Intentionally distracted attention.
08.15.17 – Levitating
I wonder what made a rabbit so willing to hide in a top hat. I’d seen too many magicians with rolled up sleeves slide their hands behind the black well and reveal a hard contrast of snowy fur without so much as a shift change in their expression. I’d swear there was confetti and glitter raining down somewhere on that stage forcing me to keep rearranging my gaze on fluttering glints and adjusting foregrounds so I wouldn’t notice the set switch. That pearly greeting stayed for a bit of compliment, his hand hard around the ears and dragging a rather resigned rabbit from a felt ring. This was a normal thing.
Card tricks were left elsewhere for pick-up. This illusion ran grand, hopping happily about our heads despite the queer nature of its subjects. There was danger in the other fabrications, the slight sleights with sword and saw or the trapping and drowning of hero and heroine alike. Those were harder to stomach as cantrips, and left us escaped from the levity of a theatrical performance. We were meant to be assistants too; the crowd could pull and presume for each other, taking the place of the man beside. It was easy to be enticed to peer over the lead’s shoulder and guess at the nature of his movements. You’d trace an important gesture and follow the flash to the wrong end, joyful for it.
I showed up wanting to re-believe in the impossible, to re-insert myself into the conversation with my imagination. I missed the hares hidden beneath the felt and fabric, eager to pounce and play with twitching tail and nudging noses. They seemed kind and alive and moved like a marvel and we were waiting along with them. The magicians didn’t manifest an animal, they substituted a bit of space for something wonderful, a show of surprise. That docile and skittish fur ball was just a replacement for our own position, a wide-eyed, suspiciously alert audience that sat still till it was pulled, inexplicably into a new frame.