Painting Fortunes on Card
I’m standing in my room burning mugwort. On my desk, candles flicker golden light on the walls. A warm mug of milk and honey sits as a thank-you to the deities watching. Once the mugwort burns down to its roots, the evil spirits have been warded away. My offering is accepted, and my room is consecrated.
Seven months ago, an Irish witch approached me at an art market and asked me to create a 78-tarot card deck made uniquely for her.
At first, I hesitated. Despite my Irish heritage, I knew little about Irish magic or tarot. But she assured me that didn’t matter — as long I was willing to learn.
So, I buried myself in history books about Irish folklore, tarot, and Gaelic traditions. I learned of gods and goddesses, druids and faeries, emblems and rituals.
Creating a personalised tarot deck means weaving the reader’s own energy into it. I immersed myself in this woman’s world — her life, her intentions — and came to understand how tarot evolved and how Irish magic intertwines with it.
Tarot roots trace back to 14th century Italy, where nobles coveted the elaborately hand-painted playing cards. These original decks were adapted from earlier versions from China, Persia and Egypt, and featured four suits: swords, wands/sticks, goblets/cups, and coins/pentacles.
By the 1500s, 21 Trionfi or ‘trump’ cards were added, depicting subjects like the Fool, the Emperor, and other medieval characters.
It was only in the 18th century when French writer Antoine de Gebelin introduced the concept of using Tarot cards as divination tools, suggesting the trump cards had connections to mythical sources. Soon after, the first tarot deck to be used exclusively for fortune telling was released in 1789.
By the late 1800s, tarot crossed into Britain and Ireland through the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn — an occult society which studied ancient magic. One member, poet A.E. Waite, created the Rider-Waite deck in 1910, introducing the Celtic Cross spread. This was a ten-card spread he claimed was long used in private divination circles in Ireland, England and Scotland. It’s still popular today for gaining a detailed understanding of past, present and future events.
Since then, Irish-inspired tarot imagery has flourished, fuelled by a modern fascination with Celtic mysticism and spirituality. The decks have expanded to include druids, faeries, and Celtic gods.
It’s been seven months since I was commissioned to paint the personalised tarot deck, and I’m still learning how each card and their symbols represent specific events, emotions and teachings.
The tarot card you can see here is the An Ghrian/The Sun tarot. On this I’ve portrayed the Celtic solar goddess Áine (Awn-ya) — radiating optimisim, success and vitality. The goddess Áine embodies the rising sun following the darkest of nights. Her name means ‘bright’, reflecting her dual roles as sun and moon goddess. Sunflowers bloom at her feet as a symbol of long life and lasting joy.
Painting Áine on this tarot meant learning all her history. And like most Irish folklore, it was long, rich and complex. In her earliest role as sun goddess, Áine could shape-shift into a red mare no one could outrun. Beyond her powers of love and fertility, she later became a protector of livestock and crops.
Even today, rituals honouring her live on. At midsummer, followers walk through fields with flaming torches, asking for a bountiful harvest. They burn flowers and straw to seek her blessings for freedom from illness and evil. I too now burn mugwort in my room, asking Áine to ward off evil spirits that could imbue themselves in my tarots.
Earthy greens, golds, deep blues and knotwork borders envelope the tarot card, reflecting traditional Celtic art. Each card is translated into its Irish name — a language nearly forgotten. Once finished, the deck will be blessed by the witch with a ritual to the mythical Irish race, Tuatha Dé Danann.
I still have more than half the deck to paint. Some cards glow with warmth, like An Ghrian, while others carry shadow, like na mBonn (Of Coins/Of Pentacles). Yet with each finished card, I see more clearly: Meaning and magic are never fixed on paper or bound to myth, they only exist once we breathe them into being.