Courtney Alexander
Ain’t Je-Mammy (Queen Mother/Empress), 2017
Acrylic, pastel, spray paint, gold leaf paint, and magazine clippings on bristol paper, 14 in x 17 in (35.56 cm x 43.18 cm)
Image courtesy Courtney Alexander
DUST II ONYX
SOLEIL LEVÈ BON MAMBO ELIZABETH RUTH
Courtney Alexander
Ain’t Je-Mammy (Queen Mother/Empress), 2017
Acrylic, pastel, spray paint, gold leaf paint, and magazine clippings on bristol paper, 14 in x 17 in (35.56 cm x 43.18 cm)
Image courtesy Courtney Alexander
A few years ago, I was made aware of the Dust II Onyx Tarot deck by one of my mentors. I found the art remarkable. I wanted the deck immediately. What I did not know at the time is the dearth of divination decks in existence where Black people are able to physically and spiritually connect at an ancestral level with the images when drawing insight from the tool. I find this especially troubling considering the images from the ever popular Rider-Waite-Smith deck were created by Pamela Colman Smith, a Black woman. Sadly, it still comes as news to practitioners.
When I received my first edition of Dust II Onyx, I could sense the beauty of this work just by the energy emitting from the box in my hands. What I did not anticipate, however, was literal goosebumps as I moved through the cards in the deck. I only have this reaction with occult objects that share a direct spiritual connection with me. Black occultists often have to reach really far when it comes to selecting (or being selected by) items we use for divination. For the novice practitioner, we often learn from divination tools not made with us in mind, taking us back to the days of having to read children’s books full of people who don’t look like or represent us. As is the case with many children of the diaspora, we attempt to create foundations in places and spaces foreign to us. It is only through the power of Spirit that we are able to grow and flourish our spiritual gifts in a world where we exist with tremendous influence yet are treated as if we’re invisible.
We live in a world where our belief systems and traditions are often demonized and/or appropriated by non-Black occultists, and we continue to see ourselves fetishized and/or erased by them and their creations. We are often asked why we have to have this and that be “Black.” Many never stop to think about what it is like to look at something and try to find identity in places where it does not exist. When you have privilege, you don’t know you have it, and you cannot conceptualize the results and implications of not having it. So many have been looking at these skewed representations of themselves for so long that it is normalized and often results in cognitive dissonance they may never recover from. But this deck is not for them. If they purchase it and connect with it, that is wonderful. This deck—revolutionary in its inception, scope, message, and vision—is unapologetically for us, by us. It is the community of Black people reaching to Spirit, moving from Abrahamic-based religions and mind-sets, growing with Spirit, and many of us coming home to African diasporic (traditional) religions.
Sometimes an artist will accidentally create works that evoke emotions and trigger memories they did not envision at the time. Truthfully, that will happen with this deck, but more important is the deliberate, calculated, and purposeful messages that Courtney Alexander embedded in every image, every name, and every meaning behind each of the cards. The names of the elements (suits) are the ultimate Black “nod” to who we are and how we communicate with each other in a coded language that continues to amaze, be despised, and is often copied by the dominant culture. Coins, Staffs, Gourds, and Blades resonate with me (and I assume many Black folks) at a molecular level. The names touch our souls.
When I see the Suit of Blades representing the Suit of Swords, I am swept back to childhood and the social mores of young brothers and sisters carrying a blade at all times. I see the ritual blades used in our magical and spiritual work. The word blades resonates much differently than the word swords at an ancestral level. “L’il” as the name given to Pages resonates through my entire life and makes me remember friends and relatives alike who will always be known as “L’il,” even when they are not little anymore. The use of “Mama,” “Papa,” and “Young” in the cards gives me the feeling of sitting down in the kitchen of my ancestral home, cards spread and ready to connect. I have never felt that way with any deck, whether it depicted people of color or not.
As I sit here and try to put into words, and do justice to, the monumental importance of this deck, I have to implore you to consider the depths of the spiritual importance of Dust II Onyx. The story of the development of Dust II Onyx is a testimony that is more beautiful than any testimony I’ve heard in any church. Courtney did not create Dust II Onyx simply to put Black images on cards. Too often, in people’s rush to commercialize spirituality, they lose track of the “spirit” part. This deck, in its inception, is also Spirit-led. This deck and its accompanying book are a stellar example of both experienced divination and occult knowledge, and living and working as directed to by Spirit. The title in itself is inviting you to move from the dust on the ground to the solid, amazing, and spirit-filled gems “that encourage self-mastery.” It is my wish that you read this book, study these cards, and perform readings with them in ancestor-filled divination.
Ayibobo!
Courtney Alexander
Blackamoor (The Moor/Hierophant), 2017
Acrylic, pastel, spray paint, gold leaf paint, and magazine clippings on bristol paper, 14 in x 17 in (35.56 cm x 43.18 cm)
Image courtesy Courtney Alexander
RUTH