13.03.2012 283: 12.19.19.03.17 5-Kumk'u, 7-Kaban
I suppose a diary entry like this is better reserved for something on pen-and-paper, something that is private and safe to hold in one's heart. However, I think that at least part of it is relevant to the magic community and in all fair honesty, I believe that if I have the capacity to give others a reason to have faith in humanity, then I will. Whether the reader is or isn't interested as they pass through this forum matters not to me, and I stress that I do not merely write this as a cry for attention (well, your mileage may vary as to that), or as practice for a 6-points worth GRE essay, but to take a moment of silence to ponder the true meaning of the art that we call magic.
Today on March 13, 2012, it was announced through email, twitter, and their webpage that the Columbus Magi-Fest, which had been running for over 80 years already, will no longer continue its run. This means that the 2013 Magi-Fest is cancelled and the pre-registration fees will be refunded to the registrants (in fact, refund checks are already arriving in the mail as we speak). This is their exact message as given on their webpage:
As it stands, many have mourned the loss of this great convention, a fact that I am privy to, having just gotten back from calling the former Magi-Fest director Jep Hostetler. In expressing my feelings about this, I told him everything. Guessing from the title, I suppose this is as far as you'll go before closing the page or at least replying, and I'm sorry if you develop any hard feelings for me, what with me being the one to announce this to the forums. But the convention had its good run, and in all fair honesty, it was the one place to give me happiness.
Many would probably merely regard the retirement of Magifest as at least an inconvenience, at worst a reason for brooding resentment. But after having given some thought to this matter and accepting the loss, I began to wonder about the real nature of what makes magic so - how do I call this - cool. Introspectively, I decided to start the journey from my own happiness.
I suppose I should start from the beginning.
Those who attended the convention might remember a certain Eric Jones, who ran the Ellusionist booth at the site. This was the primary reason I chose to come this year, wishing to re-establish a bond that I had made with him 2 years back at the 2010 Magifest (apart from my blindingly obvious stupidity in not having the Extension of Me DVD set that I bought from him signed right then and there). As I arrived at the Renaissance Hotel, Razor A4 scooter in hand, I paid the registration (well, Jep himself actually) $20 for the close-up show and the dealer room alone (after all, where else did I want to go?). Like a bull charges at the matador's cape, I made a beeline to the dealer room and to Eric's booth only to be met with disappointment at his absence. Oh well. Might as well hit the close-up show that I was late for anyway. I watched 5 of the 6 performers, culminating in David Roth's coin routines. Well, I enjoyed them as much as I could, what with ducking out of the room every time the magician finished so that he could autograph my messenger bag.
Well once I was out, Eric had indeed shown up and we met with a very warm welcome. I'd updated him on my current situation, thanking him feverishly for the opportunity for us to meet just for that one time. We downed FUEL 7-Hour Extra Strength energy shot, just like old times (well actually in 2010 we had Wild Berry Rockstar shot, they all taste the same). We showed each other stuff and I asked about the Infinity Deck from Ellusionist, at which he gave me his on the house. Soon afterwards, I showed him my most prized possession: a rosary made with hematite beads and on the end, an Ellusionist Artifact coin that had a Karate hole cut into it by Roy Kueppers himself. All this in front of Justin Miller as well; suffice it to say that (after staring at the two-page long explanation of the symbology of the necklace) they asked for one of their own each. Also, as they both work for E, they assured me that they would put in a good word for me with Mr. Brumbalow (WOW!). As for the coins they would need for their own necklace, well, naturally they rounded on Schoolcraft, who was right across the E booth. Heh, I guess if Roy made this necklace, Schoolcraft would have to make my engagement gift (as in get-down-on-one-knee-and-ask-"will you marry me?" engagement). Before I left for good, though, I have to admit that my audaciity in telling them about the existence of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and the whole brony community might have been a bad and awkward mistake. Ah well, it was good while it lasted.
I suppose that the not-so-brief recollection of the four hours I spent there may have been a bit entertaining (or not) depending on your tastes. But how is this relevant to the main topic of discussion? I don't know if others who are reading this might feel the same way, but as I had fervently expressed to everyone involved, I was truly thankful for the mere opportunity for being there. Thankful for the support that others were able to provide, thankful for the camaraderie that came with the field of illusion, something that could not be achieved through a mere social network online, but could only be experienced in a setting that a magic convention could provide. I'd forgotten how much others of our kind were willing to reach out and watch my back when real life could not, especially at a time when I needed any help I could get. The taste of this life I had before, this world I created for myself, is worth more than even the most expensive and limited-edition products, tricks, DVDs or decks of cards money could buy. In a sense, the four hours of bliss and happiness I was able to spend at Magifest are perhaps the most valuable treasure I could claim to own pertaining to the art of illusion, and all this for a mere $20! Others would probably scoff that all I bought were a paltry assortment of decks of cards and an Okito voodoo doll, but these are tokens that tie me to that treasured time, as is the rosary.
