Last month I was one of the featured acts at the GeniiCon Convention in Sydney, Australia. It was a fantastic event, and I was honored to share the stage with a wonderful assembly talent. As part of the event, I presented two workshops on creating magic for the marketplace - or just for fun. During the session, I shared not only my own insights but material I’ve collected over the years on the topic of creativity.

If you have any favorite books on creativity, drop me a line. I always love a good recommendation. There’s a lot of sameness in material written about the creative process. Ironic, right? But every once in a while, I stumble on to something a bit refreshing. Currently, I’m finding some interesting ideas in the new book "Creative Quest"  - where musician, Tonight Show bandleader, designer, and all-around creative - Questlove, explores the topic. He shares an interesting anecdote about a short talk with one of my favorite musicians, David Byrne. He said Byrne suggested that to grow as a creative person it often helps to figure out what you are not.

I really like that idea.

I’ve long believed that limitations can help feed the creative mind. It seems counter to the idea of the open-minded freewheeling artist – but, personally, I feel too much room can lead to a lot of unexecuted ideas. Having some guiding principles helps immensely. The problem is that coming up with guiding principles TOWARDS what we want to be and achieve can sometimes be hard to define. How exactly do we come up with the plan to become something we’ve never been - or created? A good place to start might be to figure out where we don't want to finish.

What do you NOT want to be – or create?

​Coming up with those answers might surprise you. Establishing these types of guideposts can help provide a direction when you find yourself in a creative rut. It’s an interesting exercise and one that I’ve had fun exploring.

As an aside, neither Byrne nor Quest had a name for this process.

​I’m calling dibs on “Going Dobler”.

Tomorrow, I hit the road for nearly two months.

I’ll be spending time with magicians in five separate countries during this tour and I’m excited to get the ball rolling. I’ll be sharing some of the experiences on my social pages, so join me there if you want to stay connected.

During the last few years, I’ve spent a lot of time on the road – in front of real people, creating real moments of magic. I’ve learned a lot and built a host of relationships that I cherish deeply. If I had to squeeze out the most important lesson along the way, it would be this:

Nothing will make you grow faster and more fully as a magician (or as a human being)
​than by sharing your work with new people in new places. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s down an unknown street or across the state, the opposite side of the country or the flip side of the globe. Just get out there and do the thing.

​I’ve been thinking a lot about Daryl lately.
 
And JC Wagner.
And Tom Mullica.
And Barrie Richardson.
And Eugene.
 
And now Harry.
 
Thank you to so many people that guided me in ways they will never know. People that showed me ways to be better and how to be decent in a business that sometimes isn’t. People that taught me deep lessons disguised in laughter and wonder. My world is better because of you.
 
The world is better because of you.
 
The thing about magic that is hard to explain to the outside world - is how we often get to meet our heroes. More than that, we get to spend time with them and learn from them in ways that is unique to almost any other field. It’s remarkable really.
 
But it makes it all the more difficult when they’re gone.
 
I read once that silent gratitude isn’t much use to anyone. Time to speak up more.

There’s a common bit of wisdom that the juggler will steal the show on any magic convention bill. Having been present at many magic shows, I can verify it’s often true. Jugglers also tend to be some of the happiest, most friendly people you’ll ever meet – and they’re generally pretty positive towards each other’s work. I can’t say with certainty why this is, but I have made some observations...

Jugglers have easily understood and recognizable skill.
There’s no bullshitting when it comes to a juggler. Either stuff is in the air or it’s on the floor. Jugglers can quickly assess the ability and skill level of another juggler. Likewise, the audience can easily see if the juggler is successful and responds accordingly. In contrast, when it comes to a magician’s skill, we can bluff - audiences, other magicians, and sometimes even ourselves.

Jugglers get accolades for their skill.
A juggler does something difficult - he then steps forward and receives his applause. The magician in contrast, often must keep his skill secret. He spends a lifetime mastering a skill that few people are ever aware of. It’s like learning to play an instrument that only a handful of people can hear. Worse yet, if someone accidentally hears it – it means the magician has made a mistake. 

The juggler releases energy and works in the moment.
This one is less obvious but it might be the most important. The juggler’s work is physical and allows him to release nervous energy when he is on stage. The physical tension has no choice but to subside. The audience also permits the juggler to be present in his work. The audience understands the work is difficult. His focus on executing challenging moves is not only allowed - it’s expected. These things are far less common in a magic. I think this creates a “looseness” in the way a juggler works. A looseness that becomes even more apparent when contrasted with many magicians.

