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Found Tarot
Nov. 4th, 2003 02:24 am
Two of Wands
direct the action around you, hold the world in your hands, wield influence, take a risk, seize the day, invent something new, create your own style, be yourself
Nov. 4th, 2003
Two of Wands
direct the action around you, hold the world in your hands, wield influence, take a risk, seize the day, invent something new, create your own style, be yourself
I was up all night finishing up a draft to see if I had written a story, and sending it off to a few wonderful people who offered to Beta the beast with no more information than that. It is getting mixed reviews in feedback, but it seems to be swinging the vote toward working out the bugs. I need to let it sit for a few days now.
I slept a few hours in the middle of the day, and thought I would catch up to my mail and maybe (maybe) write in a different place. But Chris called and kidnapped me to dinner, and is now sleeping on the couch so we can go off adventuring tomorrow.
We have been collecting images for the found tarot for years, and had some great if sometimes dissimilar ideas and images. My posting cards has encouraged her to look for the box where she kept hers - its gone. Possible a casualty of one of the many moves she made for awhile, possibly a slightly more unhappy circumstance. But gone, all the same.
Tomorrow we are going to set off in search of cards. posters and photos, and see what we come home with.
I slept a few hours in the middle of the day, and thought I would catch up to my mail and maybe (maybe) write in a different place. But Chris called and kidnapped me to dinner, and is now sleeping on the couch so we can go off adventuring tomorrow.
We have been collecting images for the found tarot for years, and had some great if sometimes dissimilar ideas and images. My posting cards has encouraged her to look for the box where she kept hers - its gone. Possible a casualty of one of the many moves she made for awhile, possibly a slightly more unhappy circumstance. But gone, all the same.
Tomorrow we are going to set off in search of cards. posters and photos, and see what we come home with.
Chris cajoled me out at some ungodly hour (it was daylight! Arrrgh!) and we traveled companionably along beside the Delaware River. Everything was gold, the light, the leaves, the contentment. We were in search of images, but we found few. We did have a great time, managed not to get lost following a detour (an achievement of epic proportions - generally Jim and Chris can both manage to miss a well known exit if I'm in the car - apparently it has something to do with the fact that I never shut up)
In and out of over-warmed little shops, a surfeit of incense and candles, Chris smelling warm and deliciously of grapefruit and vanilla, me developing a desire for a carving of harvest mice in late wheat...
We found ourselves in the children's section of the bookstore, looking for Yulies (christmas presents). In a bookstore, Chris and I are song with a chorus that goes: "Look! I love that book!" And while Chris selected a volume of traditional fairytales for her niece, I found a section of reprints of Rosemary Sutcliff. I replaced all my Roman Britain volumes a few years back, but I can never resist picking them up and holding them in my hands. Sutcliff was one of the writers I loved as a kid, but I had not realized just how much her actual writing style affected me -- there it was, the elusive tone and voice I hear in my head when I am trying to capture words in a net made of paper. I found out today that Chris had never read her, So I opened Dragon Slayer, (her retelling of Beowulf) at random and read a random line aloud:
She was of the same kind as Grendel, monstrous, evil, a Death-Shadow-In-The-Dark; but she had possessed the power to love, and she had loved her son, and was therefore more terrible than he had ever been.
*sigh*
In and out of over-warmed little shops, a surfeit of incense and candles, Chris smelling warm and deliciously of grapefruit and vanilla, me developing a desire for a carving of harvest mice in late wheat...
We found ourselves in the children's section of the bookstore, looking for Yulies (christmas presents). In a bookstore, Chris and I are song with a chorus that goes: "Look! I love that book!" And while Chris selected a volume of traditional fairytales for her niece, I found a section of reprints of Rosemary Sutcliff. I replaced all my Roman Britain volumes a few years back, but I can never resist picking them up and holding them in my hands. Sutcliff was one of the writers I loved as a kid, but I had not realized just how much her actual writing style affected me -- there it was, the elusive tone and voice I hear in my head when I am trying to capture words in a net made of paper. I found out today that Chris had never read her, So I opened Dragon Slayer, (her retelling of Beowulf) at random and read a random line aloud:
She was of the same kind as Grendel, monstrous, evil, a Death-Shadow-In-The-Dark; but she had possessed the power to love, and she had loved her son, and was therefore more terrible than he had ever been.
*sigh*