Early Ideas for A Tarot Deck

Over the years, several people have encouraged me to create my own tarot deck, but I always felt it was too big a task (too much to design, draw, and decide) not to mention unnecessary (there are already thousands of decks available). I’m no artist, and the idea of tackling seventy-eight cards felt impossible.

Recently, I started to reconsider the idea of creating a specifically Jewish tarot. I've experimented with a few designs using found photographs (not my own) and started to imagine how Jewish history, mysticism, and symbolism might reshape the traditional structure of the deck.

So far, I’ve created five Major Arcana cards and one Minor. Here are two of them:

The first is The Emperor, reimagined as Titus Flavius, the Roman emperor whom some see as the “inventor” of Christianity, a syncretistic theology designed to control the Jewish people. The second is The Hierophant, depicted as the Masculine Face of Shekhinah, inspired by my beloved Rabbi Berg, a figure of spiritual transmission and profound compassion.

Certain tarot writers raise more questions than answers, especially around sex and gender. One of my ongoing struggles with tarot thought is its use of the vague and puzzling language of “the Masculine” and “the Feminine.” What do those terms mean? Is there such a thing as a fixed, universal idea of maleness? I’ve never identified as particularly feminine—nor, for that matter, as a tomboy. If I were to generalize at all, it wouldn’t be toward some Platonic ideal of gender—it would be toward the messy, human truths: women have babies, men are slutty. But that's not archetypal. I’ve never viewed The Emperor and The Empress as male and female opposites. Energetically, The Emperor has always felt more aligned with The High Priestess as both are self-contained, inward, and silently commanding. The Empress seems to pair more naturally with The Hierophant, each of those figures offering forms of nourishment, guidance, and tradition.

The court cards complicate this, too. In my readings, Kings and Queens don’t always pair neatly within their suits. I often find deeper harmony across suits: the King of Cups with the Queen of Pentacles, or the Queen of Swords with the Knight of Wands. While I’ve never loved renamed court cards (they are disorienting and seem gimmicky), but the Kabbalistic Tetrad of Father, Mother, Son, and Daughter, might provide a familiar structure with a meaningful Jewish note. The divine family could emphasize spiritual lineage rather than hierarchy.

I don’t know where this project is going, but I’m letting myself play with the idea. Even if it doesn’t become a full deck, perhaps it will be worthwhile simply to reimagine a few cards through a Jewish lens.