
The Major Arcana
The Major Arcana are the heartbeat of the tarot — 22 archetypes that map the human journey from The Fool’s leap of faith to The World’s completion. In this series, I reimagined each figure through a queer and trans lens, bringing ancient symbolism into a modern, hyperreal visual language.

The Fool is the beginning, the archetype of new journeys, risk, and wonder. Traditionally shown at the edge of a cliff with a small dog at their side, they embody possibility and the leap into the unknown that begins every cycle of growth. In my reinterpretation, I centered The Fool in a queer experience of becoming. Queerness has always meant stepping into uncertainty, guided more by trust and intuition than by a guaranteed outcome, and The Fool captures that liminal space — hopeful, vulnerable, and brave. When I created this image in Runway ML, I leaned into symbolism that speaks to that journey: an expansive horizon shrouded in mist as metaphor for the unknown; sheer, flowing garments suggesting freedom and gender fluidity; a loyal dog as a stand-in for chosen family and community; and dawn light as a signal of fragility but also infinite potential. The result is more than a card — it’s a reflection of my own path, leaving behind certainty, embracing transformation, and finding magic in risk. Through AI-driven iteration and curation, I reimagined The Fool as a modern archetype that is both deeply personal and universally resonant: the courage to leap, knowing the future is unwritten.

The Magician is the archetype of power, skill, and transformation — the one who knows how to channel energy between realms and make the invisible tangible. In the traditional tarot, they stand with one hand pointed toward the heavens and the other toward the earth, surrounded by tools that symbolize mastery of all four elements. To me, The Magician has always embodied the act of self-invention, the ability to take raw possibility and shape it into something real. In my reinterpretation, I centered The Magician as a queer figure of agency and reinvention. Queer and trans lives are often about crafting the self anew, drawing from fragments of history, identity, and desire to build a body and a future that feels true. In Runway ML, I explored prompts that fused sharp tailoring with glittering accents, creating a figure that felt both commanding and fluid. I played with spheres of light as symbols of knowledge and possibility, glowing orbs that can be conjured and redirected at will. The posture is confident, but not rigid — a reminder that true power is adaptive, not fixed. For me, this card became a meditation on design and technology itself. Like The Magician, designers and makers work at the threshold of imagination and reality, turning ideas into form. Using AI to reinterpret this archetype felt like an extension of that magic — a collaboration with the machine to craft something that is both ancient and futuristic, deeply queer and profoundly human.

The High Priestess is the archetype of mystery, intuition, and hidden knowledge. Traditionally she sits between two pillars, a veil of pomegranates behind her, holding a scroll or book that symbolizes wisdom not easily given, but discovered through patience and inner sight. If The Magician represents conscious power, The High Priestess embodies the subconscious — the liminal, the unseen, the truths that lie beneath the surface. In my reinterpretation, I envisioned The High Priestess as a queer seer, someone who refuses binary categories and instead lives in the space between. For me, queerness has always meant cultivating an inner knowing in a world that often tries to obscure or erase it. In Runway ML, I experimented with imagery that blended softness with enigma: sheer fabrics layered like veils, shadows interlaced with light, and a gaze that looks both inward and outward at once. I wanted her presence to feel like both invitation and boundary — accessible, but only if you’re willing to trust your own intuition. Symbols of the moon, water, and reflective surfaces guided my prompts, evoking cycles, memory, and the fluidity of identity. I thought about how AI itself acts as a kind of mirror — reflecting, distorting, and amplifying what we bring to it. The High Priestess became, for me, a meditation on that relationship: the balance between what we reveal and what we conceal, between knowledge that can be codified and the wisdom that can only be felt. This card reminds us that power doesn’t always announce itself loudly; sometimes it waits in stillness, asking us to slow down and listen. Reimagining The High Priestess through generative AI allowed me to honor her role as guardian of mystery while queering the image of who gets to hold spiritual authority. She stands as a trans and queer figure of quiet resilience — a reminder that our deepest truths are often the ones we’ve been carrying all along.

