About this Project
History
The Tarot can be seen as many things: a system of divination, a tool for self-reflection, or simply a diverting pastime. In the broadest sense, it is an attempt to encapsulate a worldview, complete with archetypes and structural principles that reflect how people have made sense of existence. Any such system is inevitably shaped by the culture, geography, and era in which it emerges; its symbols reflect the “known world” and the dominant beliefs of their time.
For decks created in medieval and Renaissance Europe, this meant drawing heavily on Christian imagery. The Church was not merely a religious institution—it was the organizing force of everyday life, law, power, and imagination. Its symbolism permeated art, literature, and philosophy, so it naturally influenced the Tarot as well. There may also have been a practical dimension to this blending of the religious and the occult: embedding Christian elements into a mystical or esoteric tool offered a measure of safety. At a time when heterodox practices could lead to accusations of witchcraft or heresy, aligning one’s imagery with accepted religious iconography provided cover. But Christianity already possesses its own vast symbolic universe—its own art, figures, narratives, and metaphysics. I do not belong to that tradition, so I chose to step outside its framework when designing my deck.
Although the history of the Tarot is not accurately established, the earliest known examples date from around 1450 and were made in Italy. Since the few existing examples from that time feature well-developed imagery and a complex gaming system associated with the cards, they were probably in use decades earlier. Over the centuries, many other systems have been woven into the Tarot—Egyptian motifs, astrological correspondences, alchemical diagrams, and even the numeric structures of Kabbalah. While these additions can be meaningful for those who work within those traditions, they can also obscure the Tarot’s internal logic. I prefer to treat such systems as parallel rather than foundational: valuable in their own contexts, but not necessary to overlay onto the cards themselves. My aim is to honor the clarity of the Tarot’s symbolic language rather than expanding it into a universal repository for esoteric ideas. In doing so, I hope the cards speak in a more focused and coherent voice, grounded in their own history while still open to personal interpretation.
Every historical Tarot deck is an artifact of its moment, shaped by the period dress, social assumptions, and limitations of its time—particularly in matters of gender and the agency afforded to women. I want my deck to function in the same way: unmistakably of its era, yet not tethered to fleeting fashion or novelty. My aim is to create a work grounded in the structure and lineage of the Tarot while speaking through a contemporary visual and symbolic language.
My Process
I seek to honor tradition without being confined by it, to contemporize without trivializing, and to build a symbolic system that reflects my own worldview rather than one inherited by default. In the more than six centuries since the first Tarot decks appeared, history has accumulated new ideas, perspectives, knowledge, and iconography. That expanding richness deserves to be drawn upon now, just as artists did in the fifteenth century—engaging the living present while remaining in conversation with the past.
My artistic process is deliberately layered. These cards are digital collages combining photography with digital painting techniques. I begin by studying traditional and modern versions of each card and examining the symbolism associated with it—drawing equally from historical conventions and my own beliefs and preferences. When a figure appears in a card, I consider who might embody its qualities, often identifying a real person in my life who naturally reflects that archetype.
Next, I create rough sketches to establish each card’s layout. I photograph backgrounds and physical items that will appear in the final composition. I use 3-D posing software to design the character’s posture, proportions, and sometimes the outlines of their garments. I construct the card background first, establishing the color, light, and mood that will guide everything else. The figure and other components are created in separate layered files, allowing me to refine texture, detail, and portraiture in a non-destructive way. Once all the elements are ready, I composite the final image, adjusting and revising until it feels coherent and true to the spirit of the card.
Although I use AI tools while developing a card—both for research and brainstorming—the cards are not AI-generated. These tools serve as a sketchbook of possibilities: a way to test poses, explore symbolic arrangements, or think through variations before I begin creating. The finished images are the result of traditional craft: my own photography, hand-built digital painting, careful compositing, and the many hours spent refining texture, light, and detail. For historical detail I will sometimes rely on open source imagery, for instance adapting an artifact as a repeating pattern or accent. I feel this connection to historical cultures reinforces the symbolic imagery rather than diluting the originality of my creation.
A unifying motif runs through every Major Arcana card in this deck: the presence of a snake. Sometimes it appears openly—as a living creature or a coiled guardian. Other times it takes a subtler form, embedded in a piece of jewelry, a clasp, a belt buckle shaped like an ouroboros, or even suggested through a skeletal snake’s head. I did not begin with the intention of making snakes a signature element, yet they emerged naturally as the work evolved. Snakes have long been associated with transformation, renewal, hidden knowledge, danger, healing, and the cyclical nature of time—qualities that resonate deeply with the Tarot’s own themes. Snakes feel rooted in our primal memory—creatures we evolved alongside and came to fear, even as they became potent symbols in our collective imagination. Their presence in the cards is not decorative; it is a thread woven through the deck, inviting the reader to notice patterns, look more closely, and consider the duality and contradiction inherent in the Tarot.
Atlanta residents may recognize some of the local scenery in my cards. I draw heavily from the area in and around Piedmont Park, the Atlanta Botanical Garden and the buildings and architecture in my Midtown neighborhood.