fool Archives - ROXANNA BIKADOROFF

March 15, 2024April 12, 2025

The Empress, the Alembic and the Secret Fire

From joy springs all creation, by joy it is sustained,
towards joy it proceeds, and to joy it returns. – Mundaka Upanishad

Tarot de Marseille is a funny creature. Just when you think you’ve ‘figured it all out’, like a chimera it changes into something else. Fortunately I en-joy a mystery and seeking that which has no end. If I’ve learned one thing from TdM, it’s that the same pattern exists in whatever particular wisdom path you choose to follow. “All roads lead to Alexandria.” (wink)
The enigma is perhaps most apparent in the triad sequence, beginning with the Empress. To re-cap TdM’s inherent Pythagorean principal:

One becomes two, two becomes three and
out of three comes the one as the fourth.

Each 3 place card completes a triad from which the next cycle of three will be born, with 21 also completing the entire 3 x 7 cycle. Unlike the 1s with their solar crowns (monadic) and 2s with their lunar vessels (dyadic), there’s no obvious, recurring object in every 3 place card (triadic), other than a predominance of wateriness (and darkness, in the case of 9, 12, 15 and 18). The Mercurial spirit of creation requires a container – a body of some kind – for transformation to take place, AND it is also that container, like caterpillar and pupa. They are not separate, but form each other. The 3 place cards allude to this secret, inner and outer process. Magic is afoot, is all we really know.
[Please click on any images to enlarge]

3
Let’s look at the three cards in the 3 place with the numeric sum of 3. The first, The Empress (3) shows us what we need to know. Atop her sceptre is the globus cruciger or sovereign’s orb – nothing unusual about that….except maybe the size? In reality, a globus this big would be hand held, with a smaller one atop the accompanying sceptre. Masculine sceptre and feminine orb (and the 4 and 3 of the orb’s parts) are being combined, and we can see that the base of her sceptre points to precisely where it’s all going to happen.

Emblem 2, the feminine qualities of the stone, from Michael Maier’s, Atalanta fugiens

In alchemy, one of the symbols for antimony, the ‘wild spirit of man’ (sometimes represented by a wolf) is the reversed Venus/copper symbol – a circle with cross on top. “Pliny the Elder (ca 77 AD) made a distinction between the “male” and “female” forms of antimony; the male form is probably the sulfide, while the female form, which is superior, heavier, and less friable, has been suspected to be native metallic antimony.” [Wikipedia]

cinnabar with mercury droplets, antimony rendered in antimony

But most (?) likely, it is the symbol for cinnabar, the ‘parent’ mineral from which Mercury is born. Note the orb which the philosopher’s child, hermaphroditic Mercury holds as he wades through the alchemical bathwater, below. Is it the cinnabar womb water, or the antimony purification bath, which eats away everything but gold? Or maybe both, considering the two parent luminaries lovingly at hand?

‘The watery matrix holdeth the fire captive.’ – Jacob Boehme

Like the eagle on her shield, the Empress has ‘wings.’ Beside her left hip is a scallop or scalloped bowl/baptismal fount. The scalloped basin was also a type of alchemical vessel and symbol of the Hermetic pilgrim, according to Fulcanelli. Either way, it has to do with the purification process.

Hellenistic Greek Glass Shell 2nd-1st century B.C.

In both type 1 and type 2 Empress cards, there is often what resembles a triple flag under the basin, likely representing the main 3 stages/colours of the work (black, white, red), as in this relief (detail) on Notre Dame Cathedral depicting all the stages of alchemy (please see this new article on the Popess for more on Notre Dame alchemical reference). It might also represent the three philosophical elements; salt/body, sulphur/soul and mercury/spirit.

Threefold alchemy ‘flag’ from Notre Dame, Noblet and Payen Empress details.

All these raw, heavy materials, still in their ‘vulgar’ state almost appear to weigh her down. Mythically speaking, since the Emperor evokes Pluto (aka Dionysus, aka Osiris), his partner must also evoke Persephone, Queen of the Dead and personification of Spring regeneration. The ‘M’ shape of her blue skirt is the age-old symbol for water. Maya or Maia is mother ocean/womb, and Maria is literally ‘Maia with fire (R/Ur) in her belly’ (covered by red vest). The perennial fountain? Or an alembic? I like to think of her eagle shield as the ultrasound screen, and her sceptre as the transducer. But again, M might just stand for MERCURY, here in female form (remember, with 3s, the process, container and its contents are as one).

Noblet, Dodal and two versions of Conver Empress card

Another honourable Maria, namely Maria the Prophetess, was the first [non-mythical] alchemist of the western world. Schooled by the great Zosimos of Panopolis, she lived sometime between the 1st and 3rd centuries in Alexandria, Egypt (of course). Maria also had a favourite axiom:

One becomes two, two becomes three and
out of three comes the one as the fourth.

Wait, haven’t we heard that before? Did she get it from Pythagoras (who lived several centuries prior) or is it just a case of universal truth? Both geniuses stood faithfully by these words. Pythagoras was not an alchemist, but nevertheless, he understood this fundamental equation to be the basis of all creative cycles.

‘Maria the Jewess,’ as she’s also known, “incorporated life-like attributes into her descriptions of metal such as bodies, souls, and spirits. She believed that metals had two different genders, and by joining the two genders together a new entity could be made.” [Wikipedia]
She is accredited with many firsts, particularly her invention of the balneum Mariae (bain-Marie), progenator of the modern-day double-boiler. Of her written works surviving in Arabic we find two most curious titles; The Book of Maria and the Wise Men and The Epistle of the Crown and the Creation of the Newborn Baby.

Leonora Carrington, The Chrysopeia of Mary the Jewess, 1964

Maria excelled in both mystical and scientific approaches and it’s thought she may have originated the idea of 4 colour stages in alchemy. Indeed she herself was an alembic, which is the whole point of this exercise, the teachings of the 3s. Hermes Trismegistus (‘thrice great’) was another such person, albeit more mythical. In Pythagorean numerology, 3 is the number of creativity, joy, artistic expression. In astrology, the trine is considered the most harmonious aspect, connecting planets or points of the same element. (However, it is fiery and energy can flow with lightening speed for better or worse).

