re: Chica Umino's
"March Comes In Like a Lion"

many times, i am working on a project and it stops dead in my heart.

[AB]

i'm chasing down a thought that follows a conversation in Paradise in response to my 'On not creating desire'.

i read v buckenham's "On creating desire" and i knew, i immediately knew, that it was the very thing i am opposed to.

desire like plastic is useful, it can even be beautiful, but we manufacture it at a global scale and what do we get? nothing good.

banning plastic straws is not the solution.

[AB]

nine cups are arranged in a neat three-by-three grid. our character is there, with the suggestion of a closed eye, in an otherwise blank, white void.

todo

a figure stands atop a sand dune beneath a blazing yellow sun, wielding a wand as a staff. there is nothing else in the desert but a great tower seen downhill, its dark mouth open.

the page of wands hopes to make a discovery in this barren land. they have taken a risk to get this far, based on nothing but this hope. as with all court cards, this card speaks to the character rather than the situation:

one who pursues the chance of monumental discovery or achievement, disregarding all else.

pursued by white mist, a character who appears to be made of mist themselves crosses a body of water on a boat. they lead with one sword held ahead of them, as though to cut obstacles out of the way. a second sword sits in the back of the boat. but four more are sinking beneath the waves.

a sword, representing rational thought, is wielded to lead the way. but many are being left behind, lost forever. the character's relationship to their environment is unclear, but they do not belong here and are moving in the opposite direction to the mist, what is their most apparent kin.

leaving something behind, making a necessary change that comes with inevitable loss.

the solitary character descends into a hole in the earth. they leave behind eight neatly stacked cups, on the night of a full moon.

what is on the surface is incomplete, in perception or in reality. the moon, though full, is partially obscured. and the eight cups are not yet ten. furthermore, the way that they are stacked suggests a lack of understanding: we know that ten represents completeness, but the one stacking did not know just how close they were.

the character, mid-descent, gazes further down into the abyss below, looking at something that we cannot see: the card does not show us, readers, what is down there. it is possible that the character is as blind as we are. it is also possible that they in fact know very well what they are looking for, and see it clearly at the bottom.

abandoning partial solutions in favour of something deeper.

three worlds are visible, overlapping. three characters each in their own world holds up a cup. despite the substantial disconnect, we can see that they manage a toast. the cups and the particles from the different worlds overlap slightly, even when the characters and their worlds themselves cannot.

each of these two-tone worlds is in its own way idyllic, containing their own sorts of flowers: in the field, in pots around town, and at the top of the cliff. the characters' poses are merry and celebratory. in the background of all three worlds is a bright blue sky.

a joyous social reconnection, which overcomes any distance.

a pair of cups are surrounded by a white box. on the right of the box, a green-and-white character reaches for the cups. on the left, a more abstract orange-and-yellow character mirrors the other, performing an unknowable action. this takes place in a forest surrounded by formless grey.

the two cups, representing emotion, are as close as cups can get. each artwork is made of 11 tiles horizontally; in order to center this pair of objects, the two cups each share half of a central tile. the characters are caught, too, halfway between tiles -- between the cups' union, and the world outside.

maybe the grey that surrounds is a fog, which the powerful light of the cups clears. or perhaps it is the outside world falling out of focus, diminishing and disappearing.

a pure and illuminating union of emotion between two. all else may not be visible.

a section of abstract architectural structure inlaid with three glowing coins separates the dark green underground from a sliver of sky, barely visible above.

one character stands at the top of a set of stairs in the background, presenting or reaching for the central coin-bearing section of the structure. further ahead of this background character is a fall into a pit, followed by a plateau. this character's journey is laid out for us to observe: their past, and perhaps their future.

two characters observe from the foreground. they are not participating in the journey but from their position they see -- as we see, as readers of the card -- what the character in the background cannot. and, between them, they share different expressions; even the two observers seeing everything do not necessarily have the same response.

at this moment, different perspectives are coming together. the collective action is productive, as long as these perspectives remain simultaneously distinct and focused on a shared goal.

a character stands on the crest of a hill, supporting the center of a slightly off-balance lever. on either side of the lever, a single coin, light reflecting off their faces. the character is surrounded by sparkles, indicating triumph or a triumphant attitude.

to the left, a second character has lost their balance and is falling off the side of the hill. to the right, a third has fallen headfirst into a hole. these non-central characters are desaturated in colour, brought out of focus -- they indicate the potential for struggle and failure, in the self or in others, or in the past or the future of the querent.

a moment in which glorious balance between opposites is possible.

impulsive, and headed in what appears to be the wrong direction, ...