A little over one year ago, I gave up practicing and performing magic as part of my daily ritual. With a long list of reasons and seemingly-solid rationale, I felt confident in my decision and motivated to pursue other dreams.
Wonder, however, is rooted deep.
I was a toddler full of dreams and free from worry when my baby brothers died. It was from then that I remember seeing David Copperfield on TV, wishing I could be free from life's constraints — gravity — free to fly amongst clouds, with the birds... into heaven. I saw his straitjacket escapes as a physical manifestation of freeing oneself from life's bonds and restrictions (I lacked a sense of security and closeness, but that's a wonderfully complex topic for another time). Mastery over elements — space, time — what could be better? Even as a child, I could understand the significance of what I was seeing, and though flying free through the air remained my greatest desire, I could sense that magic was about much more (though I doubt I would've phrased it as such).
I was fortunate to have learned to perform effects on several occasions in my early youth, but I couldn't ignore the sensation that magic had been violently stripped away with the revelation of the secret — almost as if the method still wasn't the truth. I didn't think that I was being lied to (at that point), but I felt a deeper, inherent nature to illusion that I still wasn't aware of. I sought to rekindle that feeling of wonder that knowledge seemed to unravel.
Life's mystery isn't explained to six year olds in Houdini's magic shop at Disneyland.
I clearly and plainly see now that knowledge is not magic's nemesis. Wishful thinking — when I'd decided that I needed to know how to make something levitate or find a chosen card, I was hoping that I'd be given a "real" magic solution (as if somehow that'd be easier).
Illusion is about deception; the irony is that, despite all the mumbo-jumbo about "the magician's code," for the cost of two movie tickets, anyone can buy the "secret." The real magic exists all around us; it is exemplified in the countless hours of practice making something difficult appear simple — until it is simple. Our universe is incredibly sophisticated and precise; we still cannot fathom quantum mechanics and relativity co-existing simultaneously — yet magically, here we are in our Milky Way, likely one of many galaxies containing complex life.
"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."
– Arthur C. Clarke, third "law" of prediction
Technology and illusion aid and sustain one another. It is the magician's job to appear one-step beyond science, beyond rationale — unexplainable. How could I not be inspired, witnessing the unbelievable? Further, I'm driven to question what "real" is — something need not be tangible to be real.
I am again approaching the art of illusion with the same vigor and resilience necessary to pursue all other art forms and life — itself. I cannot overstate the immensity of current human knowledge; there's too much to learn, life is not long enough, I am not strong enough...
But I continue to do what I can to take a bit of surprise and amazement to others, sharing the dreams of youth — in hopes that the future will pay it forward.
Interesting that you're getting back into magic. I guess it's no surprise considering the text you sent yesterday! Are you planning on performing again, or is it more for personal enrichment?
Posted by: Daniel | 06/23/2010 at 04:50 PM
Duly noted sir.
-ND
Posted by: ND | 06/24/2010 at 12:53 AM
Daniel — I'm developing new magic for magicians, and dabbling in it for personal entertainment. It's fun... and I'm branching outward, trying new things.
Posted by: Bradtastic Brad Chin | 07/01/2010 at 08:13 PM