Maria Prophetissima and Hermes Trismegistus from Michael Maier’s Symbola Aurea Mensae Duodecim Nationum (1617)

So, the Empress, similar to the Juggler, has all four elements (or stages) about her, in physical form; earth (ground below + snake/globus + barely visible horns), fire (crown + hair), air (wings + human features) and water (blue robe/shell). The eagle represents the work as well as the water element. The difference being that 1 alone can’t yet do anything with all the separate, single parts, other than superficially (ie, practical magic), like performing tricks or perhaps trading with Jack for his cow.
The Empress and Emperor will complete each other (he too has orbed sceptre and eagle, and faces toward her), but they have not yet come together, they are still 3 and 4, neither added nor multiplied.

Conver Empress and World cards. Note the shield eagle’s amphibious wing.

In this older version (below), that she has attributes of the four ‘elemental beasts’ of the World card are more obvious; longer ‘horns’ (in crown and necklace), wings/human, eagle/phoenix and even a lion’s paw/mane.

Guilaume Dubesset-Claude Valentin, ca 1680

12
I’ve already written on some of the 3 place cards – the Hanged Man, the Hermit, the Devil and the Moon – so will just touch on the Hanged Man (12) here, as he’s part of this 3 x 3 sequence.
His flaming hair and his number might suggest solar connotations, although he’s still situated in-between the Sun and Moon ‘parents’. The Sun represents the gold, and thus the process of purifying the ‘inner’ (philosophical) gold is in progress. But it is not the literal Sun, physical fire or material gold. Rather, it is a different fire altogether.

Visconti Sforza 16th c, Jacques Vieville 17th c, Nicholas Conver TdM 18th c

In the middle example, the number is placed so that he is flipped, indicating that as his body descends, his spirit ascends (note the lunar and solar ‘mounds’ on each side of his head, the solar one containing all the heavenly spheres), with emphasis on the spiritual. Not an accident, but likely an Orphic reference. In the third card, the descent of the ‘Sun’ (his head) into matter is emphasized. High noon and midnight, apex and nadir, bipolar. It really is like the separation that goes on inside the alchemist’s glass egg. The main thing is that we can’t observe his inner process. Typically, the Hanged Man’s expression is placid, as if he’s either in acceptance or ‘somewhere else.’ His gibbet is like a (golden) doorway or threshold. All of this suggests he is experiencing what’s known in alchemy as the secret fire:

Search, therefore, this fire with all strength of your mind, and you shall reach the goal you have set yourself; for it is this that brings to completion all the stages of the Work, and is the key of all the Philosophers, which they have never revealed in their books. If you think well and deep upon this above-mentioned fire, you will know it. Not otherwise.
– Potanus, The Secret Fire

To me, the Visconti-Sforza version looks very alchemical, its colours alluding strongly to the (philosophical) Green Lion devouring the Sun. I love how well the following description of the symbolism relates to the card, albeit it seems to be more from a Jungian perspective than traditional alchemy (and granted, the solar ‘ego’ looks anything but terrified):

The image corresponds to the releasing of primordial essence. That is why the lion is green, which is a primordial, unripe color. It also connotates fecundity. Eating the sun symbolizes the dominance of the Ego by instinctual forces. It is the beginning of a return to a more natural psychological state in which human beings flourish.
The ego perceives the encounter as terrifying because all transformational processes appear to be a kind of death to the ego. However, this process is the catalyst for an encounter with the Self. The instincts are amoral relative to human society and culture. Social conditioning aims to keep the instincts in check until the Higher Self is adequately present. Once present, our attitudes and feelings will be conditioned and directed by the Self. Otherwise, we experience a regression to the animalistic nature.
~ Tony Laguia, ‘The Green Lion Devouring the Sun‘ [Medium]

Visconti-Sforza hanged Man and Alchemical Green Lion devouring the Sun

21
The World (21) card, signifies the completion of the opus, the central figure representing ‘quintessence.’ Like an awakened eye, it is the revelation of that which embodies the essence of all past forms and potential for that shall be. In other words, what has been purified through many transformations becomes a catalyst for transformation; the Holy Grail or Philosopher’s Stone. Perhaps you’ve met someone who is a human tuning fork, or experienced a work of art, poetry, music, etc. that in its perfection had the effect of putting you ‘right side up’ again. Perhaps Tarot itself. ‘A light cannot help shedding its light. A flower cannot help giving off its fragrance.’ [Upanishads, ibid] When the young man in arcanum 6 was being initiated into the school of Venus/Eros, it was with the ultimate purpose of becoming just such a universal lover. ‘Everybody loves a lover.’

Ascend above any height, descend further than any depth; receive all sensory impressions of the created: water, fire, dryness and wetness. Think that you are present everywhere: in the sea, on earth and in heaven; think that you were never born and that you are still in the embryonic state: young and old, dead and in the hereafter. Understand everything at the same time: time, place, things: quality and quantity.
~ Corpus Hermeticum, 1460

The four creatures in the corners are assumed to be the four evangelists, the fixed signs of the zodiac, the seasons and/or the 4 elements. However…the bull is also lunar (2), the lion solar (1), and as we can see, they are now conjoined (3). The eagle previously represented the alchemical work, so then who might the winged human be when they’re at home? What of the Empress’ wings? Hmm.

Incidentally, Egyptian initiates were called ‘scarabs’ because they ‘pushed along the egg of their regeneration’ – the container and the work?

Below, left, is the oldest of all known TdM type World cards (found in the Sforza castle cistern). Though it is badly damaged, some curious details remain. The androgyne or hermaphroditic Christ/Dionysus figure appears to have one breast only, on their right side, which is our left (mirroring). Their other, male side has the thicker leg. On their breasted/female side, the partially-obscured bull (or cow) has perfect, lunar crescent horns and on their male side, the lion has distinct, solar rays in its mane. Unique to this card, the angel in the top left (Aquarius/Matthew/air) has a ‘flame of inspiration’ in his forehead – ‘fire in the belly’ raised to crown level?

Oldest TdM ca mid-late 16th c (photo courtesy Ross Caldwell), Jacques Vieville ca 1650

The Vieville version, right, mixes things up a bit – bull and lion are switched around and have no wings. Since this card depicts a sexless figure facing straight forward, I ventured to see what one might look like as two. (Admittedly, it felt taboo, but…for science).
The male twin has a red cloak, denoting fire and his life force energy is directing upwards, expressed poignantly by what’s left of the sceptre. His body, arms open, creates an M for Mars. The female twin has a dark blue cloak, denoting water and her large V for Venus directs life force energy downward to her vulva, which she covers with her hands. Two opposite triangles, converging as one. On the Empress and Emperors’ shields, in fact, her eagle’s wings point upward, his downward, similar to the yin-yang idea of ‘opposite but interconnecting, mutually perpetuating forces.’ [wiki]

In medieval alchemy, ‘philosophical Mercury’ is what remains when earth, air, fire and water are removed from a substance. It is associated with ‘prima materia’ (‘first matter’), from which all other matter is composed.

