Two recent events have forced me to change the way I’m approaching my magic. One was that, as J.R. mentioned, we had the opportunity to teach magic to a passel of kids. Teaching kids is obviously a mixed bag of interest levels, skill sets, and attention spans, but it reminded me just how much weird old magic crap I really knew, both effects but also techniques, subtleties, and theories. This isn’t meant to toot my own horn, because what I realized is we all have that, but rarely have the opportunity to go back and take stock of it, or really examine and use it, because we understand them on such a subconscious level. Having to explain to a kid why it matters so much that he move his fingers juuuuuust so when he does a move forced me to reconsider why I do it that way, and to confront the accumulated knowledge I take for granted (as well as the inevitable bad habits that have crept in with it). The other event was that I had the opportunity to work with an outstanding magician, and seeing his work reminded me just how much of a difference there is between knowing an effect and knowing an effect. His methods were all clever, but what made his show exceptional was the level of polish, thought, and practice that had obviously gone into it. This triggered a much-needed, self-inflicted, admonishment as I realized just how much I had been half-assing.

Basically I realized I needed to slow the f*ck down and polish the ever-loving sh*t out of, well, everything. I had fallen into the classic magic trap of constantly trying to learn/create the next awesome effect. I wasn’t really applying that body of knowledge to taking the effects that I have from passable crowd pleasers to polished stunners. I think almost every magician falls into this trap at some point, and inevitably it will happen to me again, but for now I’m sticking with the mantra “do it one thousands times, each time better than the last.” This also doesn’t mean I’m going to stop creating, but hopefully that I can take this same, more careful, approach to my new material as well.

--Z.Y.

PS: I feel like this was a kind of stuffy post, so here’s a note I found in an old Ideas doc I just uncovered for us all to contemplate: “Damnit not again - multiple nails from multiple orifices.”

For a while there, while I was in University, I’d do a lot of writing. As it stands currently, I’m writing probably about 25% as much as I was back then. Which is kind of a bummer when we have a self-imposed weekly deadline for blog posts. I searched back in my archive for relevant material and found this entry from 2016. I still distinctly remember the moment this happened, it was on Broadway and 125th in West Harlem.

— J.R.

On Subtlety subtlety is life’s big changing agent [a/n: I have no clue what that means]. the only consistent thing that will remain true until you die, is subtlety. i once saw a man attempt to casually lift (steal) someone’s duffel bag. just, casually snatch it. put his hand on it with a loose grip. tugged a little while maintaining his walking speed. didn’t work, but the bag owner was confused after the seemingly would-be thief strolled away at a leisurely pace: did that man just try to steal my bag? he said. even though the thief-to-be wasn’t exactly hiding his actions, he wasn’t exactly making them conform to the standards of thievery. and that’s what made it subtle, to me. it was steeped in this strange netherworld where thieves sauntered into a store, perhaps with a monocle and a hoody, just faintly lifted up a tv, and kind of meandered to the exit, setting it down gently along the way. did that man just try to steal a tv? people stand around in confusion. the man walks slowly away and life goes on.

Speaking of Teaching Magic (last weeks post), friend of the site Omar Renfro was screwing around with a cheap ass effect and it absolutely F R I E D us. Just goes to show it doesn’t quite matter WHAT you’re doing, the effect is ALL that matters. Should I abandon all my sleight of hand and just do cheap (literally) magic tricks? Should you? We probably all should try it out. Take the #cheaptrickchallenge. I’m going to make it trend. Watch out. 

 — J.R.

Many of these thoughts can find their genesis in my previous post, being a steward for good magic.

Recently I was coaxed into the snafu of teaching a magic class for a couple weeks this summer. Or at least, that was the opinion of a previous magic teacher from the class. This teacher chose not to continue with the class this summer, as there were too many roadblocks and pitfalls along the way, mostly dealing with classroom management or dealing with children with disruptive behaviors. On the flip side, they also told me about how they ended up inspiring and guiding a number of students throughout their years teaching the class by having some really caring students. Seems like an easy equation to me.

Teaching a classic palm like.

If it were you, and you spent a significant time practicing/performing magic yourself, knowing the potential downfalls and upticks in teaching a class in magic to some young teens/kids, would you teach it?

Regardless of any sort of payment or monetary compensation, I find that sharing the way that I approach magic is just one of the ways to have direct impact upon the future of something that I really care about. If there was a way to formalize the class process (to establish regular sessions) with zero compensation to myself, I’d do it. Teaching is the purest way of directly democratizing magic culture that I can see. Honestly, I think that benefit is worth any sort of minor inconvenience to my day, or series of days throughout a single season. Check back in with me after a kid pees in their seat or cuts themselves on an expanding cane. JK, I won’t be teaching an expanding cane.

— J.R.