"In the distance, a crenellated tower sprouted long arms of orange fire . . . 'It's a beautiful castle,' I said. 'Lancelot might have sequestered his beloved there when he stole her from his king.' 'A castle only good for storing memories and old keys,' he said. 'A castle for us when we were very young,' she said, giving him a sharp look, 'because then as now we had no place to go.'" —Frederic Tuten, Self Portraits: Fictions

"Seeing them made me happy, in a restless way. Happy for their youth and for all their time ahead to be foolish and oblivious to the endings of anything, let alone the end of love." —Frederic Tuten, Self Portraits: Fictions

"Perhaps over time the goddess had become less Greek and more Sicilian, a trickster, granting favors but not the ones prayed for." —Frederic Tuten, Self Portraits: Fictions

(Geometric goddess archetype by Rachel Budde.)

The Fool and The World come together in the "Fool's Cap Map of the World," of unknown origin, dating back to c. 1580. Read more about the map here.

Nothing to do

With the time or the place but I feel it
Like dust on the moon beneath my feet
—Erasure, "So the Story Goes"

(Tarot Luna card by Jason Juta.)

Destiny: a moon eclipsed
In the shadows all is darkness now
—Devo, "I'd Cry If You Died"

Soone as ASTREA shewes her face,
Strait every ill avoides the place,
And every good aboundeth.
—Mary Sidney, Countess of Pembroke, "Astrea" (1611)

Astrea (Astræa) refers to the Greek "star maiden," the celestial virgin.

Note that Mary Sidney is a strong contender for the true author of the Shakespeare plays. See the compelling and convincing Sweet Swan of Avon: Did a Woman Write Shakespeare?

I lift my eyes
To the sound in the sky and I hear it
—Erasure, "So the Story Goes"

(Image from The Payen Tarot of Marseille of 1713. See more images here.)

The Five of Pentacles traditionally reflects hardship, but Umberto Eco paints a different sort of picture of "people who live on the credulity of others ... false paralytics who lie at church doors ... rascals who pretend to be weak in one of their limbs, carrying unnecessary crutches and imitating the falling sickness ... to wrest food or money from the frightened people who recalled the church fathers' exhortations to give alms" (The Name of the Rose).

"Such is the right of the sun: it riddles the wounded man with its rays and all the wounds widen, the man uncloses and extends, his very veins are laid open, his strength is now incapable of obeying the orders it receives and is moved solely by desire, the spirit burns, sunk into the abyss of what it is now touching, seeing its own desire and its own truth outstripped by the reality it has lived and is living. And one witnesses, dumbfounded, one's own raving."
—Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose