Three Women Walk Into a Bar…

Three women walk into a bar. A researcher, an aviatrix, and a magician. I knew these women. All three of them. They are in my life now. Ever present. Inside and outside of myself. Real and imaginary.

That’s how I felt when the three of cups card from The Steampunk Tarot deck popped out during my virgin shuffle earlier today. I recognized these characters. Have known many like them in my life. My mind wandered as I studied the feminine features and sultry scene of the museum quality card. The camaraderie, the fascinations, the intrigue, all hidden within the brush strokes of design. Unfolding in my mind’s eye, at the beckoning of the artist, Aly Fell.

It was therein that I realized a build-upon effort was emerging between artists. One moved to illustrate, another to write. The secondary interwoven from the primary, fixating and feeding off of an original point of creation. In the connection, a new sensory opus of intangibility born. Purposed from a centered consciousness, stimulated from a hive mind of the body heart and soul. A perfect design of the Divine; one exampling a convergence within the time reality we call life. At the very least, a story waiting to be told.

My order of this specialty deck arrived on Saturday. I got around to handling them this afternoon. A very unique deck, the images on each card are glazed in golden hues, as if painted by candle light by a craftsman of the highest regard. As I mixed and shuffled the medium sized cards, I felt my way into the storylines. I transferred my energy in and pulled out the fantastical possibilities of the characters in a classic story. Alive within the illusion I began to play.

Since I hadn’t prefaced the shuffle with a question or desire, and was more of an empty vessel, a child coveting a new toy, I had no predeterminations to relate to the offering of the three of cups when it popped out and onto my desktop. Thusly, I allowed my mind to wander as I explored the depths of this invitation into original thought.

Therein I found a story, one of fantasy, farce and wonderment, limited only by the profundity of my own ideology. Therein the mystery began, an unfolding of inspiration; one where I could awaken as all characters, each a match strike of my greater whole.

So I began to imagine…

Three friends meet once every year and a day, an investigator, a pilot, and a fortune teller all gather in the same bar to rekindle friendships, tell their new stories, make plans for the future and celebrate a bond unique to their uncommon sisterhood. *

The researcher: Buttoned up in appearance and attribute, a working professional, at a time when women were mere domestic decorations, hides a veracious sexual appetite. Never discussed in public, she lets her guard down when amongst this group of close friends. Her research takes her to the depths of concentration on topics from physics to philanthropy as a sought after consultant by intellectuals and financiers, alike. Never married, she harbors a lovers list equal to that of any man, and longs for one thing, a writing partner with whom she can pen, and practice, her dirty sexy fetishes and fantasies. Rambo meets 50 Shades of Grey!

The aviatrix: More masculine in dress and demeanor, this adventurer specializes in transporting treasures of all kinds. Her latest endangerment involved scooping up and skirting off the likes of a local affluent to the highlands of Wales, minutes before the Keystone Koppers came to cart him off to the cooler; a cad whose entrepreneurial endeavors were more scam than profitable venture. Superhero in tendency, her independent nature and mild manners bode well in all social circles. Known only to these confidants, her greatest desire is to be adored by the partner of her dreams, one alive only in the beat of her heart.

The magician: A sibyls from birth, this mystic exudes sensuality while retaining a loyal, and surprisingly conservative view of love and relationship. Days spent over candles and tarot, crystal balls and sage, she finds herself consumed in the search of inheritance lost, maidens in waiting, stalkers in baiting, and secrets in hopes of disclosure on behalf of her flock of followers. Favorite pastime; cooking consumables for the coup of courtesans that co-mingle in classic course in the cottage next door to her apartment in the City. Most precious, and enigmatic virtue, hovelling the homeless in a horserace with the hierophantic sycophants of the hierarchy.

Nope! That’s for you to premonition, envision, and emission. I await your contribution to this ongoing creation.

The point? I am whoever I see myself to be. Real or fantasy. Free to clay anew on demand. And why? Because! That’s why. Because I can. Because it is within my skill, your skill; one wherein we thrive. The true nature of release… of connection with a higher self, a spiritual awareness alive with possibility. Genuine affectation of matter manifestation, formed from the illumination of a comic novel-like quality electromagnified within the holographic universe. One of our own making.

The question shouldn’t be why. It should be why not? If you don’t like how you live, or with whom you share your days, change it! You are the researcher, the aviatrix, the magician!

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* special thanks to The Tarot Review for sharing the image herein, as well as igniting the idea upon which this post was born.




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