It does happen that twice in a day you hear yourself delivering the same phrase: ‘you’re the second best.’ This is not because reading cards according to set rules of random meanings and combinations is my spiel. Far from it. I don’t rehash the same keywords because I have nothing better to do or because I don’t know any better or can’t do any better. I do and I can.
As I’ve been thoroughly at work on an art project that involves porcelain and scrolls made from vintage Danish linen and damask table cloths, all made by myself from scratch – an idea I even got an art grant for – I found myself running into all sorts of frustrations concerning kiln people who promise to follow a firing schedule for your porcelain and then deliver something else that is not the thing.
As it happens, just because I want to fire some porcelain, I didn’t think that I needed to invest in a whole arsenal called ‘a pottery studio,’ but since I abhor being dependant on unreliable people, I’m contemplating the very thing.
So today, after a whole month of research, I asked the cards, in spite of knowing already where my heart was: which kiln, a Rhode or a Kittec? To keep it simple, I pulled two cards, one representing each, respectively.
The Rhode company got the Sun, while the Kittec company got the Popess.
I found myself saying to Kittec: ‘you’re second best. Rhode wins.’ As it also happens, although the Rhode kiln is top of the line and ranks as the best in the world, Kittec may be equally good, lacking only in marketing reputation. As with all things having ‘a name’, I suspect that if the Rhode thing is more expensive it’s because it’s considered the Lamborghini of hot deals, while Kittec is just a Ferrari.
I’m still deliberating as to whether I should go for it and be free of third parties handling my porcelain or whether I should just put up with the regular incompetence, and finish the project as best as I can under the circumstance. My vacillation has to do with my lack of intention to become a potter. The world is full of brilliant potters already, and I don’t see myself adding much to the art. I just have an idea in my head that combines making vessels with scrolls, calligraphy, and vintage linen, and I’m in the process of assessing what I need for it. Whatever my decision, though, even the cards suggested, ‘second best is not what you need.’ What you need is a hot Moloch, not an instruction manual. Period.
You’re second best
But let me get to the other instance, when I also said to someone today, ‘you’re second best,’ upon seeing the Devil, the World, and Temperance. ‘How can you tell from these cards,’ the other sporting the incredulous look wanted to know, and I went, ‘aha, I’ll show you…’
Since my deliberation consisted of a real flip, I’ll fling it here as part of my series of readings with a twist that I’ve started for my fan club, the people who pay for my stories – thank you people.