Philosophical Mercury, composed of sulphur and quicksilver (distinguished from their ordinary or ‘vulgar’ forms), ca 1400

When you make the two one, and when you make the inside like the outside and the outside like the inside and the above like the below, and when you make the male and the female one and the same, so that the male not be male nor the female female, and when you fashion eyes in the place of an eye, and a hand in the place of a hand and a foot in the place of a foot, and a likeness in the place of a likeness: then will you enter [the kingdom].
~ From the Gospel of Didymos Judas Thomas (‘the Twin’), Nag Hammadi Library

Whatever wisdom path you choose to follow, the same patterns are found, and this is because patterns are ultimately geometrical/mathematical. But wisdom is not just an intellectual exercise. It must be applied, to thrive.

In Sanskrit, ‘anahata’ means ‘unstruck.’ (Funny, considering arcanum 6). The anahata or heart chakra, illustrated by two, interlocking triangles, is associated with unconditional love, compassion, and joy. This rose window of our personal cathedral serves to balance the upper (spiritual) and lower (material) chakras, so that we may experience pure love for both self and others, without attachment and expectation.

On March 21 (3/3), Venus (Ptolemaic 3rd sphere) will conjunct Saturn in Pisces. Saturn is the cold karma lord and task master of our consciousness, who has a way of shackling the heart with guilt, pain and sorrow. In Pisces, Saturn can feel like the weight of the whole, wretched world (as we collectively witness the shadow expression of yet another ancient symbol). Venus, on the other hand, exalts in Pisces, bringing potential for a moment of healing, amnesty and grace to weary hearts. Like the Empress conducting Venus into her belly, if we channel the energy of this transit, perhaps whatever beauty we create from it will serve as a tuning fork for someone, somewhere, sometime down the road. ~ rb

Thanks for reading!

All written content except quotations is copyright© Roxanna Bikadoroff and may not be reused or reprinted. Please share via LINK ONLY (accompanied by pull quote/paragraph with credit/link is fine).

January 25, 2024May 29, 2025

Let Me Take You Down – The Juggler/ Le Bateleur of Tarot de Marseille

Isis assists with the embalming of a mummy, Kom El Shokafa, Alexandria, 2nd c

‘One becomes Two, Two becomes Three, and out of the Third
comes the One as the Fourth.’ ~ Pythagoras

In a previous post , we saw how this Cosmology of Pythagoras applies to Tarot. It is but one of the initial or initiatory, key concepts conveyed to us as a visual clue by our Master of Ceremonies, The Juggler/Le Bateleur (aka the Magician). Do you see it?
Hint: It’s ‘dessous la table’, in every Marseille-type deck.

Of course, I am referring to the legs. People tend to write off his three-legged table as simply being of the portable sort that Bagatelles used. It’s true, three legs provide the most stable table for any surface. (Especially if it happens to be a tripod with a Pythia sitting on it). But his table in fact has four. Because one of his legs is behind or combined with one of the table legs, his other leg becomes the 4th leg; ‘the One as the Fourth.’ Another consistent feature is that the rectangular table top always extends beyond the picture border… just how long might it be?

Below are two images of Anubis, god of funerary rites and underworld guide, preparing the dead. His uncovered, lower legs are always visible beneath the embalming bed, and knees about level. This ritual table traditionally had a lion head(s) and legs, which we will return to in a moment.

Egyptian embalmer’s bed, 664-332 BC (Met Museum, NY)

The Juggler is often equated with Hermes/Thoth, initiator into the mysteries or the ‘in-between’ state itself who oversees the alchemical process. But he’s also seen as an initiate, who maybe doesn’t yet know what all these objects he’s selling are for. As others familiar with Osirian-Orphic mystery content in TdM imagery have noted, they likely allude to dismemberment or sacrifice. They also bear a resemblance to the tools used in the Egyptian ‘Opening of the Mouth’ ceremony, which according to belief, enabled the deceased to eat, breathe, drink and use their senses in the afterlife.

Religious equipment for ‘Opening of the Mouth’ ceremony, 6th dyn. (British Museum)

Naturally, the Juggler’s objects also symbolize the four Hermetic elements (ie, the suits of the minor arcana) and the four ways a body is returned to them in traditional funerary rites. The four ‘parts’ of us that are returned to their sources – body to earth, spirit to fire, soul to water, mind or breath to air – will again be drawn from them and remixed, for another round.

Four ways a body is returned to the elements

Now, let’s just for fun assume the Juggler’s table should have another wooden leg, that it is indeed modelled on an embalming table with leonine features and that it displays tools related to the ‘opening of the mouth.’
Where would we then look for the missing leg? Only the Conver-type decks give us a proper clue [addendum: Dodal also] – the Strength lion’s single leg having a distinctly wooden look and no paw. (Always thought it a rather canine-looking lion). In other TdM decks, it has normal, lion forepaws, which, nevertheless is a hieroglyphic feature, based on Horapollo.

The missing leg and the opening of the mouth

The Pythagorean rule informs us that every 4th card is also a first. 1 was considered masculine/solar and 2, feminine/lunar. 3, while odd, fiery and therefor technically ‘masculine,’ creates the first enclosed space (triangle/womb), so it is actually a combination of masc/fem (the Mercurial, creative magic of the trinity need not be re-explained here). 11 is two 1s or 1+1=2, the lunar partner to the solar Juggler.
I’ll discuss the 2s in my next post, but let the image below, from the Catacombs of Kom El Shokafa, where Egyptian and Greco-Roman mysteries meet, serve as a preview.

Where did you get that hat? Gorgoneion as ‘death face’ of the Sun

The crown/corona worn by royals represents the Sun’s rays. To be coronated means to be crowned with the Sun and become a god-like, solar figure. In alchemy, the Sun symbolizes both the material gold and the hidden, spiritual gold, which is only achieved after a long process. The Juggler holds a little yellow coin or roundel (material gold) and there is a small, yellow flame [aka ear of golden grain] beneath the table, in the distance (spiritual gold). They are separate, at this point in the game.

