Tarot mini reflection: small hands which spill the wine

Deck: the deviant moon tarot deck

Spread: the four of swords spread designed by asaliearthwork, (https://www.asaliearthwork.com/blog/2016/12/21/solstice-four-of-swords-restwork-spread)

Reflection:

  • Bottom: What is my sleeping path?
    • The Tower
      • Falling from the tower, a sudden upset/upheaval/change. As he falls his fancy coattails unfurl behind him, so well dressed, doesn’t stop the fall. The tower crumbles.
  • Left: Nightmare (relationship to fear)
    • Seven of Wands, reversed
      • She’s running thru the woods, small hands lifted in surrender/defense. There are bleeding scratches on her arms and legs, perhaps from the thorny thicket of wands growing all around her, each of which is topped with a claw-like flower. Her childlike hands stick out to me. This scene makes me think of the violent tussel I went through the last time I saw my father, and parent’s general interest in perceiving me as a lost child in the woods, incapable of finding my own way. Smothered and helicoptered for her entire life, how can this child make things happen for herself?
  • Right: Dream (relationship to hope)
    • 2 of cups
      • A bond, lovers, attraction, two energy-complexes come together. The female figure on the card has a hand resting on her belly, funny to me as bellyrubbing has been a frequent part of this relationship. The male figure, a skeleton wearing a red coat lined with gold, makes me think of a pirate. Seems to relate to Angel, who I in a sense “ran away to sea” with.
  • Top: What is my waking path?
    • 8 of cups, reversed
      • She moves on, away from the culmination of her past achievements. Perhaps she is seeking a deeper truth, one that speaks to her emotional and spiritual senses. Like I have left school and haven’t looked back yet, escaping the boxlike learning of university and family life.

 

Kink, Graffiti, and a Rabid Dog

My university has morphed to the size of a national park. I am running through nature in search of a secret hideout I have made to hide from my irl ex-lover Paul. In flight I ponder my mixed feelings for the kinky sex we share. On one hand, I fear and loathe having certain boundaries crossed by him. Yet despite leaving him several times, I still seek his particular brand of sexual pain. With him I experience a sense of utter surrender that I have found nowhere else in my life.

He finds me in the forest. I lay with him for a little bit….


I have painted something on a lecture hall chalkboard in the middle of the night. Later, I am confronted by Anya, one of my art professors, who very calmly asks me if I did it. She seems to be implying that it has been well received and people are curious to find the creator. I stand silent before her, weighing in one hand the prospect of fame-filled career and the other, the freedom of certain anonymity.

In real life, I have left university for about a month now, where I have been studying art. Instead of completing my final class required for the completion of my degree – not an art class, but a general ed requirement to be taken over the summer- I have run off with a stranger who offered me a life on the road. I have been living/loving in the desert for the past few weeks and we are now traveling north, having reached a major city in the northern area of my state. The person I have been traveling with espouses an artistic life that doesn’t revolve around commercialization and self-promotion as well as feeding into my life-long desire to live off the grid.


I go for a walk outside the van. A caramel colored little poodle is hunched over a carcass of some sort, eating.. i stop, and it turns to look at me ¬†with. It’s eyes are rabid. A moment passes, then it leaps on me and sinks in its teeth. I try to shake it off but can’t so I start screaming in attempt to scare it off.

In real life, I start screaming so Angel wakes me up. I don’t think I have ever screamed myself into waking reality before, which is something quite common for my father, who my mother and I frequently saved from rocky dreams.

Feeling-experience and visual 7/3/17

Feeling: deep pain all throughout my chest/upper body, like I’ve been stabbed with several knives by somebody I love and trust, feeling lost/betrayed/abandoned.

Image: darkness all around, first thing I see is a hag with white hair, white and purple wings stretching out towards me, far off in the darkness, a small tomboy-looking child. The hag stretches towards me and I feel fearstruck, stuck in place.

Ghost Hands/Trip with a Lover

I am falling asleep in the van, in and out of consciousness. Angel is talking with Jerry just outside the vehicle, and I lie there uncertain if I should come out. At one point, I sit up. I look into my body and see my astral hands in perfect vision, but they are gray and ghostly, in a way that makes me fear I am decaying inside. After all, shouldn’t the astral body be full of light and rainbows or glittering to some degree? I conclude that I must be doing the wrong thing, coming on this trip…that I might, I must, be rotting myself from the inside out. Then Angel comes and shakes me and I feel better.

Flashes…I am in my parent’s new apartment, I hear someone calling for me, or perhaps a parent tells me someone is calling me. I step out into the balcony, look down and to the left, New Lover, someone I have never seen before, black male-assigned with long braids and a femme outfit is smiling and waving at me, beckoning me to come find him. I get my clothes on and run out to meet him. As we drive off, I put my feet up on the deck and he admires my platform mary janes while showing me his platformed heeled boots.

