Real Magick

As a teenager I had a mild fascination with matters appertaining to the occult, as so many teenagers do. There was a positive side to this: it helped foster an apprehension of the otherness of so much of human experience; and there was a negative side: it was all something of a waste of time with, occasionally, unpleasantly sinister undertones. Growing out of such concerns I came to see the very real magic that underpins the everydayness of our lives.
 
This manifests in a variety of ways, but possibly most obviously of all in the transformative power of Art, especially the art of theatre. And, of course, Shakespeare has got it in bucketfuls. Is it possible to sit through even a lame performance of his Dream play without being placed under a spell? Let's face it, even the utterly lame Pyramus & Thisby takes its audience to another place - and possibly changes them for the better, if they allow themselves to recognise something of their own folly in it. After all, The best in this kind are but shadows.

I reckon our version of Midsummer is very far from lame. And I think it works its magic in conjuring spirits that might transform each of us into something a little bit better than what we are.