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The Magic Cafe Forum Index » » Nothing up my sleeve... » » More Than Skill (0 Likes) Printer Friendly Version

funsway
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old things in new ways - new things in old ways
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As much as I like coin effects I like magic more ...

and often find performers more interested in a skill demonstration than creating any sense of magic.

The first is probably more entertaining today -- just a personal preference.

so, I crafted a little story that might touch on affect more than effect. Hang in there -- it is about coin magic.


Flutter By

I am fairly content with the decisions I’ve made. Leastwise, the benefits seem to outweigh the teeth-gnashing, and the laugh lines a bit deeper than the furrows plowed by sorrow. Today, I chose this mountain stream to amble alongside and which tree to now lean against. The music from the falls is loud enough to block out the mundane world yet does not command my full attention. My mind is adrift and my spirit anchored, or perhaps the other way around. This is when magic comes.

I did not choose the threat of rain or the way the scarce fingers of sunlight carom off the dampened stones. Seemingly random glimpses of colored leaf or complex branch are drawn from the shadows as a momentary flash of texture against a curtain of forest green. Images of monsters and angels are made of less than these, and some would call that magic.

A butterfly flits into my reverie and related thoughts tumble down. Its flight seems sporadic and disjointed. Yet, I know that forces are at play I scarcely understand as temperature, pheromones and instinct. Are these of magic because I cannot emulate such skills are be one with the secrets of nature? Its very presence sings in melodies I cannot hear with magical terms like chrysalis and metamorphic. Who am I to pretend at magic?

Scientists offer a “butterfly effect” in which the flapping of the wings of a single insect in Tokyo can influence the weather in San Francisco. We laugh! That is certainly a magic notion. Now extrapolate that into having every Chinese citizen stand on a stool and jump off to the synchronized beat of the butterfly wings. The resulting tidal wave reaching San Francisco would be several hundred feet high. Would that be magic too?

This particular butterfly hovers close and I extend my finger. It settles and allows that I examine its beauty close up. I have never embraced this shape and colorings before – reminding me of the enormity of my ignorance. I had thought it to be pale blue before but find that the wings are cream with vibrant bluish spots. Each spot is iridescent and rippling though various hues in response to light and wind that my mind fabricates into an impression of blue where no such color exists at all. I wave my hand and the butterfly seems to disappear. I do not know where to look, and without the enchantment of the blue have no focus or expectation. No matter! I stare at my now empty hand in sadness. Suddenly, the butterfly settles on my palm as if attracted by my need or command. It is so fragile and vulnerable. Can it be aware of the risk? I fear that if I even touch the wings it may never fly again. I have a brief compulsion to close my fist and take this experience home for a child to share. My fingers slowly close into a cage against my conscious will. No! My fingers fly open only to discover that my friend is gone! I frantically search my hands in case it crawled away. Then I extend my range of view and find it on my shoulder. “Come – return to my fingers.”

We play a game, this bluish sprite and I. I cup it within both hands in cherish and it mysteriously sneaks way. Then I find her in an unexpected place just waiting for me. Why is she sacrificing her safety and needs for my amusement? What story will she tell her children when I am gone? Finally, she spins in the air before my eyes and dashes off to join the golden spores above the ferns. Why did I come to this spot? Why did she? What did I miss on TV this afternoon?

I toss the silver coin into the air once more. Coin magic is such fun.
"the more one pretends at magic, the more awe and wonder will be found in real life." Arnold Furst



ShareBooks at www.eversway.com * questions at funsway@eversway.com
harris
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Harris Deutsch
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Like many a Zen story, I have read, I didn't understand your narrative
but it did make me feel good and smile.


H
Harris Deutsch aka dr laugh
drlaugh4u@gmail.com
music, magic and marvelous toys
http://magician.org/member/drlaugh4u
funsway
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old things in new ways - new things in old ways
8961 Posts

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Good on you, puppet master.

My moments with the butterfly is a memory of what many might call "real magic."

When I perform I attempt to make that experience just as meaningful and profound -- to have them experience real magic for moment, even if in fun.

"good" and "smile" are enough for a story.

I used to believe that each spectator held inside a memory of such an experience that I could awaken.

Today, many have never seen a butterfly except on a TV screen. Where is the magic in that? What is there to awaken?
"the more one pretends at magic, the more awe and wonder will be found in real life." Arnold Furst



ShareBooks at www.eversway.com * questions at funsway@eversway.com
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