Is it a trick? A puzzle?

Many people see it that way; the challenge of figuring it out and catching the Magician. Some even want to see me fail. Mostly I believe people want to see me succeed because they want the experience. 

But what is that experience? 

Movies and theater are magical; novels, paintings, music, all magical. Although they have the ability to transport us to another place you can also see the craft in them. You know your favorite actor did not really die in the movie. She is crafting an illusion. You know that Superman doesn’t really fly. It’s CGI. It’s crafted to feel like these things happened. 

That crafting helps you get lost in the journey and in that moment you’re on the ride and it doesn’t really matter that someone might be stealing your car at that moment.

For magic to work, the “secret” must not only be kept hidden -- it must not even be suspected. Because the moment you even suspect a sneaky move…POP! The bubble bursts and there’s no magical experience. No mystery. You are thrown out of the experience and you’ll never reach your destination.

This is a challenge I accept.

I remember doing magic when I was young. We would visit family for Sunday dinners or a holiday and I always brought something along to perform. I did that a lot.

Eventually I started doing children’s parties and while that was enjoyable and there was a lot to learn, it really wasn’t where my heart was. I was always interested in doing close-up magic.

I was fascinated with sleight-of-hand and I knew my audience was going to be in the corporate world and events with adult audiences. So I started to think more about that.

What I kept bumping into was how to make the leap from doing children’s parties to the corporate market. But the question was bigger than “how do I do more corporate events?” The question was really “who do I need to be to get those gigs?” 

That’s where I lived for a time and it was okay. But now I find the question has changed again. 

Now it’s about BEING A MAGICIAN. “Who do I need to be so that an experience of wonder just seems to happen around me?”

And that’s much bigger than doing tricks. 

Inevitably a guest will exclaim, “My kid would love this!”

When I ask how old their child is, the answer is usually six or seven. 

Never mind that I’m appearing at a corporate event or social function in a sharp suit and engaging with challenging close-up magic or reading minds from the stage. It still happens.

Don’t mistake this for complaining. I’ve been passionate about magic since I was 10 years old and I’m grateful to have it as my profession for over 25 years.

I’m just wonder why.

My kids live in a world of wonder and joy. Everything they experience is magical. But eventually society will tell them it’s time to put childlike things away and grow up. Sadly, magic will be added to that box and buried in the backyard. 

“So remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see and hold on to that childlike sense of wonder about what makes the universe exist.”

— Stephen Hawking

We grown-ups need magic now more than ever. That’s why we go to the theater, visit the museum, read a novel, or listen to music. These things pull us out of our daily grind. That’s the power of magic; it puts us face-to-face with a mystery. 

If only for a few moments and even if it’s a simple, well-executed card trick.

This has been tucked away in my notes since September 2018. Dusted it off, made some edits and is now posted here for our edification.

To set the scene, I was performing at my residency last night for about eight people. We were gathered on couches and ottomans around a low, glass table. Throughout the evening, guests drift in and out of the performances, but this one lasted about 30 minutes.

Close-up magic is quite intimate and casual and, if done “right,” the audience and performer really get to know each other.

This particular audience was a gathering of eight friends. I was sitting on the couch next to Mario, who was from El Salvador, and his wife who was from Germany. They lived in Hanover but visit San Francisco every 4 year to see family.

“The Magician is an initiate of secret and hidden knowledge of all kinds.
And this is the important point. All knowledge that takes special training to acquire is the province of the Magician energy.”

— King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine by Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette

As often happens after a performance in this particular venue, guests will often ask questions:

“How did you get into magic?”

“Do you have a teacher?”

“Did you go to school for it?”

One woman commented that “you must have been born with it?”

Mario said he could never do anything like what he experienced.

When I asked what he did for a living he replied that he was a chef but “it's nothing like what you do.”

"Yes, it is, Mario. It's exactly like what I do."

One of the first and most memorable gigs I had came soon after we moved to the west coast in 2012.

The venue was a “maker space” in the Mission District of San Francisco. It was my first time in that part of town and had no idea what to expect. As I parked the car and walked around the corner to find the graffiti filled front door, I thought “well, this is another fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

The place was filled with tables, shelves, and workspaces of electronic gear. It looked like the laboratory of a mad scientist except it felt like there was some method to it all.

