All humans are creative – but that doesn’t mean great ideas come easily. It can feel like a dark art, searching the ether for that big idea that’ll solve the creative dilemma in hand. So we figured, why not lean into those dark arts for Halloween?
That’s how we ended up celebrating a very 26 Halloween on 28 October as 26ers gathered online to hear from Chelsey Pippin Mizzi, an author, tarot reader, and certified Shadow Work practitioner. And not only did we hear about Chelsey’s own journey from theatre to journalism to fiction and, now, celebrated writer of mystical non-fiction works, we also learned how to use the tarot to unleash your own creativity.
It was partly in service of Chelsey’s new book, Tarot for Creativity, which is out now through Chronicle Books. It’s designed to help you – whether you’re a powerful cartomancer or a curious novice – to tap into your imagination, overcome blocks, and deepen your relationship with your art, all using one powerful tool: tarot.
But it was mainly in service of the creativity of 26ers. Chelsey led us through two different exercises, each based around a card pulled at random. At first, we wrote haikus inspired by the 8 of Pentacles; and then, we had a 3-card spread to inspire a beginning (3 of Swords), middle (Ace of Cups), and end (The Star).
We hope you enjoyed your time with the cards and learned a few tricks to keep you going, because the writing done in this workshop was truly great – a few attendees have sent in some of their scribbles for your delectation, and we present them below.
In the meantime, we’re hoping to get Chelsey back in the future; her book on The Shadow Path is due out in January through Pan Macmillan!
– Lauren McMenemy
Haikus by Julia Webb-Harvey
She picks up her pen
Pours her soul into her craft
Sends worlds tumbling
Writer scratches words
Planting seeds for minds unknown
to reap what is sown
The tightrope wobbles
Writer outstretches her pen
Takes another step
Haikus by Hester Thomas
Swift the day flows on
hours fly from pens black with ink
to darken the hours gone
Seventy seven
years of friendship, love forlorn
Memories’ lost ghost
Happy the child born
Mid winter’s ride to chill dawn
And slide to warm day
Triple seared heart
A fountain overfloweth
Eight stars the blue pool
Haikus and a drabble by Kat Day
the star forms from lines
each line made from tiny marks
each mark, bonds broken
the answer is there
move forwards and you’ll find it
inside the practice
But at least, I said to myself, that one thing was not a lie. A tiny bright flicker of hope in the blackness. Until the day I learned that even that was no more than an angler fish’s lure, phosphorescence pretending starlight. Teeth hidden in hope. My tears were nothing, drops in an ocean. I cried them anyway. Then I closed my eyes. And there… in the darkness behind… I found my own light. A spark of hope and joy and safety. A blue flame, small, but stubborn, and which can not be extinguished. This I know, because it’s mine.
Drabble by Lauren McMenemy
The stabbing pain cuts deep, a direct hit to my heart. Grey skies gather clouds bursting with moisture, ready to wash away all traces of me.
I close my eyes, cross my palms.
I disappear, I dissolve.
I die.
But from high above, a dove of peace dives, my very soul its target. Patching me with feathers, with blood, with bone, it offers grace. Cupped in a gentle embrace, I feel myself repair and renew. I open my eyes and emerge, washed gently in golden ponds, thirst sated by clear waters.
I am reborn, part of the night sky forevermore.