The Empress is the archetype of abundance, sensuality, and creation. Traditionally she is pictured crowned and surrounded by fields, rivers, and lush growth — a figure of fertility and care who reminds us that beauty and nourishment are not luxuries but essential to thriving. Where The Magician embodies active power, The Empress holds the quieter, generative force of presence: the ability to cultivate, nurture, and bring life into being. In my reinterpretation, I envisioned The Empress through a trans and queer lens of joy as resistance. I wanted her to feel lush and unapologetically alive, grounded in her body and her world. In Runway ML, I crafted prompts that brought in flowing fabrics, botanical motifs, and delicate crowns of butterflies. The imagery of butterflies felt especially resonant — symbols of transformation, rebirth, and the fleeting yet undeniable beauty of becoming. I experimented with lighting that felt like golden hour, soft but radiant, bathing the figure in warmth that blurs the line between human and mythic. For me, The Empress is about more than nature or motherhood; she is about reclaiming the right to take up space in softness, beauty, and care. She invites us to see pleasure and flourishing not as indulgence, but as power. Using AI to shape her form allowed me to weave together tradition and futurism — a reminder that even in the digital age, we hunger for archetypes that affirm our wholeness. This Empress stands as a queer emblem of abundance: a living symbol of resilience, sensuality, and the power of joy to transform the world.

The Emperor is the archetype of structure, stability, and authority. Traditionally he sits on a stone throne adorned with rams’ heads, a symbol of willpower and leadership. Where The Empress embodies nurturing and abundance, The Emperor brings order and foundation — the rules and frameworks that support growth and provide protection. At his best, he represents security and vision; at his worst, rigidity and control. In my reinterpretation, I wanted to queer The Emperor away from the rigid patriarchal archetype and instead explore authority as something redefined through care, chosen family, and community strength. Power, in this lens, is not about domination but about the responsibility to hold space for others. In Runway ML, I worked with prompts that balanced solidity and fluidity: structured garments with sharp lines paired with softer textures, lighting that conveyed gravitas without heaviness. I wanted the figure to feel commanding but approachable, powerful yet human. I leaned into symbolism of architecture and landscape — stone pillars, expansive mountains — not as emblems of permanence alone, but as reminders that even the strongest structures are shaped by time and nature. For me, The Emperor became a meditation on how we create systems that can endure while leaving room for change. Queer and trans experience often requires building new frameworks where old ones have failed us, and this reinterpretation reframes The Emperor as that kind of builder: someone who crafts stability through love and imagination, not control. This card, reimagined through AI, becomes less about patriarchal authority and more about a collective kind of power. He is still a figure of structure, but now the structure is inclusive, resilient, and alive — a reminder that design, like leadership, is at its strongest when it makes others feel safe enough to grow.

The Hierophant is the archetype of tradition, ritual, and collective belief. In classic decks, they appear as a religious figure seated between two pillars, hands raised in blessing, with two acolytes kneeling at their feet. This card is often read as the keeper of orthodoxy — the one who safeguards rituals, teachings, and structures passed down across generations. At its best, The Hierophant represents shared wisdom and sacred connection; at its worst, dogma and exclusion. In my reinterpretation, I wanted to queer The Hierophant — to shift the figure from gatekeeper to guide, from rigid authority to radical inclusivity. For so many queer and trans people, institutional tradition has been a source of pain or erasure. Yet rituals, stories, and community practices remain essential to our survival and joy. So I asked: what would it mean for The Hierophant to embody a new kind of spiritual authority, one rooted in chosen family and lived truth rather than hierarchy and exclusion? In Runway ML, I worked with prompts that fused elements of the sacred and the subversive: spiked crowns that suggested both regality and rebellion, layered robes that blurred gendered expectations, and lighting that evoked a sense of awe without tying the figure to a single religion. I imagined them not presiding over followers, but holding space — a queer oracle who sanctifies difference rather than conformity. For me, this card became about reclaiming spiritual authority as something queer people can embody and redefine. The Hierophant here is not a figure who tells you what to believe, but one who reminds you that your story, your rituals, and your body are already sacred. Through generative AI, I was able to bend tradition toward liberation, crafting an archetype that honors the past while opening a door to futures where everyone belongs.

