功夫 Gung Fu - Supreme Mastery

Kung Fu (功夫) more accurately pronounced as "Gung Fu" is made of two Chinese characters "功" (Gung) and "夫" (Fu).

The character 功 (Gung) is the combination of two other Chinese characters "工" (Gung) meaning labor and hard work and "力" (Lik) meaning energy and strength. The character "夫" (Fu) depicts a person carrying two poles on their shoulder.

Based on the combination of characters used, the Gung Fu practitioner must work hard and persevere through in order to achieve Supreme Mastery.

▶️ Watch on 3Speak

For 18 years I devoted myself to the Art of Prestidigitation, my forte being sleight of hand with playing cards; my style being storytelling, merging manipulation with poetry, often showcased in my one-man small theatre shows and private gigs such as "Shuffling Philosophies", "A Pack Of Cards", and "Sojourn".

My opening monologue, when I entered the stage, before seating at the card table was a blurb of my life...which I thought set the tone very well, as it let my audiences know what caliber of an artist I am...

Long before I had words to describe my curiosity, I was already inquiring into Secret Things. Long before any pursuit of artistry became possible for me, I was already out there asking, seeking, wandering, playing. Long before I knew anything about playing cards, my position was already determined in the perpetual shuffling of Life.

I have lived many lives of honesty, also many lives of deceit, befriending the virtuous, the cunning, the outcast and the common man. In my quest to find what honour means in a world of deception, who I am in this life, my journey has been filled with triumph and disaster, adventures and revelations.

Without realising, my story was written; without reservation through fifty-two companions my story is chronicled, and through you, Ladies and Gentlemen, my story comes alive. My name is Jin, and this is where we begin...

Falling into the Art was the light that 15 year old me needed, as then my spirit dwelt in a dark place after running away from a severely dysfunctional and domestically violent home life.

I remember sitting there, watching David Blaine's "Street Magic" documentary and being amazed at how a pack of cards could bring such joy to random strangers.

I remember performing my first trick, the "Two Card Monte" to a pregnant lady on a swing and she telling me to go forth with my Art as happiness is what we all need.

I remember for 8 years I wandered the cities of England, performing street magic for anyone and everyone; honing my skill with my very good secondary school friend (who's still my closest friend to this day) with beautiful card routines and a pack of dreams.

I remember those two busking adventures during the Edinburgh Fringe Festival on the Royal Mile, going toe to toe with seasoned street pros at 18 (didn't earn shit though, them pros were no joke!).

I also remember meeting my mentor Michael Vincent and our decade long Master-Student relationship, our travels together, and our brotherhood which bloomed so beautifully. He took my education to the outer limits. I shadowed him everywhere and became a trusted comrade. Through him I developed my skill with a pack of cards and my one man shows, being the first Oriental to showcase his storytelling close-up card magic shows; through him I realized what high-class classical close up card magic was, and it's magnificence; through him I came to admire and achieve a semblance of self-mastery through Rene Lavand. I remember our journey together, bonding and forming a close brotherhood that ended so tragically, pitifully, and untimely.

And finally my first and final student in Prestidigitation.

For 18 years I struggled in the Art of Magic, though my style was distinct, refreshing, my approach to storytelling unseen in England, as I had the decades of travel experiences merged into my card routines, flavouring my Shows. Why I struggled I do not know, but deep down I always felt (maybe wrongly) that as an Oriental I was not and will never be truly accepted by the Western audiences.

I failed miserably in a commercial sense, never achieving the Professional status that 15 year old boy dreamt of.

Soon I found myself at 28 losing the passion for the Art. Having given my personal magic library away for the third time and taking my second long hiatus in search of myself. But still I persevered. By the time I was 30, I had stopped practicing, stopped working on my shows. Everything stopped. 2020 was not a good year.

In searching my feelings for a reason, I can honestly say it came down to failing to realize who I truly am, and what I truly wanted. Michael would always stress "authentic self expression", not just in front of our audiences, but in life. I never would've thought that the time I put into Prestidigitation was fueled by a phantasma, an illusion, that I desperately wanted to become. Not knowing that an Artform belongs where it belongs and to whom it belongs.

Legerdemain is purely a Western Art. All this time I had tried to force myself into a culture that maybe I wasn't meant for, nor had any true emotional attachment to. I tried to emulate, however artistically, someone or something that I wasn't.

I have contemplated this and I know it to be true. So then why did I spend all this time honing my skill with the playing cards?

I was seeking for a way to master myself.

Prestidigitation was the illusion I fell in love with and through my obsession I held it too tight, in fear of it flying away, only to end up crushing it in the palm of my hands.

Gung Fu was never something I'd get into, though it has always been a part of my life. Grandad used to practice Choi Lee Fut, so did all my uncles, as well as my Father. I remember reading about the Boxer Rebllion, where countless countless Martial Artists died under the crushing weight of the psy-op that was the Opium Wars in order to protect the motherland; those Wong Fei Hung movies; the Bruce Lee movies; the Jin Yong Wuxia Novels, the Triad lifestyle that my family lineage was steeped in, which Gung Fu was highly valued in such a lifestyle. And then my time on the sacred Wudang Mountain.

The culture of Gung Fu was everywhere in the Chinese Life - the elders who practiced and taught in the Chinese and even Cantonese villages; the adults who all came from different walks in life, nearly every one of them a Gung Fu practitioner; the maturing youngsters who all walked into the martial arts life in order to learn self defence and perhaps find some self worth; and the truly young saplings who all dreamed of being a Martial-Vigilante (Wu - Martial; Xia - Vigilante).

Over the years living semi-nomadically, being a stranger in many lands, I came to miss my Hong Kong very very very much. It seems to me that I am forever the Stranger; a stranger in England my birth place, and a stranger when I'm back home. Seeking peace in an state of endless Limbo.

With how things are with HK and it's oppression under the CCP regime/takeover, I can't bring myself to return home - now a place that's violently losing it's beauty and Cantonese culture. Yet I've never forgotten my true roots and my connection to it.

Now Gung Fu comes to me in a new paradigm. It's personal and mostly selfish, but it's an honest type of selfish: I not only wish to learn self-defense, nor achieve supreme mastery through an Artform, but I wish to remember Home. Through Gung Fu I find myself transported there, whatever phantasma-illusion of Home is in my mind.

Wing Chun Fist (Fist of the Singing Spring) not only has a deep history and prosperous lineage, made famous by Yip Man when he moved to Hong Kong, but it's founded on Hope.

The style was developed on the Red Opera Boats by outlaws of the Ming Dynasty, during the Manchurian takeover. It was developed because of a Hope that one day the Han people would regain the China that was lost to the Manchu's. An Artform that brings hope....the same hope that Prestidigitation gives to the Artists and Audiences...

...a type of Hope that allows the Magician to retain their spirit of magic and their capabilities to be amazed in a world of delusion, deception, and dreams.

I dreamt of happiness in a dark world,

befriending Deception in my need;

self-healing was the cause

that vanity soon possessed;

hope turning cynical.

Strange reflections and the sojourn,

in search of excellence that I yearned,

to quell this restless soul.

This skill of learning never failed,

another crossroad reached;

I stand now

in this perpetual shuffling of life,

a pack of dreams transformed

into Supreme Mastery.