GryffinSong
I find this card both powerful and deeply disturbing. A nude woman lies in the forground, either sleeping or dead. She is completely vulnerable, and Death, in the form of a skeleton, holds a huge scythe between her calves. He appears to be grinning hugely. She is draped with some nearly invisible cloths, that provide only the barest of protection. There is writing, apparently in blood, but it cannot be quite made out. It could be her last wishes, a suicide letter, or Death's words. It could be anything. Beetles climb the right side of the card, but ironically, are walking away from her. Perhaps she isn't dead afterall. There are symbols in the upper left. A coffin, a skull and crossbones with a halo, and a dagger crossed with another weapon that I can't quite make out.
There is also a figure behind the woman, but I can't quite make it out either. Perhaps a knight in armor?
The vulnerability of the woman, and the apparent sexual violence of the scythe's position, disturbed me so much at first that I was tempted to put this card away out of my deck for awhile. For now it will stay because it's a deep card, with much to say. If the woman is seen as the shell of who we are, the scythe could be seen as ready to slice that shell open and reveal what is within. That whatever is her deepest, truest self is not yet awakened, and the draperies are her cocoon, waiting to be split open so that she can fly and flourish as the butterfly that lies within.
There is also a figure behind the woman, but I can't quite make it out either. Perhaps a knight in armor?
The vulnerability of the woman, and the apparent sexual violence of the scythe's position, disturbed me so much at first that I was tempted to put this card away out of my deck for awhile. For now it will stay because it's a deep card, with much to say. If the woman is seen as the shell of who we are, the scythe could be seen as ready to slice that shell open and reveal what is within. That whatever is her deepest, truest self is not yet awakened, and the draperies are her cocoon, waiting to be split open so that she can fly and flourish as the butterfly that lies within.
