I am often asked how I got started. Here it is, in brief.
It was the summer of 1992, and I was working full time, writing scripts and performing for a themed resort in South Carolina. I shared a tiny office with Ted Loring. Ted is an incredible friend to me, still.
One of the characters we created was a street magician … someone to play to the resort guests and entice them to come see the formal shows. I visited a local magic shop and learned a few very rudimentary routines.
The job vanished quite suddenly and I took that character to the actual streets of Charlotte … and, 24 years later, here I am.
Cleaning out some drawers, I found my old employee pass. This kid had no clue to the future: two beautiful daughters to feed, both parents and Grandma Hilda still living, and a road just beginning.
If I could tell him anything right now, I wouldn’t. The road unfolds just as it should and I wouldn’t change even the painful parts. It crafted me, and it is still saving hearts.
Your road is taking you somewhere, if you keep your feet faithfully to it. Strengthen your ability, craft it to your passion and keep the faith.
You’re really going somewhere, and the view along the way is breathtaking.
Knuckle down or Quitsies?
My law and your ducks … mostly prits and cats-eyes; my aim is true and your hold is beauty.
No stomps, you are free and the circ is not your limit. Bombies are cool, you’re strongest on your stage, and I love your style on a leaning topper.
Colored magic glass – the first valuable gems I owned. (and I scooped most of ‘em!)
it is okay for me to be upset when You leave
it is okay for me to want You to stay
it is okay for me to have a hard time
it is okay for me to be affected by my mental illness
it is okay for me to make mistakes
it is not okay for me to throw a fit
it is not okay for me to get angry at You
it is not okay for me to let myself dwell on my emotions
it is not okay for me to pick a fight because of a temporary feeling
it is not okay to for me to hold onto hurt feelings
i can get through these emotions
i can be patient with myself
i can apologize when i make mistakes
i can explain my actions without placing blame or making excuses
i can let go
This is a thing depression does:
I had a really pleasant, productive day. The sun was out and I could take time to appreciate all the beauty around me. Then, late in the evening, without any warning, I got hit. Crippled by sadness and anger. I got it under control, and I’m much better … but not well by a long shot. (Whiskey would be a really bad idea right now, but it’s calling me.)
The meds help. The exercise helps. The watching what I eat and drinking gallons of water helps. I can see I time when I may overcome it (not completely, it doesn’t work like that, but enough to where the episodes are mild and short and don’t hurt me or the people I love.) I am improving: I haven’t had an ‘episode’ in over a month now. And that makes me happy.
But I lost my wife. I lost two of my children. Dozens of friends. And, man … didn’t it happen fast?
I’m staring at an international magazine that has my picture on the cover. It’s still in the plastic bag it arrived in. I can’t bring myself to open it, for fear the pages will just read “FRAUD” all over them. (Silliness)
I should delete this post, or make it private and not let anyone read it. Part of me, though … Part of me hopes it has a message that someone needs. Despite my pain, I’m still functioning, working, and creating. Life really is beautiful as well as hard. I’m going to get out from under this cloud, live, and keep moving down my road.
I didn’t lose me.
I need a hot summer day, and a lake surrounded by Green life.
Lying on my back, my tummy a baking island. The gentle pull of the cool water on my hair, like a loving friend. I am a buoy. Letting myself go, letting myself just Be.
My ears beneath the surface hear the buzz of an unseen boat. They may be skiing, heading for a fishing spot, or just enjoying the freedom of speed on the water.
I am worshiping the sun and the water for this moment, and I have found peace.
Filed under Musings, poetry
I believe that my work is important, vital even, to some people.
My fellow entertainers and I bring relief to the machine. Levity to buoy the spirit and return it to flying … or soaring. We inspire, we enlighten, we save lives at our very best. We change them, too.
One of the most difficult things for me to handle is praise. I don’t know how to accept it graciously. I feel gratitude and thankfulness for those that take time to tell me their thoughts on the show and how it moved them, I just don’t know how to respond properly.
A friend recently wrote the following on Facebook about meeting me and getting to know me offstage. (We recently worked together in a play about Jack the Ripper called ‘Whitechapel’)
“I knew of you long before i actually met you… but Whitechapel sealed the deal.
Upon first seeing you, I thought: “He really sold his soul to the devil for magic.” And that’s amazing. And pure. And true. And omg that was amazing.
What do i like most about you? You aren’t afraid to bare your absolute soul to the world. You are an artist in the truest form. There was a day, i think it was the second to last or maybe the last day of Whitechapel, i parked next to you over off of 36th by Rat’s Nest, i got out of my car to wave hi to you in your van. You were listening to music, I’m not sure what song, but you were crying. Sobbing. I knew things were difficult at the time…with life and things, but to see you expose the emotions so fully, so unabashed, so freely brought me peace. Knowing that it’s ok to bare our troubles in such a way, to music even. I will never forget the day you made me love being human.”
I will never forget the day you made me love being human.
On the one hand, how do I express how grateful and happy I am that I was able to give her such a gift? On the other … words and letters like this let me know that I’m on the right road, doing the right thing, and using my gifts well.
Don’t be afraid to live fully. And love who you are.
I had an audience of about 40 people. A little above intoxicated, for the most part. Friends, loved ones, strangers.
The ‘Liar!’ portion of the show went beautifully .. new additions of ‘Rugby’ (a multiple card selection) and ring-linking were quite well received.
As I (kind of) expected, this audience had deeper-seeded issues. Some of the language in the photos below is pretty harsh.
For those new to this: I spoke to them about my own issues of body image and being in the middle of a crowd of people. I asked them to think of their own issues and one word or phrase that causes them shame or sorrow. A label unfairly placed on them that mutes their music or shames their spirit. I asked them to give their pain to me, for a little while. Write down their word or phrase on my skin and leave it behind for as long as they could. I took off my clothes and and let the crowd surround me, writing on my skin. I didn’t run or cower, though my mind was screaming at me to do so.
They wrote, they purged, they wept.
Two souls left me messages: one wrote, “You are love” and the other wrote “You are beautiful”. It humbled and renewed me.
The results are below. Probably NSFW.
Photographs by Megan sky.