The Lovers is the archetype of union, choice, and connection. In traditional decks, the card shows a couple standing beneath an angel, often framed as romantic or divine partnership. But the deeper meaning goes beyond romance — it’s about alignment, values, and the choices that shape who we are in relation to others. It asks: what do we bind ourselves to, and how do those bonds define our lives? In my reinterpretation, I wanted The Lovers to move past heteronormative depictions and instead celebrate queer love, fluidity, and the many forms intimacy can take. Love, in queer and trans experience, is rarely about conformity; it’s about creation — building chosen families, rewriting the scripts of devotion, and finding holiness in connection that defies expectation. In Runway ML, I crafted prompts that explored multiplicity: pairs and triads, bodies in tender touch, mirrored figures whose closeness suggested both romance and reflection. The imagery leaned into softness — warm light, intertwined fabrics, luminous skin tones — to highlight vulnerability as a form of strength. For me, The Lovers isn’t about “the perfect couple” but about the radical act of choosing. It’s about claiming desire, intimacy, and belonging in a world that often denies us all three. By using AI, I was able to bend archetypal symbols into something expansive: not just Adam and Eve beneath an angel, but a living spectrum of queer connection. This card, reimagined, becomes less about rigid duality and more about the endless ways we say yes — to ourselves, to each other, and to the futures we’re brave enough to build together.

The Chariot is the archetype of willpower, direction, and triumph through discipline. Traditionally, the card shows a figure riding in a chariot pulled by two opposing creatures — often sphinxes or horses — symbolizing the tension of control and the challenge of steering opposing forces toward a single goal. It is about momentum, victory, and the mastery of one’s path. In my reinterpretation, I wanted The Chariot to reflect the queer experience of moving forward with both tension and determination. For so many of us, progress is not a straight line — it is resistance against forces pulling us in opposite directions: conformity and authenticity, expectation and self-expression, fear and courage. In Runway ML, I explored prompts that brought out this duality: vehicles suspended between shadow and light, a driver whose body conveyed both poise and grit, and armor that looked less like protection from violence and more like an expression of radiant selfhood. Symbols of movement were central — swirling dust, flowing fabric, blurred landscapes — suggesting not just travel, but unstoppable momentum. The figure does not dominate the opposing forces; instead, they harmonize with them, guiding difference into forward motion. For me, this was the queering of The Chariot: not victory through control, but triumph through integration. This card, reframed through AI, became a meditation on queer perseverance. It celebrates the courage to keep moving even when the path is not clear, to ride forward with dignity despite opposition, to claim victory not as conquest but as survival. The Chariot is the reminder that movement itself is power — and that choosing our own direction is the most radical triumph of all.

Strength is the archetype of courage, resilience, and the quiet power of compassion. Traditionally, it shows a figure taming a lion — not through brute force, but through calm presence and inner steadiness. This card reminds us that real strength is not domination, but integration: the ability to hold wildness, fear, and vulnerability with tenderness. In my reinterpretation, I wanted to embody Strength as a queer metaphor for self-acceptance. For trans and queer people, courage often looks like gentleness with ourselves in a world that demands hardness. In Runway ML, I explored imagery of bodies and beasts intertwined, a figure whose touch soothes rather than restrains. Flowing garments replaced armor, symbolizing that softness itself can be protective. Lighting was key — golden, warm, almost tactile — to emphasize strength as radiance rather than rigidity. Strength, queered, becomes an invitation to see our fierceness in our tenderness, to understand survival as an act of care. Using AI allowed me to evolve this archetype into a vision of resilience that feels expansive: strength as softness, courage as vulnerability, and power as love made visible.

