The Star

The Star came to me after a long season of endings. XVII is the card that arrives once everything false has burned away, and what remains is quiet, naked, and honest.

She kneels between water and earth, pouring from two vessels: one back into the stream she came from, one onto the land that will hold her. Nothing is wasted. Nothing is kept.

I painted her flat and bright, the way the old tarot decks were painted, so the symbols could speak without decoration — eight stars, one great golden star, a bird waiting in the tree for the moment you look up again.

This piece is for anyone rebuilding. Hang it where you'll see it first thing in the morning.