Notice that every card in the 1/4 place between Juggler and Sun depicts a crown, in various phases of transmutation, as well as solar wheels (Chariot, Fortune) and phallic symbols (all seven do, but in the last card it is a horizontal wall). The Sun is its own corona (unified, risen spirit), but what about the Juggler? He is only a 1, not a 1/4, and wears not a crown but a floppy hat with a spherical, red middle. Could this too be symbolic of the Sun?

Answer is yes. The question of his hat had admittedly irked me a long time, until I saw these beautiful, French prints of Egyptian deities in the NYPL collections.

Winged solar disk, emblems of Thoth/Hermes Trismegistus (NYPL)

So the red sphere of the Juggler’s hat represents the solar disk, its brim being vaguely reminiscent of wings – or – perhaps symbolic of the funerary boat in which the Sun god Ra, and thereby Kings and Pharaohs traversed the Duat, when the sun set. The red sphere appears to sink into the brim, ie, setting below the horizon, corona faded. Meanwhile, on the distant horizon flickers that tiny, golden flame of spirit, which will become a bright Sun once again.
Pythagoreans believed in reincarnation, Pythagoras himself was said to have remembered several of his past lives.

New take on retro fashion or just comparing scars?

On that note, I leave you with a vivid, childhood memory…
My father was a psychiatrist with a sense of humour (and with whom I often played cards). Hanging on our bathroom wall was a small, framed photo of Sigmund Freud, with a quote by Groucho Marx taped beneath:

“This may be a phallus, but gentlemen, let us remember, it is also a cigar.”

~rb

January 6, 2024April 12, 2025

Horapollo and the Hieroglyphic Mysteries of Tarot de Marseille

It is a tradition in esoteric history that whenever a new culture is embryonic in the womb of an older one, or when an esoteric school recognizes that a culture has served it’s purposes and is coming to an end, then a major work of art is created in dedication, as an outer sign for future ages. The work of art may be a remarkable piece of music, a poem, a garden or a building — but whatever its external artistic form, it encapsulates, in entirely esoteric principals, a summary of what has gone before, and what is to come. All great esoteric artists from Dante to Shakespeare, from Milton to Blake, have recognized this primal function of their art. The interesting thing is that all too often it is the exoteric aspects of their products which attract attention of those who follow, and the esoteric contents remain hidden, save perhaps for the seeing few, who are themselves alive to the esoteric background to human history.

– Fred Gettings, The Secret Zodiac

At the height of Renaissance in the 15th century, a fresh, Humanistic view of the world was flourishing. Scholarly and creative minds, it seems, had been opened through a revised symbolic and syncretic way of thinking. Revised, because a pre-existing, Medieval tradition of visuals serving as a window to higher concepts was already well-established, as were heraldic devices and emblems, but a big part of the collective re-awakening came by way of a new, parabolic language in the arts, born or copied from an older one shrouded in mystery. Renaissance literally means rebirth. But who and what was being reborn? A civilization, perhaps, that had planned for just such an everlasting afterlife?

[please click images to enlarge and read]

In Italy, especially in Florence, there was great interest in learning from the distant past. Greco-Roman revivalism in poetry and philosophy, art and architecture thrived, as the nobles competed for legacy and church fathers, for a time, actively encouraged and commissioned works. Pagan gods and goddesses frequently appeared alongside Christian ones, albeit not as subjects of worship (except for Isis, under guise as the Virgin). Ex-pats had returned from exile with personal libraries including medical, alchemical and astronomical manuscripts from the Middle East. Arthurian legends of courtly love from England and France were extremely popular. The printing press now meant more people could have access to literature – although nobles considered printed works to be gauche and still preferred to commission hand-crafted books. Among these, of course, was the first, Latin translation of The Corpus Hermeticum. The ‘alchemization’ of Europe had begun.

(More here. Pre-Conver Emperors do not show the Basilisk throne).

Egyptian artifacts, housed in Italy since Roman times, were a major part of this resurgence in all things ancient, esoteric and therefor exemplary. (To give you an idea, Pope Alexander VI aka Rodrigo Borgia even had his genealogy ‘traced’ back to Osiris thus establishing a link between the Egyptian gods and the church). Renaissance Humanists, fascinated by hieroglyphs, began a race to unlock them that would continue for the next 3 centuries. One main source of reference was a manuscript called ‘The Hieroglyphics of Horapollo Nilous.’ Horapollo (Horus Apollo) was a 5th century Egyptian scribe and one of the last remaining priests of Isis, who had also made a partially successful effort at decipherment (hieroglyphs were already thousands of years old, by his time). A translation of his work had turned up in Florence, in 1422 and was first printed in 1505. Another, slightly later reference source was the ‘Mensa Isiaca‘ or Table of Isis, which Athanasius Kircher in particular took as a model.

Egyptian winged Uraeus and Hieroglyphica by Valeriani, 1556

‘Hieroglyphica’, as it became known, inspired a tidal wave of emblematic art (‘emblemata’), as neo-Platonists and others sought to emulate these cryptic little pictures, resulting in an imaginative, western European hybrid. Hermetic and alchemical artists would employ this method of concealed meaning ‘for initiates only’ (namely, other hermeticists/alchemists).

This genre of the symbolic rereading of the hieroglyphs – “enigmatic hieroglyphs” as Rigoni and Zanco (1996) call them – was very popular in the late Hellenistic period. It should not surprise us, then, that so many Renaissance Humanists – for whom this was all quite familiar through Lucan, Apuleius, Plutarch, Clement of Alexandria and, especially, Ennead V by Plotinus – should see in the Hieroglyphica a genuine connection with the highest sphere of wisdom.

– Studiolum

Other antiquities being scoured for emblematic images were things like Roman coins, medallions and gem charms, which the ruling class loved to collect. Roman carved gems in particular were highly sought after, and became family heirlooms, often set in jewelry [see ‘Death and the Moon’ post].

It was out of this tradition that Tarot de Marseille emerged, presumably in Italy, during the mid 16th century. [No known prior examples of the classic TdM format exist and the oldest known example of a triumph is a single, World card – the oldest complete decks known are 17th century.] Its images are not just allegorical, but ‘hieroglyphic’ in nature – though obviously not actual Egyptian hieroglyphs. The apparent (I would even say obvious) application of Horapollo’s descriptions alone leaves little doubt, though, that they were purposefully designed with visual clues that provided a context for imbedded messages. What that purpose was and why playing cards, we can’t know for certain, but as Counter-Reformation loomed on the horizon, maybe it was time to encapsulate esoteric principals for future ages?

I will dive more deeply into some of the ‘glyphs in the other cards (not included herein), in upcoming blogposts, but wanted to provide this overview, first.