At the time, I was temping to support my family and rebuild things here in The New Frontier, using skills I developed while studying and working as an actor in New York City. But I was also taking any magic gig I could get my hands on.

This particular evening was a short performance before dessert for a group of about 20 gathered to celebrate a friend who was changing jobs. For years the guest-of-honor had worked as an editor for gay porn films and now he was starting a new gig at a company that made straight porn.

And man, did they roast him. They even had a custom cake made that looked like…er, on second thought.

As it turned out, it was a fun group to entertain and we had a blast. Yeah, I’ve been wrong about these things before.

Anyway, as I stood in the back of the house waiting for an introduction, my eyes drifted around the room taking in the audience, the set up of the performance area, the decor, etc. Eventually I noticed something scrawled on the wall.

If you weren’t standing right next to it you would have missed it. I snapped a picture and it was my cell phone wallpaper for over a year.

Recently, I was having a conversation with a friend. He’s a semi-pro with a solid “day job” who does magic on the side and regularly produces his own one-man show, which has quite a following.

We were on the phone some time in May talking about what we were going to work on while shut down and sheltered-in-place. He had a plan based on the fact that, as things began to open up, people would be interested in hosting smaller, more intimate events and he asked what I thought about his idea.

“Does doing that or anything else you’ve done in magic make you happy?” I asked.

I don’t think it’s about “the marketing plan” at all. That’s a necessary evil to get your work seen. The question that needs to be answered is “does it bring you joy?”

Everything else lines up around that.

Actual size. Almost.

At times, the “problems” in my business or personal life seem so immense. There would be no way to surmount them or even know what steps to take first and move forward.

It’s just me, you see.

I still building the habit of consistently using a to do list to stay organized, balance family/home life and business, and still find ways to stay creative in magic and express oneself. I struggle with it. Something about the chaos of (for lack of a better word) “the artist’s” mind?

It seems logical that when you’re passionate about something you should devour everything you can about it. That might mean reading a lot of magic books, periodicals, and visiting websites. Keeping abreast of the latest new magic product and following people on social media.

But there’s something to be said of leaving the space and looking beyond your tiny world.

Back in NYC, one of my senpai (seniors) once told me that I’d never get good at aikido because I had too many other interests. “You’re into magic, you’re working as an actor, and practicing aikido? You’ll never progress quickly. You have to focus.”

At that precise moment, Sensei joined the conversation and commented, “too much aikido makes a dull person.”

The dojo is where you might “train” yourself but it’s outside of that space where you learn. It’s in the real world where we test the principles and apply them to life. You do your best to see how it all works then come back to the lab, do more research, make course corrections, adjust, and get better at what you do. Then you go and test again.

I also found it laughable that senpai didn’t even consider that any of the other arts or self-imposed courses of study I was interested in didn’t inform and expand on any of the others.

How many artists — painters, musicians, actors, writers, film makers, <fill-in-the-blank> — are solely practicing their art and have nothing else, I wonder?

Right now the competition are all doing the same thing and striving to be first.

What if you were to be the only?

There’s a ton on information out there right now about what you “should be doing” during this time.

Take care of your self. Work on that project. Don’t waste a good pandemic. Did you know there are dozens of new Facebook groups in the magic community where everyone has the answer and we already experts on virtual magic?

Easy. Easy.

Opening up and listening, I still hear the same message: slow down.

Yes, being forced to isolated — with my wife and kids, who are all safe and well — can be useful if done right. But check in with yourself and absorb it all for a moment. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?

We each have our own set of unique circumstances and to try and live up to any expectations right now, whether your own or society’s, is not only impossible but also really stupid.

One thing that had to change were my 2020 goals. I’ve given up on everything I wanted to accomplish by the end of the year. There are now only daily and weekly goals.

Yesterday, I called Sensei and he relayed his impressions. He does that.

The message is clear and unwavering. Work on “inner/finer.” Take care of yourself and everything around your falls into place. Change yourself and the situation changes. It’s universal.

There’s nothing new here. That message appears in my notes countless time since I met him in 1996. It’s a basic.

You can’t control or change anything out there. Even in the martial arts, you can’t really control an attacker. You can only control and change yourself. Do that and things around you naturally line up and fall into place.

There is only one project I’ve formally taken on.

I always resisted making content for public consumption. So, I made a decision to put out one piece of magic every week to about 200 people on my mailing list. After the first couple of episodes, it dwindled down to every two weeks and now it’s about every 2-3 weeks.

