i write for inner peace.
To make a magician react is a great thing. Many magi consider the art of fooling the magician a worth-while pursuit, and are in constant search for ways to blow their fellow practitioners away.Being a magician means seeing many different kind of reactions.
As of late, I have been meditating the reactions of magicians as they enter the House of Flying Cards, the dojo I run. They turn into kids! They become happier than normal to be surrounded by knowledge, and others like them. Every one in the House is so diverse: to see such a collection of characters under one roof, all united under one love for the art of magic, is like watching a giant reaction unfold. The effect is the House. It is rewarding on a different level.I used to wonder what the purpose of the House of Flying Cards was. In the beginning, it was to make a stamp on the college social scene as being a sick crew of wonder workers who would blow everyone away in their tracks. I always thought it was a living RPG game of characters that go through events together and rip minds to pieces. It was like being in a gang or the Yakuza, wrecking havoc at any social gathering or event we ran through. That was so fun! As we get older, I see it growing deeper in its purpose. It is bringing people back to magic. It is refreshing their relationship with their art. It is making them happy. It is giving them something to belong to, and be excited about. It is teaching them more magic than they could learn in a thousand books or DVDs from Theory 11 or wherever can. It is introducing them to a more personalized version of the after-hour jam sessions at conventions. It is bringing people together, and making them happy. Magic is about that: spectators and magicians alike. I am happy this is unfolding the way it is.
I sit at the edge of this empty dojo, with a half-smile and my sword down for once, imagining all the amazing places these magi will go.
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
The Move Unseen
A blog for magic.