Hey everyone, diving into my artist’s inner vision journey today felt like herding cats at first. Grabbed three wildly different tarot decks from my overflowing shelf: a minimalist black-and-white one, a psychedelic neon monstrosity, and this vintage floral set my grandma gifted me. Figured I’d test which vibe actually sparked creativity instead of just collecting dust.
The Hot Mess Experiment Phase
Started shuffling that neon deck at sunrise – felt like mainlining glitter. Cards screamed “ADD MORE RAINBOWS!!” to my moody charcoal sketch. Nope. Switched to the strict black-and-white deck after lunch. Pulled The Tower card, which basically yelled “YOUR COMPOSITION SUCKS” in all caps. Sketch crumpled into the trash. Total creative constipation.
Almost quit when I spilled chamomile tea all over the vintage deck. Was wiping floral-patterned Death cards with my pajama sleeve when the colors suddenly clicked – those muted teal and rust tones mirrored my neglected watercolor palette. Finally relaxed enough to actually draw instead of stressing about “messages”.
Key discoveries from my chaotic afternoon:
- Bright decks overwhelm subtle ideas – like blasting death metal during meditation
- Harsh imagery triggers my inner critic instead of intuition
- Imperfect decks with history > “perfect” aesthetic decks
- Tea stains add character (and convenient excuses for weird pulls)
How My Granny’s Deck Won
Next morning, skipped rituals. Just flipped random cards while painting. The floral Empress appeared – no grand revelation, just noticed I’d unconsciously painted vine patterns around my subject. That subtle gut-nudge kept happening. Finished three pieces before noon when previously I’d still be angsting over the first sketch.
Weirdly, it isn’t about mystical accuracy. That worn-out deck with tea warping? It physically FEELS like holding creative permission slips. No angelic choirs – just fewer mental blocks while my hands move. Still keeping the other decks though. That neon abomination makes a killer coaster for my ink cups.