Stay tuned! ~rb

All written content herein except quotations is COPYRIGHT ©ROXANNA BIKADOROFF and may not be reused in full anywhere without permission. Please share via LINK only (with short, credited pull-quote, if needed).

QUOTATIONS:
~ Fred Gettings opener from ‘The Secret Zodiac – The Hidden Art in Mediaeval Astrology’ [Routeledge & Kegan Paul, 1987]
~ ‘Enigmatic hieroglyphics’ quote from studiolum.com
~ Horapollo text translations (Alexander T. Cory, 1840) from sacred texts.com

REFS/OTHER LINKS:
~ The Egyptian Renaissance – The Afterlife of Ancient Egypt in Early Modern Italy, Brian Curran, Penn State University (pdf)
~ Hieroglyphs and Meaning, Lucia Morra, Carla Bazzanella (pdf)
~ Pinturicchio’s Frescoes in the Sala dei Santi in the Vatican Palace, Roger Gill, Birmingham City University (pdf)
~ The Art of Small Things by John Mack [Harvard University Press]
~ Horapollo Hieroglyphica via Jason Colavito
~ Giovanni Pierio VALERIANO BOLZANI Hieroglyphica, Google Books

August 26, 2023April 18, 2024

Mercury’s Magic Knobs

I had often wondered about these strange little knobs on Mercury’s pouch. That there were usually three of them (or three on the sides and one on the bottom) was no mystery, given Mercury’s magic, threefold ways. But what were they, exactly? What was their purpose, if any? Many theories were given when I posed the question. Pockets? Folds created from tying a square piece of cloth? Little legs to ‘stand’ the open pouch up with? Was it perhaps made of a bird’s skin or cow’s udder and the hanging bits tied up? Might they be buttons and/or have had some protective function?

Details of three woodcuts 15th-17th c and one Roman sculpture

Examples of similar bags were found, but of course nothing old enough still existed for comparison. I should back up a minute here and explain what got me looking at his sack in the first place, which was the Fool’s bindle in Tarot de Marseille. Notice how it is divided into three sections, possibly signifying the three, alchemical substances (sulphur/mercury/salt) or stages (black/white/red), and setting the general theme of triplicity that runs through the major arcana. [Note also the mandorla-shaped mouth of the sack-vessel.]

The TdM Fool’s threefold bindle (detail, various decks)

Drawstring leather pouch and goatskin purse with knobs, France, 16th c

So it seemed that what was originally a natural characteristic (say, knotted udder nipples) gradually became decorative knobs in much later woodcuts, that served no function other than to add a lucky triplicity to Mercury’s accoutrement.

But you know how it is, a planet turns retrograde and answers to riddles (Mercury), an old love (Venus) or cold case murder evidence (Pluto) can suddenly just pop up.

I was looking for something else (naturally), when I came upon this image, not in my Mercury folder. It is of a tintinnabulum from Pompeii, ca 1st c AD. These were little wind-chimes with protective phalli, to keep the bad spirits away (bells would have hung from the ends). The erect phallus was considered a potent apotropiac, and specific to Hermes-Mercury, god of travellers and magicians. They were featured regularly on herms (or just by themselves), situated at crossroads. I dunno, do you think we should add more penises? Maybe a few little ones on the bag, just in case.

tintinnabulum of polyphallic Mercury from Pompeii — Roman tintinnabulum, ca 1st C AD, Naples Museum

Mercury's magic pouch has phallic knobs for keeping evil away — [detail]

Now I know what you are thinking – are you sure? Might there be other examples? And of course, I wondered the same. So I took a close look at another, familiar artwork from Pompeii…

Priapus with attributes of Hermes-Mercury, Pompeii fresco, Naples Museum

I’m afraid there is just no mistaking it. Those impotent little knobs on the magic bag of Mercury are the descendants of once preeminent penises. As for what might be inside said bag…that will have to wait for another blogpost. ~rb

Addendum: After posting this article, suddenly people are chiming In and saying “noooo, wroooong! they are testicles!” Where were they when I first put forth the question? Eh? Eh? Little Red Hen asks. (I jest). Well, of course, once Europe became Christianized, you couldn’t very well put shlongs on everything. So the obvious solution would be to use testicles. It is still part of the magical triad of phallic anatomy, just easier to disguise as knobs or figs or what have you. After all, we are talking about a time frame from Rome BC to the Renaissance, so there is going to be an evolutionary process. Excuse me for trying to get right to the ‘point,’ but my mission was to locate the possible ‘source’. Btw, the Mercurial tradition of touching one’s nutsack for protection (from you-know-who) is still alive and well.

…don’t forget to pick up your lucky bawdy badge on the way out!

bawdy pilgrim badge from the crusades — Crusader ‘bawdy badge’ for protection from STDs in the Holy Land.

February 2, 2023April 5, 2024

Lonely at the Top – Sun or planets in the 10th House

‘Most Young Kings Get Their Heads Cut Off’ Jean-Michel Basquiat

Do you have a tenth house Sun placement? How about other planets?
How does this express itself for you?

If a person has a goal and is determined to achieve it, a 10th house placement can work well for them…but if they don’t, they may feel they haven’t achieved enough or have, consciously or not, set standards for themselves they can’t possibly live up to. They may imagine a harder landing, should they fail or fall from grace. This is, after all, the house allotted to Capricorn and its Saturn rulership, traditionally the house of the ‘father,’ and in olden times, ‘the king’. [Some see it in reverse, that it’s the house of the ‘mother’ and the 4th (Moon/Cancer) is the father, although I haven’t personally found this to work as well. Let’s call it even and say this is the polarity of the parents, either of which can be dominant in our psyche.]

The cusp of the 10th, the midheaven, is where we find ourselves looking down from the top of the mountain peak at what we’ve experienced up to this point (often at mid-life) and either saying, ‘wow, I’ve been through a lot, learned a lot, made a lot of money or become a better/more mature person as a result’, or, ‘I’ve done all this stuff, had all these different careers that haven’t amounted to anything and life ain’t getting any shorter,’ depending on whether the cup is seen as half full or half empty. Even the term ‘a-mounted to’ is very Capricorn mountain goat language!

Visconti-Sforza Tarot Wheel of Fortune/Rota Fortunae

But the tenth house has another secret. In Tarot, 10 is the Wheel of Fortune, which is based on the zodiac wheel. We see one character going up, another sitting pretty at the midheaven, another going down, and another at the bottom, at all the angles. A metaphor for life’s ups and downs, successes and failures, but also of time cycles and of the houses themselves, which are angular, succedent, or cadent. In the Tarot card above, the figures are saying, “I reign, I reigned, my reign is finished, I shall reign.”

