Twenty small worlds,
one quiet deck.

Twenty small worlds in paint marker — organic, cell-like forms crowded with dots, waves, spirals and tiny flowers. Read together they behave like a deck of feminine archetypes. Seven carry the titles Basia gave them herself; the rest are drawn from the feminine tarot, from the quiet knowing of the High Priestess to the daylight joy of the Sun.

Each piece is built the same way and never the same twice: a single wandering outline divides the paper into chambers, and every chamber is then filled — dots, ric-rac, stripes, spirals, the occasional bloom — until the whole surface hums. Nothing is planned to represent anything, and yet faces, tides, gardens and creatures keep surfacing on their own.

The titles come after the paintings, not before. Some Basia named herself — the Maiden and the Crone, Inanna returned whole, a Bodhisattva mid-awakening. Across the rest, the same feminine figures the tarot has always drawn began to appear — the intuition of the High Priestess, the abundance of the Empress, the gentle command of Strength. Together they make a deck of 20 cards, each a different way of being fully alive.