The Hermit is the archetype of introspection, wisdom, and retreat. Traditionally, they are depicted as an elder holding a lantern, standing alone on a mountain peak. The card speaks to solitude not as isolation, but as sacred pause — a reminder that sometimes clarity comes only when we step away from the noise. For my reinterpretation, I thought about the queer and trans relationship to solitude. Sometimes chosen, sometimes imposed, solitude has often been where we discover who we are. I wanted The Hermit to feel less like a distant sage and more like a figure of radical self-reflection. In Runway ML, I worked with imagery of lanterns and mirrors, light cutting through fog, and figures cloaked in textures that evoked both protection and vulnerability. The Hermit’s gaze is not downcast but contemplative, a balance between inward focus and outward guidance. This card became, for me, about the value of quiet in queer survival — the pause that allows us to imagine different futures. AI helped me visualize solitude not as emptiness, but as fertile ground: a space where listening to ourselves becomes an act of resistance and renewal.

The Wheel of Fortune is the archetype of cycles, fate, and change. Traditionally, it shows a great wheel surrounded by mythic creatures, turning endlessly to symbolize the ups and downs of life. This card is about the inevitability of change and the invitation to see ourselves as part of something larger than our current moment. In reimagining it, I thought about the queer experience of cycles: transition, reinvention, collapse, rebirth. Life is rarely linear; it spirals, circles, and turns. In Runway ML, I leaned into circular motifs — glowing wheels, planetary orbits, mirrors revolving like constellations. Figures were positioned at different points of the wheel, representing the many places we find ourselves: rising, falling, clinging, or letting go. The queering of The Wheel is an embrace of impermanence. It reminds us that joy, grief, identity, and transformation all come in waves, and that our power lies in riding those turns with awareness. AI allowed me to merge cosmic and human symbolism, producing an image that feels both mythic and immediate — a living wheel of possibility.

Justice is the archetype of truth, fairness, and accountability. Traditionally, the card shows a robed figure seated between two pillars, holding scales in one hand and a sword in the other. It represents clarity of perception, the weighing of actions, and the consequences that flow from them. Justice is not blind here — it is piercing, discerning, and exacting. In reinterpreting Justice, I wanted to move beyond the traditional imagery of institutional judgment and center a queer notion of balance: one that values lived truth over imposed law. For queer and trans people, justice has rarely been granted from the outside; it has been something we’ve demanded, fought for, and embodied ourselves. In Runway ML, I explored prompts that emphasized reflection and multiplicity — scales that looked like mirrored orbs, garments that blended light and shadow, and a figure whose posture was both resolute and open. Their gaze is direct, not in condemnation, but in recognition. This Justice is less about punishment and more about restoration. It asks us to face what is hidden, to honor the complexity of truth, and to act in alignment with our deepest values. Through AI, I was able to create a figure who is both mythic and modern — a queer arbiter whose authority comes not from hierarchy but from authenticity. Justice here becomes not a courtroom verdict, but a mirror: an invitation to stand in integrity, even when it costs us everything.

The Hanged One (traditionally The Hanged Man) is the archetype of surrender, perspective, and suspension. Depicted as a figure hanging upside down, often by one foot, the card is about letting go, seeing the world differently, and the transformative wisdom that comes from pause and discomfort. In my reinterpretation, I wanted to highlight The Hanged One as a profoundly queer archetype. Hanging upside down is itself a queering — a refusal of the “normal” orientation, a radical inversion of perspective. For trans and queer people, life often demands this shift: the willingness to exist outside linear narratives, to embrace liminality, to find revelation in what others see as disruption. In Runway ML, I worked with imagery of suspension — figures draped in fabric that flowed downward like waterfalls, bodies framed by luminous halos, expressions that conveyed serenity amidst tension. The background leaned into ethereal blues and silvers, creating a dreamlike suspension that felt neither trapped nor free, but in potent in-betweenness. The Hanged One, queered, becomes an archetype of necessary surrender. It reminds us that transformation often requires discomfort, that wisdom comes when we release control and let ourselves be remade. This card, visualized through AI, became a meditation on queerness as inversion — not a loss of orientation, but the discovery of new ones.

