands often want to see themselves in this light; peerless pioneers in an empty landscape. I've a feeling that being observed is irrelevant to Fire Knights if not to all Knights. They're blind to onlookers, though followers may be a bonus (or may not be).

Queens of Swords are alone by definition. (This one is so stony, a grey statue-face on a head that looks, in its forms and marks, like geology.) It's bright day in the Knight of Wands and night here in the Queen of Swords, and he's in the hinterlands, she by the sea. (And there's more geology in the background - a volcano. That could be her Knight of Wands erupting in the mountains, for all I know). I assume more people are cold to others than are cold to themselves, which suggests that the Queen of Swords does face the world. But she doesn't let it through.

The really distinct and wonderful thing about this One of Cups is that all its drama is on the inside. The waves of the outside world merely lap fiercely, but harmlessly, against its stem. It's a card that finds its world inside much more interesting than the world outside.

I drew them as I sat on my bed, and put them on a ruffled sheet; the Queen slid a little, the One slid a lot. Thus they show a descent from the mountain (he might as well be alone), to the beachhead (she does not permit herself to be other than alone) to the deep blue sea (and even when the world brushes against it, it's still utterly self-contained). Thus water runs downhill. At the very top of the One of Cups we see the sun, making the vapours ascend again.

Tarot shows cycles. So a One may as well be an end or a midpoint as a beginning, and so I see here; all the aloneness and the loneliness and the introspection collected at the lowest ocean trenches, only to dissipate again.