They say that the art of magic is addictive, but during a time when I've been away from it long enough for the rest of this world to lose its color, this convention brought back some of that color, reminding me that life is truly worth living for.
When it comes to this Sean Skyhawk, there was the human behind the mask, one who virtually had no support from his family pertaining to matters academic or magical, one that was curbed and restrained from the art out of fear of me falling into obsession, one who actually attempted to take his own life a few times. He had to pretend to live in a world of grey (no offense to Master Daniel Madison) while suffering under the crushing pain that repeated travails struck him with.
On the other side of the coin, there is the free bird that exemplifies the very definition of illusionist. Admittedly I'm not very good at it, but in a sense, magic was a life I could call my own in order to escape the more crapsack aspects of reality that show up more and more often as we endure 2012. Here, in a colorful world of cards, coins, and white bunny rabbits, you could do anything. In a sense, the field became my refuge. It became my world.
That, by ourselves, our kind could be trapped so deep in the pain of reality that we lost sight of what was real is truly heartbreaking. That we joined hands and built the world of magic for ourselves over years, no, DECADES, is perhaps the most admirable thing to come out of magic. It is said that there are 10 theories, 10 styles, 10 Elements of Harmony in illusion. Some say the 11th was "community". Some were disappointed about the ultimate answer to the question "What is Theory 11?".
[continued in subsequent post]
I suppose a diary entry like this is better reserved for something on pen-and-paper, something that is private and safe to hold in one's heart. However, I think that at least part of it is relevant to the magic community and in all fair honesty, I believe that if I have the capacity to give others a reason to have faith in humanity, then I will. Whether the reader is or isn't interested as they pass through this forum matters not to me, and I stress that I do not merely write this as a cry for attention (well, your mileage may vary as to that), or as practice for a 6-points worth GRE essay, but to take a moment of silence to ponder the true meaning of the art that we call magic.
Today on March 13, 2012, it was announced through email, twitter, and their webpage that the Columbus Magi-Fest, which had been running for over 80 years already, will no longer continue its run. This means that the 2013 Magi-Fest is cancelled and the pre-registration fees will be refunded to the registrants (in fact, refund checks are already arriving in the mail as we speak). This is their exact message as given on their webpage:
Dear Friends:
The Columbus MAGI-FEST has had a great run of 80 years (81 conventions). And while we hoped to see the 100th, for now we’ve decided it’s time to retire the convention.
This decision did not come easily; there were several factors. The Redcoats have a strong friendship—we are like a second family to each other. We’ve all watched our kids (and even some grandkids) grow up at MAGI-FEST, and we thank you for being a part of their lives and for the wonder that we and they got to experience these many years. We finished the convention in the black, able to pay all our bills and refund money to those who pre-registered for 2013.
While we wanted to have our 82nd convention in 2013, we decided to change those plans after further reflection. We see some potential headwinds that could affect the quality and financial health of future conventions. These include:
- Long-time, loyal attendees who are aging out faster than younger registrants are coming in
- The downturn in the economy over the past few years
- Financial pressure on the convention due to increasing costs and insurance requirements, while keeping registration, food, and lodging costs affordable to attendees
We are all very sad to retire MAGI-FEST, but we want to do so on our terms as a quality, family-friendly convention, at an affordable price, that was fair to all who participated.
We also wish to thank our wonderful staff: Tony Dolciato, Randal Fath, Mike Heniken, Steven Kline, the Krech kids, Glenn Mackie, Red Penley, and Mike Sanderson. We appreciate their tireless dedication and support more than they know. They are the ones who made it happen at “show time”.
Thank you again for all your support, love, and friendship for these many years. We hope our paths will cross again in the future and that perhaps we'll see many of you at other magic-related events.
With warmest regards,
The Board of Directors of the Columbus Magic Club, Inc.
As it stands, many have mourned the loss of this great convention, a fact that I am privy to, having just gotten back from calling the former Magi-Fest director Jep Hostetler. In expressing my feelings about this, I told him everything. Guessing from the title, I suppose this is as far as you'll go before closing the page or at least replying, and I'm sorry if you develop any hard feelings for me, what with me being the one to announce this to the forums. But the convention had its good run, and in all fair honesty, it was the one place to give me happiness.
Many would probably merely regard the retirement of Magifest as at least an inconvenience, at worst a reason for brooding resentment. But after having given some thought to this matter and accepting the loss, I began to wonder about the real nature of what makes magic so - how do I call this - cool. Introspectively, I decided to start the journey from my own happiness.
