Long before I started to amass various decks of cards, I amassed 1) big plans and 2) blank notebooks. The idea was to fill up 2) in order to execute 1). The reality is that innumerable black journals have continued to appear and disappear throughout my home according to their own mysterious laws. Some are pretty much filled, others pristine or with just one tantalizing entry from a rapidly receding year. And yes, I’ve done a bunch of things over the years, but not necessarily according to “plan.” Continue reading →
This post is about a lot of things: my Polish grandfather, myself, and some way-cool cards–the pot at the end of a rainbow while searching for a bit of my heritage.
“Old Gypsy Fortune Cards” aka my Polish cards, c. 1920’s-1940’s; reproduction by L. Forestell
There’s no one to ask about my Polish grandfather. He died when I was 6 months old (so it’s safe to say I am not him, reincarnated). He’s a mystery to me–I don’t even have a name by which to call him. We called my grandmother “Busia,” but I never learned the Polish word for grandfather, since he wasn’t there to be called. I usually think of him as “mom’s father” or “my Polish grandfather.” His name was Jan. Continue reading →