Tag Archives: Inspiration

Christmas Eve, 2018

It’s on this night that I take stock of my year. I’ve been doing this since my life changed in 1988 … so thirty years. Raise a glass to thirty years.

In 1988 I met the one. Married the one. Had a child with the one. Christmas Eve found me in the downstairs of a wee two bedroom apartment, playing Santa for the two new females in my world. I scrimped and hustled and saved to make it nice … and I sat up late afterward, drinking eggnog and nibbling cookies and thinking it all over. Big changes, new adventures. A twisting unknown road ahead. And i raised my head and silently asked for strength. Not so much help … as strength.

“Let me be a good partner. Please let me be a good father … grant me strength to walk this road ahead.”

Thirty years and thousands of miles away and … an entirely new life … here i am again. Grateful.

But asking for strength.

New Year. Resolution.

Something simply stated, but with determination and a specific goal.
I want to improve on my basic skill set. I want to tell better stories, create better scripts, live out loud more loudly, and polish up the heart on my sleeve.

I’m going to write one fictional story each week.  Maybe based on people I know, maybe woven from thin air. Most will suck, especially in the beginning. I hope that gems will uncover themselves in the process.

I’m going to be more open about my views and life events in this public blog.
Not daily writing (maybe) but several times a week, providing whoever wants to read it an in-depth story of what’s going on in my head. Dangerous? Scary? Yep.

There will continue to be my semi-monthly column in Genii magazine. I will write for the podcast. I will create new magic and share more video.

It’s a big undertaking, and i’m doing it in order to not become lethargic or mediocre.

Some of it may hurt. Me. You. Them.
I’m sorry … I’ll do my best to be cruelty free, but I’m going to be honest. Art demands it.

Life is criminally short and one time around is all you get. Let the art do the talking.

My New Year’s Resolution is this:

Just Write.

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Center

Trying to find mine.

I got home tonight and stood … as I do … and searched the sky. Orion was on the horizon, with Betelgeuse and Rigel shining steadfast.

Someone asked me during the Q&A today if I had found a peaceful place like my back porch was at home, and I had to say no. I don’t have that meditative spot like I used to. Someone else asked if I have romantic love in my life, and I can’t answer that very simply. There’s a woman who cares about me very deeply (I don’t use names without permission, and we haven’t had that talk yet.) and there’s affection and caring … but (cliche incoming) it’s complicated. There are issues she needs to settle in her own world before she can comfortably explore mine. So we are separate.

I fill up my time with art and work and vital things. I try to not think of romance or physical affection. Self doubt in these areas grows. Am I worthy of that kind of love? Am I deserving?

I don’t know.

So I work, and that is taking a special kind of patience. I’m not complaining, I’m good at what I do and I greatly enjoy it. My art is very satisfying, and I lift hearts. The obstacles are few (though mighty) and I am building good faith and reputation among my community and future clients. Life is Magic.

But now it’s 2AM and I wish I had someone to tell about my day. Someone who would be interested and even eager to hear about it. Oh, of course I’ll tell you … and I really should attack these keys more often, but I mean a partner. A Lover. Someone to pour my heart and dreams into. I have someone in mind … and she loves me back, of this I have no doubts. But she needs to overcome obstacles for us to be even remotely together, so I’m giving her time and space to figure things out.

I’m breathing. I’ll keep doing that.

Looking for my center. Longing for my love.

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Love Everywhere

I pour my heart, my essence, into my work.

I call it art and I try to keep a straight face.

I say what I believe. Sometimes those words are uncomfortable. So be it. I am sick of trying to second guess what might ‘hurt’ my career. I silenced myself and I whispered, just in case someone who might want to give me money for magic was listening.

Enough. I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Want to hold my heart against me?
So Be It. My creativity is running strong, and I need to what I can while I’m here.

Life is criminally short.

I’m spending it loving and spreading love. Romantic love seems to elude me … and that’s not what i’m talking about.  Maybe that’s just not my road. So be it.

Live performance. My first real love.

Writing. (Here and for Genii)
Video blog. https://www.youtube.com/user/HannibalGroup
Podcast. https://soundcloud.com/magicartist
These are mistresses I’m allowed. (For now)
Check them out … and subscribe for Hannibal content.