The angular houses are strongest, cadent (fallen away from the angular placement) are weakest, and succedent (next in line to the angular position) enjoy the hope of success/succession. [This is perhaps easiest to comprehend when using the equal house system, which evenly divides the wheel into 12 pie slices, one for each sign, beginning with one’s rising sign/degree, but personally I don’t use equal house.]
Technically speaking, the house moves into the position of the house that was formerly in that position, not the sign or planets, i.e., transiting Mars will be in Gemini at a certain degree all day, but in a different house every hour. The houses, though paired with particular signs/planets and spoken of as a conglomerate, are actually separate entities.

The 11th house of ‘hopes, dreams, wishes, groups’ (allotted to Aquarius/Saturn and Uranus) is where we can perhaps look for help with our 10th house issues. You will notice the succedent houses are all ‘fixed’ sign placements. Thus they have a certain steadfastness, while the angular (cardinal), though strongest in terms of influence, have that built in ‘fear of falling’, just like anyone in a position of power might. Caution: some viziers make better allies than others.

And although cadent (mutable) houses tend to be shoved aside, as if nothing much happens herein, there can be a certain freedom from expectation in these houses that may also be utilized (true, Virgo seems the exception, but will often find freedom in under-the-radar, detailed tasks such as organizing files). The 0 in 10 is, after all, associated with the Fool, who creates his path as he goes along, unattached to outcome. He was the only medieval court member who could openly roast the king, thus reminding the monarch we all fall down, and 10th house achievers that the journey is really what it’s all about, ‘on arrive jamais‘. Sagittarius is allotted to 9th house as jester, highest card in the deck, with none of the responsibilities of a king, yet somehow lucky enough to have Jupiter as its ruler. Hmm. Faith?
Caution: Some fools may be a tad nihilistic and reckless.

Further proof of this ‘power of three’ lies in the fact that every grand trine is composed of an angular, succedent and cadent house of the same element. Being ‘all for one and one for all’, grand trine energy can flow so easily and fast as to not even notice it’s happening.

So if your Sun or other lofty 10th house planets are feeling alone at the top or afraid of falling, look to either side of them, at your 11th (succedent/fixed) house vizier and 9th (cadent/mutable) house fool for a different perspective from planets therein or friends/people with their sun in these signs, who can ‘act as’ planets. Keep in mind that the 10th house planet/sign is still the one ultimately in charge and can make things happen, it just needs support, sometimes – is it being supported or sabotaged? This goes for all the angular houses, but especially the 10th.

Gemini is cadent to **Cancer**, Aquarius succedent to **Capricorn**, two angular signs.

All written content herein is ©Roxanna Bikadoroff and may not be used or reprinted anywhere without permission from me. But if you want to share it via link, that’s fine.

April 13, 2012October 5, 2024

Zero in the Tarot by M J Stone

A little retrospective, now that we are officially in the Age of Aquarius. This piece was originally published in Parabola, Fall 2001 issue. It illustrates the Fool’s 2000 year journey through the Piscean Age of western civilization, via Tarot imagery. (Appreciation to the author for providing me with an English version and for giving me permission to post). Enjoy!

. . . . . .

ZERO IN THE TAROT
Whirling through the Major Arcana
by MJ Stone

Here I go again, spinning round and round, eyes closed, a quantum leap just waiting to happen. Flirting on the brink, whirling like a dervish, I am the primordial force, the Nijinsky of the cosmos. To most I am a fool, but to friends I am fondly nicknamed, a zero. Descending, inexperienced into the world, I am air, the breath of life, pure oxygen.

Some call me an eccentric and a know-it-all. But like the Latin, Follis, meaning a bag of wind, I am the conscious impulse that breathes life into the Tarot and my 21 Arcana companions. Beyond comprehension, I am a trickster, a sly fox and a vigilante rabbit, the roadrunner who defies Wiley’s scientific grasp.

Lucky are the mortals who catch a glimpse of me. I am the burning bush of Moses, jump starting life’s evolutionary process. Manifesting in archetypes, in fleeting glimpses, in your dreaming: I begin my dance with the Major Arcana’s Magician, and continue to spin and bedazzle throughout the Piscean Age. By card 21 I complete the circle drawing you into the Age of Aquarius by handing you the World.

Two thousand years ago, I was the essence of the fish and manifest in the man who walks on water, in the shaman who cures the sick and draws Lazarus back from the grave. I am the spirit of that first-century’s quantum leap. I am the message that lives in the heart of the Son of Man; I am card number 1, the Magician.

I represent the spirit of the people where the Christian leap of faith is about to occur. I live in the hearts and minds of Pagan Rome and amongst Northern Europe’s nature-worshipping Druids. I am an incarnation of Morgain, the archetypal goddess and Western, second-century, animistic state of mind. I embody the essence Gaea; I am card number 2, the Druid light, the High Priestess.

I celebrate the union of opposites, where the archetypal Christ marries the Lady of the Lake. I am fertility, the birth of the new faith that catches fire in the third century. I manifest as the pagan projection of Venus transferred onto Mary’s Immaculate Conception. I am card number 3, the Empress.

The quintessence of the Age of Aries is embodied in the Roman Empire. But by century four, the folly of the fish has usurped the pioneering spirit of the ram. From 392 to 395 Theodosius the Great reigns as the last Emperor of a United Rome. Representing the advancements of a previous age, I embody the spirit of the Tarot’s King Arthur. I am card number 4, the Emperor.

The spark that ignites the fire and seizes hold of your imagination is the fifth-century form that I take. I am the inspiration that fires the mystic hearts of Saint Augustine and Saint Patrick. Saint Augustine wrote City of God in 411 and Saint Patrick returned to Ireland in 432. I am the Rumi of devotion manifest in card number 5, the Dalai Lama of the 22, the Hierophant.

My dance turns transcendental when century six gets under way. I am the love affair that develops between Byzantium and Rome when they are reconciled in 519. I am a united Christian Empire, Venus and Mars in love. I am the harmony and peace projected by card number 6, the Lovers.

I am a seventh-century noble and heavy-metal warrior for the Christian world, inspiration for the Silver Tower, the first order of knighthood that was established by the High King Balmord the Red in 653. I emerge in the legend of the Holy Grail. I am the archetypal Lancelot, card number 7, the Charioteer.

