Monday, February 22, 2010

thaumaturgy


\THAW-muh-ter-jee\

noun

: the performance of miracles; specifically : magic

i was an avid believer in magic as a child. i think this belief came from a combination of influences: television shows like Out of This World, the Abracadabra book series, any number of films (specifically the likes of Teen Witch), and the fact that both my mother and grandmother used to say the phrase, where there's a will, there's a way. i understand that now to mean motivation induces results. but then i interpreted it as, if i want it, i can make it happen. and by what other means than magic? i just had to figure it out.

my most advanced experiment in THAUMATURGY took place in the fifth grade (fifth grade seems to be really relevant this week; see Feb. 17 and Feb. 21) when jen martino, debbie peckham, and i attempted to make a recipe for love potion brownies out of one of the Abracadabra books. it was just a normal recipe for brownies. the magic was in the makers (two girls from the books who possessed inherent powers) and some weird love poem recited to the recipient while he consumed the magic love brownie. this didn't seem like enough. somehow knowing that green m&ms were considered an aphrodisiac (while simultaneously not knowing what that word meant) i thought it would be a good idea to add some to the recipe. the result was a pan of brownies the color of a mossy tree branch.

nevertheless, we proceeded. the subject was one chris flynn, a boy jen had had a crush on for some time (i'm remembering a span of years, actually). chris was a nerdy boy, fair-skinned, round-faced, clad in polo shirts and loafers. not the fifth grade heartbreaker. the three of us waited until a point when he was alone during recess and surrounded him. i think he may have been terrified. while jen read the love poem, debbie held some crystal over his head (i probably got the crystal from my brothers' hippie father and thought it had some powers) and danced in circles around him, chanting something indecipherable. i was in charge of the brownie, holding the greenish-brown square inches from his mouth.

eat the brownie chris.

but my memory stops there. i cannot remember whether or not he ate it. i'm assuming not. i'm assuming he broke free, which was probably in his favor since jen martino kind of turned out to be a bit (understatement) promiscuous and he probably went on to harvard or something.

i think we just ate all the brownies, actually. and nobody fell in love.

No comments:

Post a Comment