I have no idea if any of this is objectively true. I also don’t mean to imply that jugglers have it easier than magicians. I just like to look at fields outside of magic and see what they can teach me - sometimes I don’t have to look very far. So what are the lessons?

• Don't bullshit. It can be sensed by an astute audience. It also shows a lack of respect to those that have actually put in the work.
• Be happy in the work. If you’re doing the work for the accolades, you will be disappointed.
• Be present. The anxiety you feel can be navigated by focus and energy on the work before you.

Whether you’re keeping balls in the air literally or figuratively, that seems like some pretty sound advice.

​I just returned from the UK where I was attending the world’s largest magic convention. Each February for the last 66 years, the seaside town of Blackpool in northern England is flooded with magicians from across the planet.

THOUSANDS of them.

It moves fast and furious with oceans of magicians filling every pocket of the town. At some point in the midst of it, I always try to stop and be present to the sheer impossibility of it. This year, this quote kept coming to my mind:

“We of alien looks or words must stick together.” 
― C.J. Sansom

Over the last few years, I’ve been at nearly 100 live magic events across the United States and abroad. I’ve made new friends, connected with old, and shared thousands of moments.

When I think back on every truly powerful magic experience I have ever had - it has always been in the company of actual people in real world environments. I am grateful that we have the ability to connect online but the experiences produced live and in three dimensions are hard to match.

I hear a lot about the demise of the live magic experience. I see magicians working desperately to create an online presence, sometimes at the expense of building the skills to connect in the real world. Conversely, I see our online interactions as threads to connect us until the next live encounter. I value these threads - but their primary purpose is to guide me back to the living breathing person.

Standing in Blackpool in the midst of so many magicians, I was reminded of a simple fact:

Magic’s greatest strengths appear only when we are next to each other.

I hope that happens again soon.

​"Begin with the end in mind."
Stephen Covey

"If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it."
Elmore Leonard

"The beautiful thing about learning is that nobody can take it away from you."
BB King

"To gain your own voice, you have to forget about having it heard."
Allen Ginsberg

"Some painters transform the sun into a yellow spot; others transform a yellow spot into the sun."
Pablo Picasso

"The art of simplicity is a puzzle of complexity."
Douglas Horton

"A year from now you may wish you had started today."
Karen Lamb

"If I had asked people what they wanted they would have said a faster horse."
Henry Ford

"Animation is about creating the illusion of life. And you can't create it if you don't have one."
Brad Bird

"Think like an artist. Dress like an insurance salesman."
Tibor Kalman

I’ve mentioned previously that I’m not a big fan of December 31st as the ultimate night for resolutions and reflection. But as the year winds down, it’s hard not to contemplate the last 12 months – as well as the additional 552 months that preceded them.

I am ridiculously lucky to make a living doing what I do. Yes, there are times I complain. I’m human and I try not to beat myself up too much about that. But the idea that magic has provided me and my family a life is simultaneously astonishing, humbling, and terrifying.

Astonishing because who would have thought I could shape a world out of some cards, coins, and a pocketful of odd items? It’s remarkable where this unusual assortment of tools has taken me and who it has allowed me to connect with. Sometimes I find it bordering on the absurd that I’m still following the passion that I had as a child. I’ll admit it’s taken some unexpected twists and turns but, all things considered, it’s made a pretty fine compass.

Humbling because who would have thought I could shape a world out of some cards, coins, and a pocketful of odd items? In truth, I know it’s not those items - it’s you. The people that have continued to support me along the way. I’ve been able to build a career out of doing something I love and working alongside interesting people. That’s pretty awesome and I am forever grateful for your granting me that ability. I hope I can continue to earn your support and patronage into the future.

Terrifying because who would have thought I could shape a world out of some cards, coins, and a pocketful of odd items? The future is filled with unknown battles and my weapons of choice are those odd little tools and my knowledge of how to use them. That can be a little scary sometimes. Like Roy Scheider heading out to deep waters to take on Jaws – sometimes I feel like a I should have brought a bigger boat. Luckily, everything turned out alright for Roy - so I try to keep a positive outlook.

It’s weird how the same sentiment can conjure up so many different feelings – but indeed it does. Perspective is a funny thing and the capacity to use it is one of the most powerful resources I know. That may seem like a strange thought to end the year on – but it’s been a strange year. So, I’m loading up the provisions and soon I’ll be hoisting the anchor. I’m pushing this boat back out to sea and with any luck our paths will cross soon.

Today’s post is about focus.
 
