A WALK AMONGST THE TOMBSTONES

Currently my camera is broken, so here is a picture of me visiting W.B Yeats grave in 2011...hey, it's on the same theme :-)

I consider myself quite a spiritual person, and usually talk to God, Jesus, that sort of thing, but the past few years I’ve been talking with my relatives. I’m not sure I would class it as “praying”, but then maybe talking to them at all is a form of praying. I’ve found though that when I talk at the gravesite very quickly I start to include the whole graveyard in my chat. I don’t even know them but I sometimes think that the dead might be starved for human interaction. Most people, at least in this part of the country, visit gravesides only to lay down some flowers and then leave. The argument is that people have busy lives, families to attend to. I understand that. Besides, the dead are…well, gone right?

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But what if they aren’t? What if they’re still hanging around, wanting a visit, and the loved one never stays anymore than a few minutes and leaves. We wouldn’t do that in during a family visit to a relative, we wouldn’t even do it during a hospital visit. We’d feel awkward if we spent less than 5 minutes every time we visited a relative. Without the vocal interaction though we’d be forgiven for thinking we’re wasting our time. We might even feel a bit delusional to be talking to someone that isn’t visibly there.
 
I’ll say this. I’ve visited the grave a few times when I felt defeated and ruined. I’ve told a graveyard full of people all my worries and it felt like a weight off my shoulders. I don’t want it to come off like I am some kind of emo or goth. I don’t think I am. I don’t follow those cultures. I’m just saying that having someone to confide in that won’t cause an argument or pass judgement is one of the best feelings in the world. I’m not convinced that has anything to do with “talking to the dead”, but rather speaking vocally, in a private place, without judgement, the things on your mind. You can talk to whomever on the beach, in the forest etc. Much of Ireland is Catholic, and although I was raised Protestant, I can only guess that it’s probably similar to confessional. Ever since meeting Christine, I’ve been living in my local town as opposed to out in the country and it’s a good opportunity to visit my granma. I know my granma has passed on; it’s not that I am delusional. I know she’s not “there” in the materialistic sense we’re used to, but I like to think she’s there, maybe as some astral form. If she isn’t, well, that’s fine too. At this point it’s all a matter of faith, of belief.
 
So that’s a little of what I’ve been up to. Again a big thank you for the customers who give me the excuse to get away from the art table, and just remember that up until Christmas I’m going to include a free original hand sketched artwork (ACEO sized) with every tarot bag/pouch sale. Hey, if I’m at the table most of the day, it makes sense to do a few cool original artworks for you guys.

UPDATE: Since writing this article,  Yoav Ben-dov, one of the greats in the Tarot community, has passed on. As is often the case in social media, we befriend people who, often, we'll never meet, and never really get to know fully. For me Yoav Ben-dov was this kind of friend. I didn't know Yoav Ben-dov too well but he liked a lot of our artworks and it has only been recently that we realised that he was actually a big deal. So we would like to take the opportunity to wish Yoav Ben-dov a safe travel!