I suppose I should start from the beginning.
Those who attended the convention might remember a certain Eric Jones, who ran the Ellusionist booth at the site. This was the primary reason I chose to come this year, wishing to re-establish a bond that I had made with him 2 years back at the 2010 Magifest (apart from my blindingly obvious stupidity in not having the Extension of Me DVD set that I bought from him signed right then and there). As I arrived at the Renaissance Hotel, Razor A4 scooter in hand, I paid the registration (well, Jep himself actually) $20 for the close-up show and the dealer room alone (after all, where else did I want to go?). Like a bull charges at the matador's cape, I made a beeline to the dealer room and to Eric's booth only to be met with disappointment at his absence. Oh well. Might as well hit the close-up show that I was late for anyway. I watched 5 of the 6 performers, culminating in David Roth's coin routines. Well, I enjoyed them as much as I could, what with ducking out of the room every time the magician finished so that he could autograph my messenger bag.
Well once I was out, Eric had indeed shown up and we met with a very warm welcome. I'd updated him on my current situation, thanking him feverishly for the opportunity for us to meet just for that one time. We downed FUEL 7-Hour Extra Strength energy shot, just like old times (well actually in 2010 we had Wild Berry Rockstar shot, they all taste the same). We showed each other stuff and I asked about the Infinity Deck from Ellusionist, at which he gave me his on the house. Soon afterwards, I showed him my most prized possession: a rosary made with hematite beads and on the end, an Ellusionist Artifact coin that had a Karate hole cut into it by Roy Kueppers himself. All this in front of Justin Miller as well; suffice it to say that (after staring at the two-page long explanation of the symbology of the necklace) they asked for one of their own each. Also, as they both work for E, they assured me that they would put in a good word for me with Mr. Brumbalow (WOW!). As for the coins they would need for their own necklace, well, naturally they rounded on Schoolcraft, who was right across the E booth. Heh, I guess if Roy made this necklace, Schoolcraft would have to make my engagement gift (as in get-down-on-one-knee-and-ask-"will you marry me?" engagement). Before I left for good, though, I have to admit that my audaciity in telling them about the existence of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and the whole brony community might have been a bad and awkward mistake. Ah well, it was good while it lasted.
I suppose that the not-so-brief recollection of the four hours I spent there may have been a bit entertaining (or not) depending on your tastes. But how is this relevant to the main topic of discussion? I don't know if others who are reading this might feel the same way, but as I had fervently expressed to everyone involved, I was truly thankful for the mere opportunity for being there. Thankful for the support that others were able to provide, thankful for the camaraderie that came with the field of illusion, something that could not be achieved through a mere social network online, but could only be experienced in a setting that a magic convention could provide. I'd forgotten how much others of our kind were willing to reach out and watch my back when real life could not, especially at a time when I needed any help I could get. The taste of this life I had before, this world I created for myself, is worth more than even the most expensive and limited-edition products, tricks, DVDs or decks of cards money could buy. In a sense, the four hours of bliss and happiness I was able to spend at Magifest are perhaps the most valuable treasure I could claim to own pertaining to the art of illusion, and all this for a mere $20! Others would probably scoff that all I bought were a paltry assortment of decks of cards and an Okito voodoo doll, but these are tokens that tie me to that treasured time, as is the rosary.
They say that the art of magic is addictive, but during a time when I've been away from it long enough for the rest of this world to lose its color, this convention brought back some of that color, reminding me that life is truly worth living for.
When it comes to this Sean Skyhawk, there was the human behind the mask, one who virtually had no support from his family pertaining to matters academic or magical, one that was curbed and restrained from the art out of fear of me falling into obsession, one who actually attempted to take his own life a few times. He had to pretend to live in a world of grey (no offense to Master Daniel Madison) while suffering under the crushing pain that repeated travails struck him with.
On the other side of the coin, there is the free bird that exemplifies the very definition of illusionist. Admittedly I'm not very good at it, but in a sense, magic was a life I could call my own in order to escape the more crapsack aspects of reality that show up more and more often as we endure 2012. Here, in a colorful world of cards, coins, and white bunny rabbits, you could do anything. In a sense, the field became my refuge. It became my world.
That, by ourselves, our kind could be trapped so deep in the pain of reality that we lost sight of what was real is truly heartbreaking. That we joined hands and built the world of magic for ourselves over years, no, DECADES, is perhaps the most admirable thing to come out of magic. It is said that there are 10 theories, 10 styles, 10 Elements of Harmony in illusion. Some say the 11th was "community". Some were disappointed about the ultimate answer to the question "What is Theory 11?".
[continued in subsequent post]