Out of knighthood springs the flower of chivalry. I am the eighth-century dance that occurs when Charlemagne becomes king of the Franks in 771 and is crowned the first Holy Roman Emperor. Grace, courtesy and devotion form the trilogy his reign inspires, attributes best exemplified by the chaste and fair lady of the Tarot, card number 8, Justice.

Following on the heels of infinite hope comes infinite despair in the ninth century. Louis the Pious succeeds Charlemagne in 814. He is a conscientious Frank who demonstrates that he is an able general and administrator. But on the throne the kindly Emperor is easy prey to schemers, the worst being his own children. Having divided his Empire amongst his sons, he finds, to his grief, that not only do they war among themselves, but they turn on their royal benefactor, forcing Louis to abdicate and seek refuge in a monastery. Such is the dance of a lonely monarch, the King Lear of the Tarot, I am the spirit of card number 9, The Hermit.

When the tenth century rolls round, the Christian world is a ship of fools sailing for an unknown disaster.. Wild musings and millennial fears motivate the hearts and minds of the medieval collective. But by wheel of time proves kind and the thousand-year anniversary of Christ’s life passes without cataclysmic consequence. I am benevolent and kind, the embodiment of fate as represented in card number 10, the Wheel of Fortune.

The first quantum leap of the new millennium is inspired by social activism. I am the spirit that catches fire in the wife of Leofork, earl of Mercia, when Lady Godiva makes her stand. She persuades her husband not only to found monasteries at Coventry and Stow, but also obtains a reduction in the excessive taxes levied by her husband by consenting to ride naked through the town on a white horse. Only one person disobeyed her orders to remain behind closed shutters; that old fool of a tailor, Peeping Tom, peeks through his window and is immediately blinded by Godiva’s radiant projection. In the Tarot, I am fair and beautiful. I am seen holding open the jaws of that proud lion, Leo(fork); I am card number 11, Strength.

I manifest in the profound convictions of a man who is hung out to dry for what he believes in. A sword’s crushing blow extinguishes the life of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, on a cold December evening as he ascends the steps of his altar. The brutal event sends tremors through 12th-century Europe. Blame for the murder lays at the feet of Becket’s former close personal friend, King Henry II, who can’t bear that Becket would challenge his authority. I am the indestructible spirit that lives in the heart of martyrs. In the Tarot, I am the archetype of thwarted potential, card number 12, the Hanged Man.

The dance of the infinite is a single-minded and hostile interpretation in the 13th century. A low point in religious orthodoxy occurs when the words of prophets are manipulated to inspire fear. So begins the age of Crusades and repression. The dark hostility reaches a crescendo in 1231 when the Inquisition begins. Pope Gregory IX makes the Dominicans responsible for ferreting out heresy. Thus bloomed an age of torture and intolerance. Historically, I manifest as card number 13, a demon angel arriving on horseback who exposes heretics and burns them at the stake. I am Death.

In the 14th century, hope is rekindled when the Renaissance begins in Italy and balance is regained as a consequence of the middle path. So emerges a new age of illumination, spurred on by the likes of Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio and Giotto. I am an invigorated spirituality that rises above the black plague. You find me in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. I am the archetypal, open-minded alchemist and an angel of rational intelligence, card number 14, Temperance.

The reactionary forces of an allied state and church obscure the light again. I am the pure heart of Jeanne D’Arc, burned at the stake, by the British, as a witch after her ecclesiastical trial. I am the essence of the Aboriginal people of the New World that 15th-century Europe discovers, demonizes and brutally conquers. I am card number 15, the face of European power, the Devil.

Against a backdrop of Martin Luther’s proclamation, the start of the Reformation and the publication of Machiavelli’s The Prince, I live in the spirit of the 16th-century humanist, Sir Thomas More, author of Utopia. He is locked up in “the tower” and beheaded as a traitor for refusal to acknowledge the authority of the excommunicated king, that fool Henry the VIII. I am the archetype of righteousness and the ghost that inhabits the murdering place. Struck by a lightening bolt, the inspiration for card number 16, I am the Tower.

By century 17 religious authority is determined to keep science in check. Astronomers challenge the church on the mechanics of the universe. After constructing a telescope, Galileo enlarges humanity’s vision and conception of the universe. In 1610 he sees the moons of Jupiter through his lens. Eight years later Johannes Kepler proposes the last of three laws of planetary motion. But in 1633 the Inquisition forces Galileo to recant his belief in Copernican theory. I manifest in the Night Watch painted by Rembrandt in 1653; I am the intellect that yearns for an ever-widening comprehension of the origins of the universe. In the Tarot, I am card number 17, the Star.

My rebel yell is a call that awakens democracy in the 18th century. In 1775 the American Revolution begins and on July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence is adopted. In 1789 the French Revolution begins with the storming of the Bastille. In 1793 Louis the XVI and Marie-Antoinette are executed. The door is opened for the ultimate rebel, Napoleon Bonaparte. In the Major Arcana, I am a wolf howling at midnight, an iconoclast who eclipses the sun’s bright light and undermines its authority. I inhabit the spirit of card number 18, I am the Moon.

Free of the limitations that church and state once imposed, the new world democracy throws open the doors of science. I am the spirit of invention inspired by the likes of Joseph-Nicephore Niepce, who takes the world’s first photograph in 1826. I shine in the brilliance of F. B. Morse, who patents the telegraph in 1844. I’m present in 1866 when Alfred Nobel invents dynamite, when Alexander Bell patents the phone in 1876, and, three years later, when Edison perfects the electric light. In 1892 I provide the impetus that led to the Diesel engine being patented and I’m present when Pierre and Marie Curie discover radium and polonium in 1898. The philosopher of the century is Nietzsche, who set forth some of the existential ideas that made him famous, namely, the proclamation that “God is dead.” Nietzsche’s atheism — his account of “God’s murder” — was voiced in reaction to the conception of a single, ultimate, judgmental authority who is privy to everyone’s hidden, and personally embarrassing, secrets. In the Tarot I am the bright light of reason, I am the spirit of the collective, I am an ego that imagines itself all radiant; I am card number 19, the Sun.

