“Hi, I’m Kenlyn Stewart. I’ve turned my life’s artwork into a deck of cards, because what better way to tell an artist’s story than with a little mystery, risk, and revelation? I’ve spent years painting enjoying nature, animals, people and playing poker. I’ve discovered they all run on the same fuel: curiosity, intuition, guts, imagination, and commitment. This deck isn’t just art, it’s a gamble on connection, a love letter to legacy, and a reminder that in art, poker, and life, the real jackpot is knowing who you are, and having the courage to play your hand.”

Kenlyn Stewart wearing a straw hat, sunglasses, and a smile, standing in front of a colorful flower garden on a stone pathway in a lush green setting.
A person holding a box of Cards of Wonderment tarot cards with an illustrated woman with curly hair, jewelry, and a mystical background.

This deck had its first beginnings back in 1958, when a precocious 4-year-old me ditched the crayons and picked up oil paints. Fresh off a camping trip and already channeling Mother Nature I discovered I had a flair for the dramatic, dark cloudy skies, rivers, camp fires and old burned pine trees. I liked telling my story with paint. Like this card:

A young girl with short hair, wearing a sleeveless dress, is sitting on the floor and smiling at the camera while drawing on a chalkboard with chalk.
A playing card featuring an abstract painting of trees, animals, and a landscape with a sunset. The card has the words "Treasure," "Mystifying," and "Explore" on it.
Black and white photo of a young boy holding a paintbrush and palette, standing in front of a framed landscape painting surrounded by other paintings and art supplies in an art studio.
A playing card with a dinosaur design, labeled '5 of Clubs.' The card has text 'Problem,' 'Reskless,' 'Pretend,' and 'Tempted,' and features a colorful illustration of a stegosaurus and a smaller plant-eating dinosaur.

Back when I was living with my parents in sunny Santa Monica, I moonlighted as a pint-sized art dealer—helping my mom hustle her paintings on the streets of L.A. to bankroll my dad’s UCLA dreams. Who needs lemonade stands when you’re funding higher education with fine art? 

I kept dreaming of the day I’d grow up and live off my art, no day job, just paint, passion, and the occasional dramatic flourish. So when my mom let me hang my little paintings next to her actual masterpieces? Game over. I was obsessed. I figured if I wanted to be a real artist someday, I’d better start acting like one immediately. My dad, ever the theatrical coach, would pose as a curious customer, schooling me in the fine art of public charm and creative salesmanship.

A young girl and a man, possibly her father, both smiling and looking at a chalkboard or drawing board set up on an easel in a room, engaged in an activity together.
A man dressed as a cowboy stands behind a gaming table with colored chips, surrounded by people wearing cowboy hats in an indoor setting.
A collage featuring a black and white photo of a man and woman, two playing cards of Queen of Hearts and Queen of Clubs, and colorful heart decorations in the background. Text reads 'JOKER', 'BE FEARLESS', and 'ALWAYS BE GRATEFUL SUSAN AND JAMES'.

Somewhere around the ripe old age of 7, my dad introduced me to the fine art of poker, because what goes better with finger paint than a full house? He’d hit Vegas now and then or deal cards at charity gigs, and when he started bringing home shiny silver dollars, I knew two things: one, I had to learn poker, and two, this was clearly the missing puzzle piece in my budding art empire. That’s when poker and painting teamed up to become my unlikely but fabulous life coaches.

Fast forward a bit, I scored a scholarship to the Santa Barbara Art Institute and later graduated from UCSB with paint in my veins and big plans on the horizon. In 1976, I graduated, met Greg (now my husband and forever co-conspirator), and off we went to Tennessee so he could chase his MFA dreams. Naturally, I pulled a page from my mom’s playbook and supported his academic adventures by diving headfirst into the art show circuit. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I took a Batik class and fell madly in love with hot wax, unruly dyes, and the glorious chaos of fabric storytelling. Who knew mess could be so meaningful? 1982 was the year the art for the Queen of Spades was finished and I was featured on Craft’s Woman. 

Black and white cover of Craftswoman magazine featuring a woman in a plaid shirt with art pieces of trees and landscapes in the background.
A playing card depicting a woman with curly hair, wearing a dark dress and jewelry, with text that reads "Expectations" at the top and words "Abundance," "Love," "Spirituality" on the sides.
A woman with curly dark hair in a light-colored shirt, standing in an art or craft studio with paint supplies and tools on the table and shelves behind her
An artistic, abstract digital illustration designed as a playing card with a mix of digital patterns, colors, and textures. It features the symbols of an ace of spades and elements labeled 'mischievous,' 'uncertainty,' 'clarity,' and 'courage'.

Never one to settle for the ordinary, I cranked up the creative heat. I started dry-mounting my batik fabrics onto museum board, then slicing them into intricate little puzzle pieces and piecing them back together like a mosaic storyteller. Voilà: I invented my technique, which I dubbed Inlaid Batik (because why not name your artistic breakthrough?). It became my way of saying the things words couldn’t touch, like dreams, emotions, and life’s weird little winks. I used colors, patterns, and personal symbols together in an abstract, nonobjective celebration. See all non-objective images on the cards.

Why cards with bears and fish, you ask? Well, when you fall head-over-heels for a sculpture thousands of miles away and you’re flat broke but high on obsession? You buy it anyway, ship it home like a lunatic in love, and surprise! It starts popping up in your artwork like an uninvited houseguest you secretly adore. As for the fish? Blame my dad. He passed down the fishing bug along with the poker face, and before I knew it, fish were swimming through my art like they owned the place. Apparently, my muse wears waders.

A woman with long, curly hair smiling outdoors, holding a large carved wooden mask in front of her chest. The mask resembles a large feline face with detailed features.
Woman standing barefoot on a dock, holding a large fish with both hands, near a body of water outdoors.
A playing card with a collage of images of fish, including a large fish at the top, a swordfish in the middle, and a smaller fish at the bottom. The card features words such as "Suspenseful," "Hooked," "Patience," and "Unexpected." The card is labeled as the 3 of hearts.
A playing card with a fish illustration, labeled as 'Suspicious.' The card's corner shows it as the 10 of Hearts, with the suits and numbers upside down. The fish has intricate lines and patterns, with one in earthy tones and the other in vibrant, rainbow colors.
An older man with white hair and beard hugging a woman with curly brown hair, both smiling, inside a warmly decorated room.
An artistic collage resembling a playing card with the number 8 hearts, featuring a colorful parrot, a vintage wooden toy car with a sign that says ‘RIDE 10¢’, orange slices, doodles of a hand with “Eccentric” and “Libraring” written around, and Poker chips with the words “Half” and “Magical,” all set against a neutral beige background.

Fast forward to 2017—cue the dramatic music—I had a wild idea: why not round up the greatest hits from my lifetime of art, toss in my love of poker, a dash of wilderness wanderlust, and my obsession with visual storytelling, and turn it all into a deck of custom art cards? What started as a simple gathering of favorite pieces quickly morphed into an epic 8-year treasure hunt, digging through decades of creativity, redesigning, reframing, and occasionally questioning my own sanity. The result? A one-of-a-kind legacy project, stitching together the images (and life lessons) that made me who I am. And just so you know… the stories are far from over. Stick around, this site has plenty more magic in the cards and stories to tell from my log cabin life, with husband Greg, a Parrot named Bean and a couple of mischievous cats.