Magic, and grownups inclined to take pleasure in its ambiguous status, its relationship to artifice and sympathy, rather than feeling burdened by the whole thing. Wondering how long you can practice magic before it becomes an anvil between your ribs. Like how many minutes a chill can creep around your spine before it presages nerve damage. The average timespan of a trance.
Same thing with loving a God, any God. Loving God more than art. Loving art that comes from a spiritual rather than aesthetic regime.
“Magic and also an open faith in God have seemed far more taboo than a total commitment to art.” — Ariana Reines