Dream: I Uncover Death; The Celebration

We are in a giant pumpkin patch maze looking for the party that my entire family is throwing for me. I am wearing leather boots that are a little gothy with a high heel. Haystacks tower several feet above me on all my sides.

Paul is there, dressed in the burgundy and purple paisely shirt I love so much. He bows, holding my hand and kisses it, I see the love burning behind his slightly red eyes.

I pull him close. Kiss him goodbye and walk away. I do not know if he knows it is our last kiss, but I intend for him to realize it by sunset so as to save himself the embarrassment of seeing my family.

I materialize with Tom somewhere, who I feel somewhat obligated to watch over. I take him into the place where all my family is gathered. He speaks for a long time, in a monologue, talking about his life. I get the feeling that everyone is waiting for him to finish, increasingly growing humorous. He jokes that he is a temporary artist. My aunt blurts “She is an artist, and not temporary.” Then Johnny comes to escort Tom away; I come too.

When I return, everyone is trying to give me advice and wants to film me. I am switched to the viewpoint of the film, which is from below my face. They start touching my face, dragging their thumbs across my face, making my skin ripple slightly. I look indifferent to the groping, but a little pleased to be on the camera. I have tattoos all over my face.
Something says to me. “Death: accepting inemotion.”

Dream: All the Femmes in One Room

First, there’s me and Vi walking through campus in a haze of sun and sea sweat, our arms linked. We stop at the Starbucks (most unlike us IRL). I feel melancholy inside there, and I want to buy things to remember us all by. The coffee shop has all sorts of goodies pop out at me, especially a silver moon decor piece with purple hanging chains from it, holding more silver plates. I get in line and purchase a powerpuff girls wallet as well as some stuffed animals. But  I steal the moon – then walk out of the coffee shop without telling my friends or saying goodbye.
I find a schoolbus, full of excited girls/femmes who are wearing colorful clothes. There is no bus driver, but the bus moves on its own. Everything is fine and dandy and then we suddenly reach what appears to be the top of a roller coaster…the road pointing vertically down. The bus rolls on forward and someone behind me yells excitedly “Don’t fake it!!!!” We all scream and squeal as the bus twists and falls its way back to the ground, never leaving the railing. 

Then we all make our way to what is decided will be our new hideout. Party clothes and stuffed animals everywhere. We get to the hideout and there’s a fridge like space where we all pile up our clothing. I busy myself organizing and feeling kind of separate from the rest of the femme’s excitement.

Journey 6/16/17 via mirror gazing

First I see a hunched dark shadow. I approach it and it scratches desperately at me. I say I just want to love you and see you. Eventually it reveals itself to me. She has my head, shaved and all, but has the body of a young girl. I watch her struggle to accept my love, but she lets me hold her eventually. She then stands before me, shakes a little, and transforms into a tutu and other flowing clothing. She twirls. She asks me to dance with her. We dance for some time, then she backs away from me. She looks scared and uncertain, maybe like she doesn’t know if she can trust me. I feel like a parent figure this whole time. She is suddenly naked. She stands before me for some time, just looking at me, and going through emotions in her head. Eventually she sits, cross-legged, and picks at her skin, pulling it back to reveal a bright shining light coming through. I watch her as she slowly unravels and her body sheds eventually, and she is made of light.

Dream: The Thief in the Hidden Library

We’re camping in the desert, me and my family. Now in the physical realm I do not have any siblings, but in this realm I have a brother and a sister. We wander off, and I carry with me a book of unknown description. We find a forest. The trees completely engulf us as we wade deeper into the greenery. I trail off behind my siblings who race forward to a black, mesh, tubelike bridge that crosses a great cliff opening. The tube is so narrow that we have to crawl inside. On our hands and knees we make it through to the other side, another forest, but before us lies a tall wooden library, softened by age and rainfall. We enter the library, which is abandoned except for a middle-aged woman walking decisively through the stacks, mumbling to herself every now and then. I hope to myself that the Librarian will not think the book I have is hers and force me to give it to her. My brother and sister wander. I think to myself, “This is a beautiful old library and I must steal a book to bring back with me, since I will not be returning to this place anytime soon I will not be able to return a book otherwise.” At some point, I realize I have picked up a book of fairy-tales and that the Library is going to close soon. I scramble around as I wait for the perfect opportunity to sneak out of the library. Then I realize the Librarian is about to leave, so I make for the exit and step out just before her. To my relief, no alarms go off as I walk through with the stolen book and make for the bridge. I start to crawl through the bridge and notice it is collapsing behind me; giant rocks are falling on top of the tunnel behind me, and I scramble towards the end of the bridge. As I plop out the end of the bridge, my brother and sister are nowhere in sight, and gone too is the Forest. I am instead in a vast tundra, snow falling lightly all around me.