When Iris Sleeps Over

What a book she'll write.

I've always been one to ask for answers like some people skip ahead to the last page of a novel when they've barely started. I want the answers almost before the questions are asked -- this has made me so many shades of fun in most of my relationships. So it makes sense that I'm a tarot reader.

My deck depicts Greek myths (a longtime fascination of mine) and in a way can show the reader where they are in the 'story' of their own life. Over here is Temperance, which has always been my root card, and, while it is not my complete story anymore, it will always be at the root of who I am.

In this deck, Temperance has the traditional meaning of seeking or striving for emotional balance. It depicts stasis and fear of change or intensity as much as it does peace and harmony. The actual character here is Iris, a sort of girl Hermes. She's Hera's messenger and the only female messenger that I know of in Greek myth; she's the woman who delivers the word.

I have this exact picture tatooed on my back, without the wings, and got it about twelve years ago in the middle of a blizzard at Huggy Bear's old Brooklyn studio. Afterwards my friend Steve and I had cookies and orange juice with the Bear himself as he showed us his scrapbook. He was a super nice man, who legally changed his name to Huggy Bear because he was, well, a huggy bear. The whole experience was a little like donating blood at a hospital run by the Hell's Angels.

After having this wingless messenger in my heart and on my back all these years, I'm ready to get the wings. In ink, and in metaphor. But the other thing is, after spending so much energy searching for answers, partially to avoid the pain of actually living a life to get to those answers, I see that I already have them, and if I look deep enough, I already know. To my deep surprise, I don't need the cards anymore. And I don't need to pour that little cup of water back and forth for all eternity, trying to get the balance just right. I can stand in the rushing river now. I can let it go.