Embracing the Ephemeral: The Creative Journey Behind The Ghastly Lenormand

Unearthing the Ghastly Lenormand Deck

The journey is almost finished. The long path I embarked on months ago, when I began sharing the creative process behind the Ghastly Lenormand, is reaching an important landmark: only 6 days remain until the end of the Kickstarter campaign. Then, finally, the printing process will start, and what was once a vision in my imagination will become a shared reality, belonging to the world! I am very happy to have given birth to this project. It has attracted many fans and received incredible reviews. When it is printed, fully realized, I am confident people will be even more impressed; I have paid meticulous attention to the quality of every single detail, in an almost obsessive manner.

Running the Kickstarter campaign is a demanding task that requires continuous effort—sharing, talking, promoting. Amidst this, I have been incredibly busy building new prototypes and conducting tests. The coffin-shaped box needed some adjustments to make it as perfect as possible. Of course, we also ran many colour tests.

Colours are an incredibly magical realm with their own rules, oddities, and mysteries. Achieving the exact colours you want is almost impossible due to the many variables: every paper stock absorbs them and reflects light differently; the chemistry of the ink and the offset machinery involved add more variables to the equation. Finally, the coating or lamination changes the appearance of colours. As you can imagine, it is a long and fascinating path, which is why we conducted various tests. I aim to have as much control as possible over this mysterious and elusive equation.

Mockups: to test he box and to test the colours

Speaking of the coffin-shaped box, I realized I never wrote about the importance of the symbols and graphics I have incorporated. It is something very dear to me. For the realisation of the coffin, I researched how the Victorians conceptualized and represented death and all the rituals and paraphernalia associated with this grim topic. They had a penchant for macabre art and the mysteries of the underworld. I spent time wandering among the graves and funerary monuments in various locations in North England and then elaborated on the material I gathered. Victorian cemeteries are like open books where every grave tells the story of its occupant, showcasing their life achievements, professions, and sometimes their passions and loves, especially for their pets. It is common to find statues of resting dogs, eternally waiting for their owners to return. Very touching. Then, of course, there are angels, weeping and mourning, or ascending to the sky—a metaphor for the rising of the soul to the heavens. Sometimes, the symbols are more subtle and need to be deciphered. Some graves show an erect column broken in half, symbolizing that the deceased was taken by death too soon, in the prime of their life. Other times, you can spot carvings of burning torches upside down, symbolizing the extinguishing fire of life.

I pondered using these symbols to decorate the coffin, but then I opted for something more subtle and ancient: the letters Alpha and Omega combined to create a unique monogram. Alpha (Α or α) and Omega (Ω or ω) are the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet and were used in the New Testament in the expression “I am the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end" (Revelation 21:6, 22:13) to refer to God or Jesus Christ. The combination of the two letters can refer to the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. I liked the idea that the end can be a new beginning. I always have in mind the famous quote, “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the rest of the world calls a butterfly” (Richard Bach). Thus, I decided to decorate the sides of the coffin with this monogram alternated with crosses or empty spaces enclosed by elaborate gilded frames. The idea was to capture the void left by death and the mystery of the great beyond as an empty space, forbidden for the living to know or approach. Another motif I drew for the side of the coffin is an open eye without eyelids, the eye that sees everything. I was thinking about the eyes of Death, from which there is no hiding! The Grim Reaper comes when the time is due, and there is nothing you can do.

The bottom of the coffin represents a dancing skeleton. It is a clear reference to the Totentanz, the Dance Macabre, a rather eerie hymn of life I have already talked about in a previous article. Here, I wanted to connect it with a direct message, “Bibamus, Cras Morituri”, a famous Latin motto that translates to “Let’s drink, for tomorrow we will die”. It is an invitation to enjoy life, to celebrate and be joyful because death will come to put an end to everything. Therefore, it is better to make good use of the time we have. I found it a very positive message, a little bit gruesome, but still, it is the reality of everything we know: everything changes constantly; nothing lasts forever. Therefore, it is better to get rid of any illusion of eternity.

On the lid of the coffin, I wanted to represent the same concept but on a smaller scale, so I depicted a laughing skull.

A variant of the same concept is depicted on the back of the cards too, wit the drawing a big cross with a skull in its centre and the motto: “Mors Certa, Hora Incerta”, death is certain, but the time of its coming is uncertain. Again, enjoy life while you have one, because when it is gone, it is gone!

