A year or two ago I stopped following the world of magic. I had personalized enough material to be able to perform impromptu and less-than-impromptu routines whenever the moment arose, and so very little new products interested me.
I am still young, and so my future is not set in stone, but it seems I have decided that magic better suits me as a hobby than a career; I am able to fully satisfy my passion for returning people's minds to a beautiful state of childhood wonder without needing to rely on performance art as a source of income (I consider myself lucky). In light of other intellectual passions - government reform, civil rights, educating people and raising awareness - magic took a backseat during the most recent stage of my life, but one particular moment transpired on 1 Jan 2011 which I would like to share. I will try to make a long story short, but it may not be easy, as I can honestly say that the events that occurred throughout my new year celebration were among the best times I have ever experienced.
I had met a friend on the internet who shared similar values, goals, and priorities with myself, and he invited me to make the drive to his area on new years eve to experience his friends. I agreed, and I had a very enjoyable time exchanging ideas with similarly open-minded, self-aware, and compassionate people. We took the metro to the DC, and at the metro station we met two girls from Germany. I cannot over-state how sweet these people were; they stayed with us until the morning had arrived completely. At one point in the night, I had impressed a man we had just met with some hip-hop verses I had been sharing with anyone who would listen throughout the night. He took us all to a VIP lounge at a family-owned hookah bar. Even considering my past with magic, and the fact that I had tried to show some tricks earlier, I didn't immediately realize how absolutely conductive this venue was to creating that moment. The lighting, the sights, the sounds...the sense of intimacy: all perfect.
After having an emotionally sensitive, profoundly satisfying conversation regarding the loss of my mother with one of the girls, I decided to invite her to experience a trick. I suppose that is one of the many social environments that I revert to - performance. It is comfortable for me, especially after deeply introspective dive into true sorrow. I asked her if she could grab her purse, foreshadowing the moment in "Chicago Opener" when a single red card is placed somewhere out of my reach. Due to my mind-state at the time I was able to aesthetically experience my performance as I was performing it. This resulted in me being to react to subtle changes in her demeanor and to pace myself in a fluid manner which was still meticulously intentional. I don't mean to brag, but I had created an avalanche of suspense. The moment was intense; I cannot even recall another time when I felt so connected to another person through the art of illusion.
She looked at the card in her purse and her heart sank. Her jaw dropped and she screamed. She leaped out of her chair, reverted to her native tongue, and begin breathlessly and frantically trying to convey to her friend what had happened. I cannot describe with words the geyser of feelings which bubbled up through my soul, but I have a faint suspicion that someone reading this will honestly understand.
This burning love for illusion has been reignited within me, and I'm not sure where I will go from here...