Rebirth is the archetype of endings, transformation, and renewal. Traditionally, the card shows a skeletal figure riding a pale horse, trampling over kings and peasants alike, with the sun rising in the distance. It is not about literal death, but about the cycles of closure and rebirth that are inevitable in life. For me, Death has always resonated deeply with the trans experience. Transition itself is a death — of names, roles, expectations, and past selves — but it is also the doorway to new life. In reimagining this card, I wanted to honor both the grief and the liberation that endings bring. In Runway ML, I used prompts that blended skeletal imagery with lush regrowth: bone-white structures interwoven with vines, a figure cloaked in fabric that looked like both shroud and chrysalis, and light breaking on the horizon. This Death is not grim but beautiful. It acknowledges what must be left behind, yet it points insistently toward transformation. The figure’s presence is solemn, but not frightening; their role is not to destroy, but to guide. For queer and trans people, death is part of our narrative — but so is rebirth. Through AI, I was able to render Death as a queer midwife of change, reminding us that every ending carries within it the seed of something new.

Temperance is the archetype of balance, integration, and harmony. Traditionally, it shows an angelic figure pouring liquid between two vessels, one foot on land and the other in water, embodying the blending of opposites into something new. This card represents moderation, patience, and the alchemy of synthesis. In my reinterpretation, I leaned into Temperance as an explicitly queer form of balance — not the dull equilibrium of compromise, but the radiant possibility of integration. Queerness itself is temperance: the weaving together of contradictions, the fusion of what the world insists must stay separate, the creation of a third path. In Runway ML, I explored prompts that played with fluid imagery — water suspended mid-pour, light refracting like prisms, and garments that seemed woven from mist and flame simultaneously. The figure’s body is not defined by binaries but by flow, their presence serene yet alive with tension. For me, Temperance is about the artistry of becoming whole — not erasing differences, but finding harmony within them. AI allowed me to give form to this archetype as a trans alchemist, someone who embodies contradiction and shows that beauty emerges not in spite of it, but because of it. This Temperance stands as a queer symbol of integration: the reminder that balance is not stasis, but ongoing creation.

The Tower is the archetype of upheaval, collapse, and revelation. Traditionally, it depicts a tall tower struck by lightning, with figures falling from its heights — a shocking image of destruction and chaos. The card signifies sudden change, the tearing down of false structures, and the painful clarity that often comes with collapse. For me, The Tower resonates deeply with queer and trans narratives. Our lives often involve tearing down structures — whether familial expectations, societal norms, or internalized beliefs — that were never built to hold us. Collapse is frightening, but it is also the moment truth rushes in. In Runway ML, I worked with prompts that depicted crumbling architecture illuminated by stormlight, figures falling but not broken, flames transforming into beams of light. The imagery is violent and beautiful at once: a revelation made visible. The Tower, reimagined, is not a punishment but an emancipation. It is the card that says: the ground you stood on was never safe, but what comes after the fall will be more authentic. Through AI, I captured it as a queer apocalypse — the collapse of what is false, making space for what is true. It is a reminder that destruction and creation are twins, and that sometimes the only way forward is through the lightning strike.

The Star is the archetype of hope, renewal, and divine inspiration. Traditionally, it shows a nude figure pouring water into a pool and onto the land, beneath a vast sky illuminated by a single large star and several smaller ones. It arrives after the chaos of The Tower, offering healing, clarity, and faith in what lies ahead. In my reinterpretation, I saw The Star as a trans and queer archetype of visibility and restoration. After collapse, The Star is the reminder that we can rebuild — not in haste, but in beauty. In Runway ML, I used prompts that emphasized water and light: reflections shimmering across the body, starlight cascading like fabric, and an atmosphere that felt expansive yet tender. The figure is luminous but not untouchable, embodying hope as something grounded in the everyday. The queering of The Star is about survival as radiance. It is about how queer and trans people continue to shine even after devastation, offering not just endurance but brilliance. For me, this card became a meditation on hope as a practice: not blind optimism, but the act of tending to light even in the dark. AI helped me visualize The Star as a queer beacon — not just a symbol of what comes after destruction, but proof that beauty is what allows us to keep moving forward.

