The Blog Begins!

To myself I seem “normal,” or at least familiar. The fact that I am a magician is fun and exciting to me. But I also know the mundane, trudging side of my life, not to mention its very unmagical, all-too-often downers. Being a magician is all pretend; living a life is all too real. Nevertheless, people are fascinated with magic, and I am told that the daily adventures and misadventures of a magician would be of interest to many people. Thus this blog.

If you have ever wondered what it’s like to be a magician . . . well, I cannot answer that question in the abstract; I can only share what it’s like to be this particular New York magician on this particular day. If that sounds interesting, hang on for a bit and see where the road takes you.

As for my magic business, check out http://www.warrenmagic.com/. As for my magic life, stay tuned to this New York magician’s blog.

For my first trick, ladies and gentlemen, I will attempt to publish a new post every day or every couple of days. Eventually I hope to settle into a rhythm and a schedule so that you, dear reader, might know when to expect new posts.

In case you're curious, today Magic Man spent a couple of hours practicing ripping apart playing cards and putting them back together -- not with tape or glue, but with magic of course. (Yeah, I wish! Actually, simulating the piece-by-piece restoration of a playing card is a knuckle-busting feat of macho sleight-of-hand, especially the Hollingworth version I've been working on. I learned it back in 1995, performed it for many years, but had to relearn it today because I stopped doing it several years ago. Yes, it's easier to relearn than to learn the first time, but it's still no picnic. Sleight-of-hand's a bitch; and then you do it again.)

During this practice session I spent some time worrying about getting older, sadly anticipating (and trying not to anticipate) arthritic, gnarled fingers that will no longer be able to flick a Bic much less a playing card. Not that my hands are tending toward that eventuality -- but my imagination sometimes goes to places like that, even in the midst of laughter and joy.

Today I also spent some time playing with Nate, my six-year-old son. Speaking of flicking, we played a game that involved flicking plastic monkeys into a plastic palm tree. If the monkey hangs on, you flick a second one. When all four of your team-monkeys are hanging on, you win a banana. Hang on, my friends: I promise you no bananas . . . only the thoughts of a New York magician. Ciao.