The trick isn’t a trick.
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Notes
Magic works because we don’t know how the trick is done.
Art appreciation works because the artwork looks like magic; it’s awe-inspiring in the sense that it looks like the artist has some insight that comes from “communing with the universe.” Really, though, art is fundamentally the same as any other work.
Art comes from “trusting yourself to show up and do the work.”
Thoughts
I lean toward Seth’s ideas here, especially his conclusion, but I don’t fully buy what he’s selling here.
For one thing, I don’t experience magic the way Seth describes it. For him, the wonder of magic lies in a tension between seeing something impossible happen while knowing that it can’t really be impossible. When we learn how a trick is done, the tension “(and with it our interest, and the magic”) instantly disappears.
That’s not my experience. Though I never got any good at it, I spent some time learning a few card and coin tricks. I know how a lot of tricks are done, and I’ve never ceased to be amazed. In some cases, this may be admiration for the magician’s skill, and I’ll acknowledge that’s a different feeling. But I also know that there are often many methods for an illusion, and the fact that I know one doesn’t in fact mean that I understand the trick. (Watch Penn and Teller’s Fool Us for awhile and you’ll see the joy on their faces when a magician performs an old illusion with a new method.)
Similarly, I’m not sure I’m fully on board with his idea that “showing up to play jazz” and “showing up to work at the Department of Motor Vehicles” are “fundamentally” the same.
Like Seth, I don’t believe in mystical explanations of art—at least, not objectively. But my sense is that there are a lot of stories people tell themselves about their place in the universe—religious, spiritual, communal, muse-inspired, collectively unconscious, rebelliously genius, whatever—that change how they create that art.
Few people would bring that kind of story to their work at the DMV (most of us are not Brother Lawrence). And, as Seth has made clear, the stories we tell make a difference in how we act—in what we create.
That said, his main point here is that it is work, no matter what story we’re telling ourselves. And the fundamental fact about work is that it only gets done when we show up and do it.
This series is meant to capture my thoughts as I work through Seth Godin’s The Practice. It’s a book with over 200 (very short) chapters, which I hope to work through and, I further hope, to implement over time.
If you’re interested in more of Godin’s ideas, or my thoughts about them, you can check out this collection of posts. Note that if you’re more interested in the former, you should probably get Godin’s book and read it yourself; my notes will be both incomplete and idiosyncratic, and my thoughts will relate to my own experience.
But if my thoughts resonate with you, or if you think I’m just silly, I welcome your comments.