The King of Cups

         One day in the late nineties, I was walking from the subway to my friend’s Park Slope apartment, when I found a playing card on the sidewalk. I picked it up, as was my habit; I had an idea of making some kind of art project out of all the single cards I collected. This one was not a regular card, but featured a picture of a king with a goblet floating above his hand. I was excited: I had never found a tarot card before, and while I’m not especially superstitious, I do love symbols and metaphors. Maybe this card was meant to guide me, in some way. 

        Upon doing some research, I was confused. There was a card called the King of Cups, but the figure on its face was traditionally seated on a throne and wore a fish amulet, with another fish leaping from the water behind him. I figured this was just a different interpretation, though I was also puzzled by the number 12 on the card, which I couldn’t find any reference to. But the king is usually seen as being creative, compassionate, and wise, with a balanced mind and heart. He seemed like a good protector, and for years I used him as a bookmark before eventually taping him to the wall beside my bed. 

        I took it down the other day as I prepared for my move. I thought I’d use the Google search feature to see if I could discover anything about this particular card. It came right up when I took a picture of it. It was indeed a King of Cups…only not from a tarot deck. It was a common playing card designed in Spain in the late 1800s and used all over the world in casinos. I was disappointed to learn that my talisman was nothing more than a scrap of mass-produced rubbish. But I still remember that instant of discovery, I can picture that street corner, still remember what it felt like to bend down to pick up an object that I believed, for a moment, might change my life.