I went to see one of my favorite plays this past weekend – David Mamet’s “Glengarry Glen Ross”. There’s a speed and density in Mamet’s dialogue that I love. It’s like there’s not enough time to get out everything he has to say, and he’ll be damned if he’ll dumb it down just to wait for some stragglers. The crowd responded oddly at some points - laughs in some deeply intense moments. I think the play has been parodied so many times that some people have a hard time not hearing certain memorable lines as comedy - instead of the drama that they actually are.
 
Where was I? Oh yeah, focus.
 
There was one audience member in particular that kept drawing my attention. She walked in late and took an open seat in the front row, just right of center. Immediately she began - loud laughing, wildly removing a coat in the middle of a profound bit of dialogue, talking to nearby audience members, strange stretching motions, even responding to lines from the actors. Everyone was visibly bothered – even the cast. It was hard not to ponder the situation at hand…
 
I’ve had my share of experiences with a less than attentive audience member. It can be so difficult to stay the course and not let their distractions become yours. It’s common practice to expect the performer(s) to muster through. But this particular moment reminded me how one person can really alter an experience - not just for themselves but for every person present.

In our increasingly over connected society, we paradoxically seem to be more disconnected to the world that is actually around us. Our devotion to the bubble we are all building around ourselves oozes out in ways we might not even imagine. We don’t care about the scene we’re creating because we live in a world in which that scene is the only thing that matters.
 
I looked back to her in the front row and realized she was intently watching the performance.
 
Then I snapped back to the present. A few scenes had passed during my silent drifting, Was that her fault or mine? I remembered a quote I read once…
 
“I've always been more comfortable sinking while clutching a good theory than swimming with an ugly fact.” I found myself trying to recall who said that.
 
Focus, Paul.

A therapist set half a glass of water in front of me and asked if I was an optimist or a pessimist. So, I drank the water - and told him I was a problem solver.
 
Years ago, when I ran a walk in magic shop, I often encountered a problem when someone new stepped through our door. Was the person a potential customer or merely curious? After all, "magic shop" means something if you're a magician but - to the uninitiated - it can conjure up a host of unrelated meanings. Even asking a direct question like, “Are you interested in magic?” could cause more confusion than clarity.
 
My solution was a small refrigerator magnet.
 
While browsing through a novelty catalog I stumbled upon a small magnet with the image of an eye on one side. When you tilted the magnet, the eye would blink. I bought a bunch of the magnets - along with the special coins used in an old children’s trick called Magical Block. This combo allowed me to make a penny apparently change into a dime when I placed the blinking eye onto the coin. I packaged the two together and gave it the name, “Just Looking”.
 
When someone walked in, I would take a few moments to silently assess if they seemed like engaging. If they did - I would ask, “Can I help you?” Nine out of ten times they would answer with, “Just looking.”
 
“Oh, that’s over here.”, I’d respond.
 
“I’m sorry, what?” Now they were asking ME a question and that completely changed the dynamic of the conversation.
 
“It’s right here...”, I would say - gesturing them to come closer. I’d place the penny on our close-up mat, touch the eye to the coin, and presto – the coin magically changed. I’d immediately direct them to the package on the counter so they could clearly see its name. “That’s Just Looking, it a great trick for a beginner. Do you do magic?”
 
In those few moments, they had drawn themselves into the experience and seen something pretty amazing.  The also gained a firmer grasp on what all those strange things were that filled our shelves. That’s a lot to accomplish with so few words.
 
Whatever answer followed that question, at least we were both on the same page - and we had some fun getting there. I didn’t use this every time a new person strolled in but, when the moment was right, it broke the ice better than almost any other approach. In a sea of sameness, sometimes your best bet is being a bit unorthodox. If you’re having trouble opening doors, maybe it’s time to find your own little magnet.​

A few weeks ago, I had my head split open.

It was pretty wonderful.

I finally had the chance to see Derek DelGaudio's "In & of Itself". There’s a good chance if you’re reading this blog, you probably have some knowledge of the show - or at the very least of Derek DelGaudio.  If you know anyone who has seen the show, they have probably struggled to describe it to you - and that should be the first sign that something very different is happening in that room.

I’m not going to explain anything from the show. Reducing it to its parts will fall short every time. All I can say is that it was the most authentic magic experience I have ever had in a theatre.

As much as I loved the show, it left me a little broken. I keep thinking about that word - authentic. I don’t think we use it much in magic, nor do I think creating authentic magic moments is something most magicians aim for. I know I’m guilty of it – and it cuts even deeper when you see how well it can be done.

If you have the chance, go see the show. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

If you’ve seen the show and thought it would be interesting to spend a couple hours getting inside Derek’s brain, then I think you’ll enjoy this interview with him on the Pete Holmes podcast.