God is dead and the 20th century turns quantum. We are flying high, airplanes in sky, the dance is an automated, nuclear fandango. I am present in the advances of Einstein, The Wright Brothers and Henry Ford. But I am also twisted out of shape by two world wars, Hiroshima, the Cambodian Killing Fields, the Holocaust and the ongoing wars in the Balkans. I am a small step for a man and a giant leap for mankind. But I am, also, hubris, egotism and greed. I am the glory of intellect and its despair when it functions disconnected from the heart. That’s when I manifest in the extinction of species, in global warming, overpopulation. I am the volatile environmental legacy that children are inheriting. I am the edge on which the collective dangerously waltzes. You recognize me as millennial fear. In the Major Arcana, I am the angel who trumpets the dead from their resting place, card number 20, Judgement.

And into the 21st century, arms extended, the cosmos whirling around, I give you the Aquarian age. I embody the new century. I dance the dance of the mystical mother, the provider of life and all your immediate metaphysical frontiers. I am the intellect and heart of the living, breathing earth. I am your goddess, your scientific, subjective point of view, as object of faith. I am your garden and worthy of worship. I am the third planet in the solar system, a mystic top, whirling on axis, perfectly illuminated in the sun of infinite Buddha light. I am the deity of the new millennium. The goddess lives. I am hope and promise, card number 21. I manifest in nature, I am the World.

Featured Tarot de Marseille cards: Dodal (Fool) and Conver (World)

September 11, 2011April 10, 2024

Eleven Power and Twin Towers

Today, Americans are marking the 10th anniversary of September 11. Nobody will ever be able to forget where they were that morning, nor the striking footage – somehow shot so clearly from every angle possible – of the world’s tallest skyscraper disintegrating into smoke before our very eyes.

At this time every year, I am compelled to zoom out and view the extensive symbolism surrounding the the Twin Towers, which stood for three decades as the financial matrix of the world. Two images stand out and contrast in my mind; one of Philippe Petit playfully defying death, atop a tightrope, (the beginning), and one of people falling to theirs from the burning buildings (the end). Both are of mythic proportion, completely surreal and defy explanation within the scope of our ordinary reality.

Power and the Tower

In a previous post I mentioned how Tarot expresses ‘universal laws.’ It’s as if all the scripts were written (by us) long ago and we just keep re-enacting and revising them…and that is really what myths are – a record of dream-time stories from the collective unconscious, unlike history, which is a record of stories as events, as they occur in the outer world.
Sometimes the fabric between the two realms is lifted or torn and the effect is momentous, impossible to explain. It usually happens when the rational mind (masculine) has become too dominant, threatening the balance of life by depleting us of mystery, magic and awe (feminine). A grand act of surrealism, for better or worse, throws our rational minds into chaos, challenging our set notion of which realm, exactly, we are in. It’s a form of death, when everything familiar suddenly isn’t. And at this opening between the veils (in Greek, the word apocalypse means ‘lifting of the veil’), there is a moment of truth or grace, when time just stops and feels infinite at once. This is the expression of the ‘mute’ number, 11. In Marseille Tarot arcanum 11, La Force, the Goddess’ hat is shaped like a lemniscate or number 8, signifying her infinite dominion over balance, truth, paradox, law and order in the natural world.

11 is the master number of illumination and inspiration. If it shows up, that’s usually a sign. World players know of the number’s power and have tried to invoke it – Armistice was signed on 11/11 at the 11th hour and Prince William and Kate Middleton were married on the 29th (reduces to 11) day of the month at the 11th hour in 2011. The towers themselves formed a colossal 11, as if standing in constant invocation to the heavens. And they were twins. In both alchemy and cross-cultural myth, twins embody the duality (and paradox) that each of us must work with, overcome and unify, a theme that reappears over and over in Tarot. Another duality we create and reckon with is between ourselves and what we imagine as God. Any act of balance or karma takes the form of Judgement in our minds, as if we are being rewarded or punished by events we have no control over.
A tower is, of course, an overtly masculine symbol. It’s La Maison Dieu, ‘God’s House.’ Putting aside Babel for a moment, in Tarot duality terms, that means the opposing and uniting force that knocks down the ego, blows it’s mind or brings it to climax is feminine – ‘La Force’ of arcanum 11.

The Supreme Mother Goddess, Durga, whose name means ‘Fortress’, rides a lion or tiger. (Bengal, late 19th/early 20th c)

Enter the Solar Hero

Not surprisingly, the young man who heard the Towers calling him to give them life is a double fire sign, Leo (the Lion) with Aries Moon. He is an agile performer, the fearless star of his own show – an artist who creates from the heart and performs dramatically daring feats. Aries is also the Fool, the ‘wise child’ and the hero who lives for the next mission. Sun conjunct Pluto indicates a person who was born with a very strong feeling of destiny, of having something to show to the world that will transform consciousness. His Jupiter, Lord of the Sky is in Capricorn (mastery, the corporate world). Not everyone with this combination would use their faith and skill to literally ascend to the summit of the world’s tallest banking institution, yet, for him, it was the only way. Fire is known for it’s ego size and you’d have to have one as tall as the Towers themselves to want to perform a feat like this, or indeed to have built such monoliths in the first place. The difference is that Philippe, wise Fool, always maintained his connection with the universe and was keenly aware of his place in it:

“At some point in one of the crossings, I lay down on the wire and looked at the sky, and I saw a bird above me. And again, because… my senses were [decoupled]. I could see that bird pretty high up, and I saw the eyes were red. And I thought of the myth of Prometheus there. But the bird was circling and looking at me as if I was invading his territory, as if I was trespassing, which I was. So at some point I thought the gods – the god of the wind, the gods of the towers, the god of the wire – all those invisible forces that we persist in thinking don’t exist, but actually rule our lives – might become impatient, might become annoyed at my persistent vagabondage there. So my intuition told me it was time for me to close the curtain on this very intimate performance…”

Zero Ground

The archetype of the Fool in Tarot is one who has left the realm of perceived reality, of wealth, possessions, pain and attachments. It sounds a bit like dying, but it’s actually freedom from death. Transcendent, he wafts between forms like a breeze and has no fear of reaching the end. He knows there isn’t one, so is free to live life “1000%.” Most of us find it hard to get past the more finite idea of death. It’s terrifying, like the Grim Reaper in arcanum 13 and to be avoided at all costs. The two figures strike a very similar pose (this feature is unique to Tarot Marseille), plus, one is unnumbered, while the other is unnamed – it would seem they illustrate the dual experiences of facing imminent death, as depicted in the two photographs at the opening of the post.

We are eternal. Peace.

All written content herein, except quotation, is © Roxanna Bikadoroff and may not be re-used without my permission. Kindly share via link only. Thanks for respecting.