The back of the card (the white border is less think in the final version)

Connecting the idea of Carpe Diem (seize the day) with a divination deck may seem strange at first, but if you think about it, connecting a tarot deck with the idea of the life cycle, death, and their mysteries seems very natural. Lenormand can be used, and has been used, in different ways to predict the future, clarify the present, and connect with the deceased. Cartomancy reflects the most touching aspects of our being human: our dreams and hopes, desires, and, of course, our fears. We are caught off guard, naked, without protection, and our soul is revealed in its vulnerability. Money, love, death—since the beginning of time, every human being has wanted to feel loved and to love (romantic, sensual, and carnal love), to feel safe on this planet (having enough food, a shelter, material things considered necessary for their living or happiness), a job (purpose and realization), and then everyone everywhere has had to cope with their own mortality. It is incredible to think how archaeologists, when digging up very ancient remains of the first humans, look for burial practices as a sign of civilization. The care of the deceased, their burials, the objects or plants placed there required collective effort, organization, and a certain amount of thinking, ritualization, and a belief system.

Love shook my heart,
Like the wind on the mountain
Troubling the oak trees.
—Sappho (630-570 BC)

Ōdī et amō. Quārē id faciam fortasse requīris.
Nesciō, sed fierī sentiō et excrucior.
I hate and I love. Why I do this, perhaps you ask.
I know not, but I feel it happening and I am tortured.
—Catullus

These were the words Catullus used to describe the excruciating feeling of love for Lesbia, his desire, and the hate for the intensity of the feeling and the unavoidable suffering that love may bring.

I often spoke, in this article and in previous ones, of the concept of seizing the moment. It is a very ancient concept, but the most beautiful expression of it I found in an incredibly touching ode by the Roman poet Horace (he lived during the time of Emperor Augustus).

Tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi
finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios
temptaris numeros. ut melius, quidquid erit, pati.
seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,
quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum. Sapias, vina liques et spatio brevi
spem longam reseces. dum loquimur, fugerit invida
aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.

Don’t ask (it’s forbidden to know)
what end the gods have given me or you, Leuconoe.
Don’t play with Babylonian numerology either.
How much better it is to endure whatever will be!
Whether Jupiter has allotted you many more winters or this one,
which even now wears out the Tyrrhenian sea on the opposing rocks, is the final one.
Be wise, be truthful, strain the wine, and scale back your long hopes to a short period.
While we speak, envious time will have already fled:
seize the day, trusting as little as possible in the next.

This ode is one of my favourite poems ever. I have translated it many times and read it so often that I know it by heart. All the progress, technology, and science we have are just like clothes that we change with the passing of time, but the naked truth is always the same. We are the same, and if we consider ourselves better than our ancestors, maybe we are harbouring a dangerous bias.

When talking about love and the fragility of human life, I always have in mind The Epic of Gilgamesh, the incredibly beautiful Sumerian poem from 2100 BC. The hero, King Gilgamesh, embarks on a dangerous quest to discover the secret of immortality and bring back to life his beloved soulmate, Enkidu. Here are a few quotes I find really touching:

“Gilgamesh, where are you hurrying to? You will never find that life for which you are looking. When the gods created man they allotted to him death, but life they retained in their own keeping. As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace; for this too is the lot of man.”

“How long does a building stand before it falls?
How long does a contract last? How long will brothers
share the inheritance before they quarrel?
How long does hatred, for that matter, last?
Time after time the river has risen and flooded.
The insect leaves the cocoon to live but a minute.
How long is the eye able to look at the sun?
From the very beginning nothing at all has lasted.”

Coming back to Horace, I find it very interesting that he mentioned Babylonian numerology; we have always looked, from the beginning of time, into divination to peer into the uncertainty of life, to glimpse the events to come and feel more prepared, reassured, or warned. From throwing bones, stones, shells, and runes, using tarot and other cards, observing the flight of birds or the flickering of a flame—occult practices have always been there, regardless of the tools we used.

I hope that when you use The Ghastly Lenormand, part of my passion, research, the poems, and art that inspired its creation will be with you. I feel connected with those who preceded us in this amazing and incredible journey that is life, and I feel like I am holding the torch with its raging fire, ready to pass it to you, who will use my cards. We are all connected. I hope you appreciate the different layers of culture and history that are hidden behind this simple little deck. I have really enjoyed opening my mind and revealing how this deck came to life, retracing the meandering path of my creative journey. I will keep sharing.

The last 6 days of the Kickstarter campaign are upon us. Therefore, if you appreciate my work, please share it and support it. Without your support, none of this would be possible!

Till the next time

Andrea