There was a moment when I got upset about backsliding on the timing. I’d look at what my peers were doing and came down hard on myself for being lazy and unprofessional.

Easy. Easy.

They have nothing to do with you. Allow yourself to change and the world around you changes.

When I lived in New York, I had the opportunity to spend time with some of the best magicians and variety artists on the planet. I was privileged to introduce many of them, watch their acts repeatedly and spend time with them backstage. I took in a lot of information during that time. It doesn’t mean I “learned” anything at that point. I was just taking in the information — the learning comes later.

There was a moment at Monday Night Magic which I clearly remember. I was hosting the show and the theater had just got their liquor license, so they could serve alcohol in the lobby before the show and patrons could bring their drinks into the theater.

We were about halfway through the first half of the show and I was speaking the audience when suddenly, out of the darkness, a man said something to me. The house was full that night and with the bright lights on stage you can only see the first couple of rows. I couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from but my head turned in his direction, near the back of the house just off center.

I didn’t say anything at that point, I just stopped mid sentence and let him finish what he had to say. When he was done, I continued. A moment later, it happened again. It naturally stopped me again for a moment. This time I could feel the audience get a bit tense and my mind started to churn:

“Are they expecting me to say something back?”

“How do I respond here?”

“Why the hell are they serving alcohol at the show?”

I took a breath, settled into my body and continued. There was one more comment from him and what sounded like another voice as well. But this time they were both a bit softer. It didn’t seem to be directed towards the stage. Then, nothing. It stopped and life continued.

It wasn’t a conscious decision for on my part to respond this way. I never thought in advance “if there’s a heckler tonight I’m going to…” This was a spontaneous response to the situation and it felt completely natural for me.

It had been something I struggled with for some time because I would see other performers tear the heads off of hecklers at the show. I considered — and still do consider — some of these performers to be my mentors and I was there to learn from them so what they were doing was right. Right?

Well, maybe.

Maybe it was right for them based on their experience and worldview but it didn’t feel right for me.

With 20+ years of aikido training, I don’t know why the answer didn’t come sooner. But like I said earlier, while you’re in the moment of the lesson you’re simply taking in the information. The embodiment of the learning doesn’t come until later.

As I see it, there are really only two options available to deal with a heckler: either you let them be part of your show or you don’t.

How would I handle this situation? What’s my response?

____

Control your emotions. Control your response.

One of the things that dawned on me while practicing aikido is that I can’t control anyone. It’s impossible. No matter how well you apply a technique, you can’t control anyone. The only thing you have control over is yourself. Period.

What you can do is set up the situation so they have no other choice but to realize the mistake they made and give them the opportunity to back off.

It’s simple, really. But not easy.

If I were to engage with the heckler during my show, it would have been an invitation to him to be part of my show. I’m literally opening the door.

Would you invite a stranger into your home to run amok? Of course not. You don’t know this person or their intentions.

So, I don’t invite the heckler in. They may knock on the door with their first heckle. But I’m not answering. They may even obnoxiously ring my doorbell countless times. I’m not answering.

This is my home and I’m in control. You are not welcome here.

Doing Nothing is Doing Something

They just started serving alcohol so my assumption is the heckler had something to drink. He decides to interject something or interrupt my speech with something he thinks might be funny or obnoxious or whatever. The reality is, I don’t know what he was thinking and it doesn’t matter.

He calls out a couple of times. Why? Because he wants a reaction from me. The reaction he wants and expects is that I fight back. I prop up his attack by pushing back with a “heckler stopper.” If that’s the response from me, now there is conflict.

Instead, I do nothing. I simply let him say what he has to say — allowing him to express himself — and move on. I remain centered and in control of myself. This makes it clear to him and everyone else watching that I cannot be upset and that I am in control.

Eventually, the person he was with whispers something in his ear and he’s quiet of the rest of the show. That person could have been his spouse or partner. What did that person say? I don’t know and I don’t care. Perhaps it was that things won’t be so pleasant back home if you continue down this path. Regardless, he received the message.

____

In the ensuing chaos that is intermission at Monday Night Magic, I was chatting with a couple of friends who were also on the show that night. Rocco, one of my favorite performers at the show, came over.

Motioning in my direction, he said the the producer, “Michael, that guy right there is a class act.”