i write for inner peace.
The purpose of what we do is to spread a feeling that know other art form can articulate. It is a smile that cracks deeper than delight. If it's a laugh, it's a wonderful mix of being terrified and awe-struck, like standing before your first love, and willing to submit every bit of yourself to the gravity of that moment. It's a way of opening your eyes to the expanse of what you don't know, and absorbing it for the first time, like the light from suns you've never seen. The Hindus called it Jadu; like jade, or something precious. It's a string of curse words spoken spontaneously- the WTFs, NFWs, and OMFGs- as if running to God himself and asking Him to shake off the spell the magician has cast over you. It's frightening and funny, like discovering a spider on your back. The reactions of magic crack open and crumble even the finest of minds. It's distinct, instantaneous, and pushes buttons no other art form can touch. It caves you in like a sinkhole into your psyche. When done right, magic moves its audience, as fast as a free fall. There is no trickery or secrets around the reactions we spread. Magicians everywhere are united in that purpose, like the Knights Templar, or Jedi of Jadu. We are few and far between, so seek us out: we are bringers of a feeling found no where else.
Also, random props for this inspiration goes out to our magi crew counterpart in the Philippines, a troupe of doper than dope magicians called the Magic Window. They are essentially spreading what we spread, the raw, organic way we do it, on the other side of the planet. For more info on the Philippines' Magic Window crew, check out http://www.facebook.com/themagicwindowcebu
Egos as aside as possible, I take pride in saying that my man Remy Connor aka Sam has slayed me once again with his performing superiority. Right after suffering from a major car accident, I visited him to see that he was okay. He was cheerful and positive as ever, and I was glad to see him there in his apartment playing videogames and laughing, instead of in a hospital bed with a neck brace on. He would have still been laughing and being cheerful even if he was there in a hospital bed, and find a way to say "awesome" despite the non-awesome things a car crash can bring.
Here is a video I randomly ran into of him performing at a gig we did on Las Olas. This was actually the last time I performed alongside him since his car accident...
Remy Killing It
And so I the antidote am reminded of my former rival, the smoke-breathing serpent mage who manages to stand head and shoulders above the rest of the House in performing prowess. Sam is bar-none one of the best performers I know, and I delightfully envy the dynamics, grace, and potency of the way he delivers his magic to the minds of his spectators. He is alive, and well. He is not dead. He may be working less in magic these days, and sitting in an apartment playing videogames despite his physical injuries. He is still saying "awesome" even when life is telling him your car is totaled. I am so glad this isn't a eulogy. I feel like it is quite the opposite. My rival lives. He is still the insanely powerful magician I remembered him as when Mark and I met him at a magic convention many years ago. This lady who took the video could have posted Mark's set, or my set. She posted Sam's set. Sam slayed us. I am honored.-antidote
So here I sit, at the edge of another show's end. My feet dangle and kick lazily at the end of the stage, with no one left in the room to watch. The spotlight flickers above me, and debris of popcorn and half-drunk drink cups lightly litter the aisles. I love this part of the show!
I love the feeling of doing a captive show, and at the end, celebrating with myself for completing another mission. The feeling right after a show ends is kind of like that Friday feeling for you office mongers, or that first day of summer break. I chills at the edge of my shows, and pour myself a glass of wine to unwind after the dust settles.
I think I made a tremendous step forward in the goal of self-expression through the art of magic at this last event. I just need my own venue. It's so hard to say what you want to say, and paint what you want to paint if your on a moving train or in a noisy bar. The venues available to most working magicians today are less than suitable canvases for expressing ones-self, and spreading the energy you wish to spread. I'm grateful for every night I'm able to call a venue my own and turn it into my canvas for an hour. It's like, a studio with nice lighting and quiet space and an entire blank wall to work on if you're a graffiti artist, as opposed to infiltrating a subway tunnel at night and throwing down a bomb really quick before you have to dip. That's how strolling and even busking is: get in, throw down your bomb, and be out. It's kind of limited in what you can do.
It takes less energy to do those short, 5-15 min burst shows, but it's always nice coming back to a full show for a captive audience for a solid hour, who pay to come and see you. I'm just meditating at the edge of the stage these things. I'm excited to bring my show to another venue soon. I hope you can see it. It's pretty different from what you're used to seeing magicians do.
The Move Unseen
A blog for magic.