Tag Archives: artist

Self Worth

I feel myself worthy, I’m full of confidence I know exactly who I am. Onstage.

On stage I make people smile, I lift their spirits, I show them miracles. On stage we are one, and they believe in me.

Off-stage, not so much. I’m still the 10 year old who does not get picked. The last kid, awkwardly standing alone while cool kids choose someone else, because I just don’t measure up. I’m not quite good enough. Off stage.

It’s lonely off stage. At the end of the day I am by myself, and left to comfort myself. I am quite aware that this is the life I set up for myself.

And perhaps that’s how it’s to be. I’ll use this time to make my time on stage a little bit better. I would have liked to have been chosen, I no longer expect it.

I still have the stage, and I’m still kinda important there.

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Travelin’

Early morning, airport … Charlotte. Chats with friends last night have left me extremely lonely.

“You should find someone who can love who you are.” “You should be more social.” “I worry about how isolated you are.”

I hear you … and I don’t really think about it much until you bring it up. This morning I’m tired and weary, and I wish I had someone waiting for me.

Ah, well. I’ll try not to become maudlin. Nothing worse than a maudlin magician.

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NYE 2018

My resolution for 2018 was ‘Have Less. Be More.”
In February I reduced my footprint by two thirds and moved to Los Angeles, where i immersed myself in the Magic Castle and the creativity and art that grows there.
Tonight, on the closing night of the year, I’ll be performing in the Hat and Hare Pub inside the World Famous Magic Castle. A spot of honor.
Resolution 2018: Nailed It.

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For Wesley

“There’s one more kid that will never go to school, never get to fall in love, never get to be cool.” ~ Neil Young

This isn’t going to be well written. I’m filled with grief and I’m mourning a life that was way too short.

I do work and donate time and money to the MDA. I’m just telling you, I’m not bragging. I donate when i don’t think I can afford to. I give time and performance when i could honestly use the money. It’s the one kid’s show that I do, ever. Once a year: the MDA summer camp. Believe me when i tell you that it is hard work, and an absolute joy, a true honor.

I love those kids. I love the counselors. I love the organization and the back breaking work they do for these awesome young humans.

and this love, as most things do, comes with a price. Time and money, sure. Sacrifice, yes … but the kind of sacrifice that is a pleasure to make. The steepest price is death. These children have different forms of Muscular Dystrophy. They waste away. They fight, and they struggle and they live the best possible life they can. And the fight gets lost, and the cost is life.

I lost one today. I got the news via Facebook and a friend. This boy had spark, he was energetic and joyful and funny. He was Into all the activities and quick witted and … I cried in the pain of losing him.

“His pain is over. His suffering is at an end.”

Yeah. Okay. Soon another will follow him. and another, and another. Because there’s not a cure right now. In this enlightened, advanced day and age, why are we still fighting so bitterly over imaginary lines, ideology, dogma, when we could direct that energy into love and healing? I know … I sound naive and childish. Perhaps.

Right now all I see is a boy that should be feeling those awkward growing pains, instead of suffering from literally withering away. I boy that should be alive and vital, and instead … is dead.

I lost a bit of my heart and softness today, and it feels like I’ve already scraped myself thin. I wept hard and quietly and briefly (my beloved roomie said that I had BETTER cry more than that when she goes. Made me laugh.) And now I feel a little more hollow. I’ve had several surprise breakdowns.

I’m going to continue to fight for them, the remaining. I’m going to donate and advocate for love and healing and cures .. and kids in camps.

Goodnight, Wesley. This one is for you, champ.

Support the MDA: http://www2.mda.org/goto/memorymakers

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March 7, 2018

And now, the bad news:

Monday morning I received a subpoena from Dawn’s attorney. This was for contempt of court hearing number 5.

The reason?

Because Wells Fargo took $2500 out of my account on February 15th due to old bad debt. The money was set aside to pay alimony and attorney fees. In addition a couple of show checks were chasing me around the country in search of my new address, and they were later than expected. So … I was late on February alimony and arrears. It was paid, it was just late. So they hit me with contempt.

On May 21, I have to appear in Mecklenburg county court to defend myself against criminal contempt charges. I will have to cancel two shows and come up with airfare. I can’t seem to make the opposing party understand that this will cripple my ability to pay my monthly due. I contacted the clerk of court about changing the date, but that was a no.

I just need a break from the persecution … and a few shows to get my momentum back.

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My First Book

Across the Table: Tales and Inspirations from a traveling #cardmonkey.

Now available at Lulu.

Thank you for your support, I hope you enjoy it.

h

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Fellow Travelers

“Excuse me.”

That was the entirety of our conversation. I was on my Delta flight, flying from Minneapolis to LAX, to work a week at the Magic Castle. I was seated in my aisle seat, and the young gentleman was assigned to the middle. I had boarded early, and he was asking to get by so he could get set for our flight.

I plugged my music into my ears, settled back for the 4-Hour flight, and let my thoughts drift. It’s the way I cope with long flights. Turbulence doesn’t really bother anymore, and it’s become rather routine. The modern Life of a traveling showman, eh?

About twenty minutes in, I saw him fading: sleepily leaning forward and catching himself.

And then … He succumbed. He fell asleep and slowly leaned over, tucking his head onto my shoulder. For a moment, I didn’t quite know what to do. Window seat dude gave me a bemused look like … ‘wow, glad it’s not me.’ 

I thought about waking him up, but … Something just told me to let it be. He wasn’t hurting me, he wasn’t being inappropriate, he was tired. Weary.

And man, aren’t we all, these days? 

So when he shifted in his sleep and put his hand on my chest, I didn’t mind. Apparently my cuddling abilities are legendary.

He slept, he found some peace for a couple of hours, and some human contact. Contact is good for the soul, right? I mused on why he might be making  this journey, and  what strength he might need to gather on his way. He found some peace, and I was fortunate enough to be the ‘pillow’ he found it on. 

Shortly before we began our descent into LA, he sat up and then slowly came awake. I don’t think he ever realized what had happened.

It felt good to be comfortable being a comfort.

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