i write for inner peace.
I’ve given this some thought: you are my audience, and you are my magic- truly the chubby embodiment of the sword style “Two Heavens As One”. If I am to leave something behind, some meaningful marking like the Tibetian Monks scribbling words into the sand only to let them be blown away to the heavens, let that be wordy snapshots of life before you can speak.
Your eyes do a lot of talking. You always look so flabbergasted, so astonished- the most astonished spectator I’ve ever seen. I sometimes don’t know what else to say to you outside of mindless babble-singing about your cheek fat, so I've been watching instead in silent astonishment of my own while you show me the magic of your new moves: beluga barrel rolling, eating everything in sight, baring your toothless smile, squeeking at the taste of avocado. Every moment you make for us is the magic. You amaze strangers just by existing. I’d be a fool for not noticing the magic performed before me.
You’re already six months in, and the greatest deception would be to be misdirected by any other pursuit and turn back to see these rare years have vanished or happened too fast. I want to leave magic behind for you as you are giving your mom and I daily. So for now in this post-gig era, you are my audience - the only spectator that matters as you watch us more than you speak. I promise we’ll watch you back with as sharp a twofold gaze of perception and sight as Musashi would approve of, as you begin to show the world what you can do.
The Move Unseen
A blog for magic.