House Keeper

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.

-antidote

as the 13th grandchild speaks...: The "magical" Proposal

as the 13th grandchild speaks...: The "magical" Proposal: this is way overdue but i already mentioned from my earlier post that i am now engaged! yepyep! at 24. though i don't really like im ...

Dear Great American Spectator

I have great compassion for you, whether or not you have love or hate. I promise to treat your event with meticulous care, like an artisan potter with a mound of clay. I will represent my art form properly and prolifically at your event, and will add a dimension of entertainment that will surpass any amount of decorations or hype you can build up. I promise you I won't hold back, and will give you my magic in it's fullest form: effect for effect, moment for moment. I understand you work for your money, and I do as well: I will work diligently to make sure my magic is something you and your guests will love. I love what I do, and I intend to project that unto you when you are done seeing what I have to show you. I have a show for you, my great American spectator. I work for my bread and feel blessed, while you enjoy the finer things in life such as a slice of discretionary income for you to spend on your event. Live magic performance is an awesome thing to treat your guests to: an art form for the ages, a feeling as primal as a breath of fresh air. You will be wowed, in one way or another. I will see to it. You are in my hands for the hour or two that you book me and my show. I may not like you, but I love what I do more than any disposition you have can sway that. See you at your next event.

-antidote

The Great American Spectator

The great American spectator has seen it all before, now, and after. They watch you, the magician, and their watches equally, as if continuously weighing if what you can show them is worth their time. Spectators like these are spoiled by attention- from Hollywood movies and their special effects, from ADD-style commercials, and the hundreds of apps on their smart phones. The great American spectator is smart- an intellectual from birth. They are trained to know it all, and receive points for it. The geniuses in the audience can never be impressed, God forbid fooled. The magician carries the threat of putting their precious brains to the test. The feeling of astonishment is too childish, because the great American spectator is a grown up. They are trained to think critically, financially, and quickly. The great American spectator feels nothing. They watch you with glazed eyes, as if dead to the magic you can show them; applauding politely, then turning away.

Bring it.

-antidote

Limbo

There's a delicate balance I wish to achieve with the magic I make. It's as fragile as a moment on a tightrope. On one side sit commercial mages of the gig circuit with their invisible decks and their snowstorms in China. On the other, effect junkies of the club scene waving their newest torn and restored cards and signed coins jangling in bottles. I don't want to stand on either of the two towers, but right here, in the middle of the two: nowhere magicians would feel like going.

I have a knack for falling out of any population I find myself in. I want to express myself out of it, like a lonely passenger on an express train out of Tokyo into the hermitage of the mountains. When I am alone with my magic, I fall in love with it. When I see the way other magicians can rape it, I feel bitter. Maybe, the way a lyricist would feel seeing Hip-hop music turn into drunken party chants on the radio, or a vocalist seeing an autotune junky get so much airtime.

As I regain consciousness from my reflection on the tightrope, I find there is no way to walk the thin line between magic as a creative art form and magic as a money-making form of entertainment- art being penny-less, and entertainment being the bread winner. The way is to be still. I am resolved in my position, not to sell out completely to either camp, because I disagree with both sides equally. I do not agree with the effect junkies who perform for no one and spend their days worshipping creators and chasing them around the convention circuit. I do not look up to the commercial magi who spend all their time performing the same played-out material that everyone else is doing, with all the same corny jokes that they all use for the sake of a reaction. And the few famous celebrity magicians like Criss Angel on the billboards across the street? I don't want to be them, because they are who I am not. I don't want to be like any celebrities for that matter, for fame is a fume that can be addicting and deadly.

If there was a balance I'd want to achieve, I'd have to fall several times to figure it out. The way I want my magic to go is up, and away. All art is a bridge to heaven, so I'll lay down on this invisible string and stare at the sky in between the two towers, levitating in my place.

-antidote

Sandy's Reaction

After the gig, I did Clear Mind Sky to a lady named Sandy (my mom's name) last night who was trying to let go of someone who was close to her. I don't do this effect for everyone, because it isn't for everyone. The people who are supposed to feel it will feel it, and share what they've felt with others. This was her reaction:

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I feel positive changes in the air. I can't believe what you did last night with that card and what I yelled inside my head. Have you ever felt there was a mission or a purpose something you had to do, but wasn't sure what it is? That is what it is like with this man Gary. He is coming over tonight. Funny, I can pick up on other people, but not myself. I know you are special, I can feel it...I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you. I do know this, you are on the right path, you have a special quality......your spirit is wonderful, however too many people tune their Spirits out. They will not listen to their hearts. You must find a way to reach them. I can help in some way. I am not sure what it is yet, but we will figure it out.

Don't change!

With Love,

Sandy

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For every one hundred rounds of applauses, WTFs, and dollars thrown into the hat, every now and then I stumble upon a gem of a reaction that tells me what I am doing is worth more than I know. Magic is a great language. I am honored to speak it and deliver what needs to be heard, seen, and felt.

-antidote

Jadu Jedi

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.

-antidote

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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 Magic Window of Cebu City, Philippines