I need your support. Here’s my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/magicartist
Help me to continue to move forward. New content, new explorations.

I’m rededicating myself. Again.
This is Magic.
This is Hannibal.

Here I Am.

 

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Overheard

Olive Garden. Client/ friend took me for food and chat.

Seated nearby was a gentleman of roughly my age, and a young lady. He was business casual, she a bit more casual in jeans and heels. In conversation it came out that she was 26, but I first took her for 14-15. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but they were quite animated and louder than is customary in establishments such as the OG.

The first thing that drew my focus was him inquiring as to her line of work. “Sugar baby.” Came her reply. There was an extended pause. He spoke, “So is this an actual date, or are you fielding a new client?”

“A little of both” she honestly replied, “I haven’t really made up my mind about you, yet.”

I was intrigued, but focused on my own conversation as best I could. They seemed to be enjoying dinner and, apart from the occasional exclamation, (“his wife thought my dress was a gift for her, and I saw her wearing it in a couple of FB pictures. Never found my underwear, either. I wonder if she’s wearing those, too.”) they kept to themselves.

Later, as they got up to leave (she really wasn’t used to those heels), she turned to him and said, “Before this goes further, I need to let you know. I have a slight heroin addiction. It’s no big deal, really, and I only smoke it; I haven’t shot up since I got out of prison. I’m gonna get a cigarette and check on my daughter while you get the car.”

I’m living in LA, folks. Much love from the OG. More breadsticks?

 

Help support this magic artist: www.NekkidElfBoots.com

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Redemption

“What’s broken can be mended. What’s hurt can be healed. No matter how dark it gets, the sun’s going to rise again.” ~ Dr. Meredith Grey

The plot line or trope or whatever you would call it that I enjoy most in stories is the redemption narrative. I first encountered it in ‘Watership Down’ via Bigwig. A mild arc, but it spoke to me nonetheless.

Then Vader, and later still Shawshank, and countless others; the most powerful being ‘The Wrestler’. The title character seeks redemption and forgiveness from his daughter, and does not get it. So he pulls it from inside himself.

Redemption: Coming from the dark and finding the light, the love … the redemption of a new and better life.

This speaks to me in my life because a redemption narrative says: no matter how broken or wrong or bad or stupid or ridiculous or harmful or sad or terrible you are … you can atone.

There is still a road back. It might be rocky and steep, complicated and messy. Walking it may take your entire life. You may lose your foothold, slip and fall back into the abyss, but the wall is still there. The ascent is still there. Hard is not the same as impossible.

You are never too far gone. You are never beyond saving.

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March 10, 2018

Indianapolis, performing tonight for Park West Gallery, extolling the virtues of art and the pursuit of excellence.

The day is bright and cold.
Coincidentally and harmonically, my heart, soul, and head are in a very bright, peaceful place, though I am in more perilous debt and stress than I can remember.

Life is magic.

www.nekkidelfboots.com

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March 6, 2018

I got some bad news early in the day, and i’ll talk about that later, when i can discuss it rationally, but what I want to report to day is this:
I went to the Castle last night. I had to force myself to get dressed and drive over, because my brain was trying to tell me it was pointless. (You are not your mind) Once I got there, I enjoyed a couple of shows and had a pleasant conversation with Handsome Jack. (He’s bewildered that ‘Fool Us’ has not picked me up.)

And then …  a group of enthusiastic young people gathered around the table I was sitting at and requested a short show. “People tell us you are fun!” So I did my thing; we made art together and their energy translated into renewing laughter and loud astonishment. I refilled my spirit. I found out later that they were the cast of ‘Aladdin‘ .

and then … just before packing up to go home, a gentleman approached me, almost shyly. He told me he was a fan of my work, and wanted to chat for a moment. We talked about card tricks and apartheid, the Magic Castle and Trevor Noah.  He was from South Africa, and he told me that a friend had shared my blog with him. He was moved by my description and pictures from ‘The Naked Truth’, and he related that he was inspired by my “bold pursuit of art’.

A man from South Africa was moved to deeper love and creativity by my art and my words.

You don’t know (and you may never know) who you are affecting and how. Be true. Art hard. Do what you were made to do, and change the world.

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