The Moon is the archetype of illusion, intuition, and the subconscious. Traditionally, it depicts a moon shining over a path that winds between two towers, with animals howling and a crawfish crawling from the water. It is a card of uncertainty and shadow, of dreams and the things that live just beyond reason. In reimagining The Moon, I leaned into its queer resonance: the invitation to embrace ambiguity, fluidity, and mystery. For queer and trans lives, the moon has always been a guide — cyclical, reflective, shifting in form but constant in presence. In Runway ML, I explored prompts that evoked surreal landscapes bathed in silver light, figures half-veiled in mist, and reflections that seemed both truthful and deceptive. The figure of The Moon was imagined as liminal — neither fully seen nor fully hidden, embodying the beauty of ambiguity. The Moon, queered, becomes permission to dwell in uncertainty. It reminds us that not everything must be named or resolved to be real. In a culture that demands clarity and binaries, The Moon offers sanctuary in mystery. Using AI allowed me to render this archetype with layers of depth and texture, creating a card that invites viewers to trust their instincts and honor the truths that come to us in the language of dreams.

The Sun is the archetype of joy, clarity, and vitality. Traditionally, it shows a radiant sun shining down on a child riding a white horse, surrounded by sunflowers. It is a card of warmth, abundance, and the freedom that comes when everything is illuminated. In my reinterpretation, I envisioned The Sun as a queer anthem to joy. Queer and trans existence is often framed through struggle, but The Sun insists that joy is not just possible — it is necessary, radical, and holy. In Runway ML, I worked with prompts that highlighted golden light, lush fields of sunflowers, and figures bathed in radiance. Instead of innocence as naivety, I wanted innocence as reclamation: the right to delight in ourselves without apology. The queering of The Sun is about joy as resistance. It is about shining fully, not in spite of who we are, but because of it. Through AI, I created a vision of this archetype that feels celebratory and inclusive — not one child alone, but many bodies radiant together, a collective basking in the light. This card became, for me, a reminder that joy is not frivolous; it is fuel. The Sun is queer brilliance uncontained, a daily reminder that we deserve to flourish in the warmth of our own becoming.

Judgment is the archetype of awakening, rebirth, and reckoning. Traditionally, it shows an angel sounding a trumpet as figures rise from their graves, arms lifted toward the heavens. It is not about punishment but about revelation — the moment of seeing ourselves clearly, the call to step into a new phase of life. In my reinterpretation, I saw Judgment as a profoundly queer and trans moment: the act of hearing the call of your own truth and rising to meet it, even when the world tells you to stay buried. Judgment is the archetype of transition, of claiming identity, of saying yes to the voice within that will no longer be silenced. In Runway ML, I explored imagery of radiant light breaking through darkness, figures emerging from shadows, and bodies poised in gestures of surrender and triumph. The angelic figure became less a distant herald and more a mirror of community — the call coming not from above, but from within and from those who stand beside us. For me, Judgment is about reckoning with the past and choosing to step forward transformed. It is not about shame but about liberation. Using AI, I crafted this card as a vision of queer rebirth — figures rising, unapologetic, into the fullness of themselves. This Judgment is not finality, but beginning: the call to live wholly and visibly in the light of our own truth.

The World is the archetype of completion, integration, and fulfillment. Traditionally, it depicts a figure dancing within a wreath, surrounded by the four symbols of the elements or evangelists. It marks the end of The Fool’s Journey: the arrival at wholeness after a long cycle of trials and transformation. In my reinterpretation, I wanted The World to reflect queer wholeness — not a perfect ending, but a joyful integration of all the fragments that make us who we are. Queer life is rarely linear, and wholeness is never about “completion” in the traditional sense. It is about weaving together contradictions, scars, joys, and dreams into a self that is expansive enough to contain them all. In Runway ML, I envisioned a figure in dance, adorned with fabrics that shimmered like galaxies, surrounded by symbols of community and chosen family. The wreath became less a crown of victory and more a portal: a doorway to the next cycle, the next story. For me, The World is the archetype of queer fulfillment — not assimilation, but the radiant display of multiplicity. It is the celebration of having survived, transformed, and created beauty along the way. Through AI, I was able to give form to The World as both ending and beginning: a dance that honors the journey while opening toward what comes next.