There’s been a lot of doll-making around lately.
Firstly came the little cat – a birthday present made from an old jumper. For the sake of this being a tarot blog, I’m calling her the Page of Swords – curious and inquisitive, enthusiastic to get discovering stuff:
Then a big-you-up protest doll for a friend who needs reminding sometimes. I’m calling this one the Three of Cups – a bit of support from your mates:
Then I got into my stride and made a ‘positive voodoo’ princess – on the surface, demure and well-dressed, a perfect lady…
…yet beneath her fancy dress, a heart full of pins, to be used for pain relief and displacement of hearthache, maybe when it’s not totally practical to just let it all out publicly. I think she might be Strength – maintaining a calm control over her demons and her fears without denial, exuding dignity and compassion.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the doll I’d receive in return. The Queen of Swords!! And what a queen she is. Those big, all-seeing eyes (not without a generous dose of craziness in them), regal shawl and glamourous dress, well-coiffed hair (well, maybe), pearly earrings and her giant silver sword, pointing straight up into the clear blue sky, a symbol of the wisdom she has gained through bitter experience.
I’m not sure whether I told her maker that the Queen of Swords was my favourite of all the characters of the tarot, or whether she just found her sword in a charity shop and took things from there. Either way, she’s my new oracle. Sitting with my cards, guarding them, I’ll go to her for guidance when I can’t tell right from wrong. My own personal Pat Butcher. And that’s something I reckon we all need.
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