magic
Putting together these newsletters is the highlight of my week. I love making the collages that go in them. I love fleshing out the words and musings inspired to accompany them, but my absolute favorite thing are the comments and conversations that come after a newsletter gets published. I’m grateful to receive so many thoughtful replies from some many incredibly creative people. You all inspire me. This is an apt example. Anne Silver Mondinot left me a wonderfully kind comment on a previous newsletter. It prompted me to write a reply that I thought I’d share with the rest of you. Thanks for everything!
I’ve read that there are three stages to a magic trick: The Pledge, The Turn, and The Prestige. In the Pledge the magician shows you an ordinary, every day object, something you’ve always seen but never paid attention to.
In the Turn the magician makes it do something extraordinary, the impossible becomes possible in a way we can’t believe, we question the very nature of truth and reality.
And in the Prestige, the magician resolves the mystery, not in a way that answers all our questions, but in a way that shows us how far deeply and widely the mystery breathes into everything, that the miraculous is hidden within all things.
I’m not a magician, just a maker. Sometimes I make things with paper. Sometimes with pixels. Sometimes with words. I believe that all making is a kind of enchantment. But I believe that writing is a chance to do something that is especially magical. That it can take the most mundane of things, thoughts, and feelings, that it can turn them into something beyond belief, and that it can present them back to us in a way that makes us change the way we see the world. The pledge, the turn, and the prestige.
It’s a sacred honor to fulfill this code every time words are committed to a page. When it’s done right, when it’s done well, when it’s done with discipline, commitment, and grace, we all get to share in the revelation of seeing all the moments that the magic has always-already been there. And then we get to participate in the practice of believing and seeking it out everyday. Of learning the trick, and teaching to as many others as we can along the way.
In case no one’s told you today, I love you with all my everything.
Keep doing what you do.
Reading this feels like watching someone gently reveal the secret clockwork behind what makes art and life feel magical. The way you describe the process, how the ordinary becomes extraordinary and then circles back to reveal even more mystery, is exactly how your work lands for me. You have a gift for turning the smallest moments and materials into something that pulses with wonder, and your words remind me why we keep making, and sharing, and looking for enchantment in the everyday.
As an artist, I am constantly inspired by your openness and the care you put into every piece. It is not just the collages or the writing, but also the way you nurture conversation and community around it all. Thank you for showing up with so much generosity, and for reminding me that the real magic is not just in the making, but in the sharing, the seeing, and the believing together.