Friday, 30 December 2011


What a beautiful way to end this week with the Crystal Visions Tarot!

Here we have a woman sitting in the crook of a tree, with a wolf beside her and a deer to one side and a little behind her.  There are also female figures carved into or growing out of the two branches that rise to either side of the main figures in the tree crook.  By the roots of the tree, clear crystals sprout from the ground like flowers.  Ten pentacles decorate the tree, six below where the woman and wolf sit, four more to the side and above them.  The pentacles are golden disks with large crystals of varying hues in the centre and six smaller crystals surrounding them.  In the background, a beautiful castle with high turrets is bathed in a radiant light. 

Instead of a traditional family, as seen in the RWS version of this card, here the family is one of the woman's own making: the wolf who leans against her and the deer who gazes up at the two of them, unable to climb the tree.  Although they may not be all the same, they share a bond of friendship that runs deep and true - a family of the spirit, rather than of blood.  The wisdom of ancestors, often depicted by a grandfatherly figure, here takes the form of the wood sprites looking down from the branches that hold the woman and wolf. 

The castle in the background makes me think of the importance of appreciating our home, and making it feel as beautiful and inviting as possible.  I've done quite a bit of that this week: reorganising all my tarot decks into alphabetical order, organising my oracles by genre, doing a big clean on the house and loads of laundry ready for Big Boy to start nursery again next week. 

After yesterday's card, this image also makes me think about the character traits I've inherited from my father.  For several years he worked as a journalist on Fleet Street and although this blog is in no way of that calibre, writing it is a connection between us.  I think he would have approved, had he ever read it, even though he wasn't into tarot.  Still, he loved to write, and he loved imagery, both literary and visual.

I am grateful for the joy in writing I have inherited from my father.

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