I just want people to feel like they’re in control early on because what they’re doing is difficult and unnatural. So if I can remove as many elements that are unnecessarily adding strain or discomfort, discomfort, I feel like that’s an obvious goal to have.

WSLT:
Okay, so we’re here today to talk about what you call “modern beginner moves”. Do you think you can define what that is for our readers?

PM:
I think what it boils down to is that, for the longest time, we’ve been having the problem with beginners wanting to get into cardistry and we’re just throwing them into what we began with in this art form. We went back to the things that we began with, but those moves may not be the best place for people to start. It’s just the resources we had at the time.

So I think there’s a lot of conversations that can happen around what "modern beginner cardistry moves” are and how we are designing moves to be that. And what we mean by that is moves that are creating a better foundation for people who want to learn cardistry. You’re developing and using mechanics that build off of each other more critically and in a better sequential way.

Like, maybe we always taught people to do the Charlier Cut first because that’s what we learned first. And we’re like, it’s one-handed and it’s two packets, but is that the best move for someone to learn first? Why is a table spread not a better idea, where they’re learning card control and they can build confidence and not worry about holding it in their hand, or what does it look like to create a move that you can specifically break down?

An example of that is a move I started working on that became kind of the beginning of this thought process, which is called “Angel Roll”. It involved Angel-ing a card, rolling the entire deck to the other hand, and placing the Angel down on top.

@card.wormIf you’re a beginner in cardistry and want to learn this move, let me know and I’ll make a tutorial! #cardistry #cardflourish #cardshuffling #playingcards #trickshot

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And the idea there was, “how can you make a move that you don’t have to learn like a sequence?” So the example we talked about yesterday with somebody was like, I don’t know if you’re familiar with this game or not: Cat Mario. Do you remember this?

WSLT:
I know Cat Mario, yeah, yeah.

PM:
Yeah. A rage game. It’s all about going forward, something happens, you fail and you fall. And like, having to keep memorizing random steps… learning cardistry moves as a beginner feels like playing Cat Mario, in my opinion.

Like there’s an aspect of, you’re watching a tutorial and everything crumbles and falls and you pick all the cards back up and you begin again. And you’re just doing this slow progression forward.

So instead, how do you create moves where you can be like, “learn an Angel” and someone can sit there and practice Angel-ing a card over and over again, learn a deck roll and they can learn how to do this back and forth and they can progress at those two things at their own pace? And then when they feel competent at both of those, they can combine those into a move. So it’s challenging. How are we designing moves to be more approachable for beginners and build off of things well to where they’re not just being thrust into it as crazily as all of us were where we went from the Charlier Cut to Sybil with a crazy jump in skills?

WSLT:
Incidentally, what was the move that got you into Cardistry?

PM:
See, this where I come from magic. It would probably have been going back to like Riffle Shuffle and a bridge. I saw that and I was like, “I must learn that” and spent months and months and months of the seventh grade being like, “bad, bad, bad”. And then from there, it probably was because I got indoctrinated through the YouTube pipeline of magic to cardistry with Sybil and false cuts. And then seeing all the Dan and Dave stuff and then discovering who the Danes were and that kind of progression, which I feel like is like extremely common from people like myself who were like getting into cardistry around the 2010 to 2013 era.

WSLT:
How would you say today’s beginners are different from someone who was starting out back in like the 2010 to 2015 era?

PM:
I think what’s different for them is there’s a more defined ecosystem for cardistry. When they look up “cardistry”, they see a larger variety of stuff. And sometimes some of the first things that are coming up are tutorials now. You’re not just looking up cardistry and finding solo videos; you’re looking up cardistry and tutorials are coming up, whether they’re SQUAREUP or Lotusinhand videos.

I also think people are discovering it more casually than we all were. I think they’re discovering it through social media, through TikTok, through all of these things. I think Haider, the SQUAREUP up guys, all these people are doing these big pushes on social media towards beginners. We’re seeing people get interested in cardistry through that. And I think what’s interesting about when people are getting into it through social media is that sometimes their first experience with cardistry is someone talking about cardistry, which I think is crazy.

WSLT:
So when it comes to people learning cardistry, what do you think gets people to quit in the first week? What are the roadblocks?

PM:
I think it’s hard. There’s usually a lack of tutorials to walk you through it. But usually if people don’t have a person in their life who’s interested in encouraging them and showing them the right videos, or passing along the right tutorials or giving them tips and tricks or helping them learn that, for example, “you’re using a way-too-brand-new deck of cards when you’re beginning and that’s going to make it hard; maybe let’s find an older deck of cards for you.”

I think those are the things that I’m seeing more cardists figure out. We need to have forums again. We need to have resources out there: workshops, places where as people get into cardistry, it’s a more encouraging environment to get you to stay and understand what the community and art form is. Because I think some people also find out about it and they’re like, “it’s just shuffling cards”. Some people find it more through the community and jamming side. So I think there’s also a lack of clarity of what the cardistry community is and what we do and why we do it. And so I think people just get lost in all of that. It’s very overwhelming. They start to learn about it. They start to dive deep and then they get a little confused and they kind of are dealing with moves that are way harder than they expect. And then they’re like, “I’m going to go learn to skateboard” and they just pivot on.

WSLT:
I guess what you’re talking about with modern beginner moves is already one step towards that. So — what can make a move feel good early on, even if it’s done badly?

PM:
I think if people can track how what they’re doing will allow them to do something cooler in the future. Myself, Carter Macdiarmid and Kyle Tran, were just having a conversation about this yesterday where we were talking about why we think the table spread is one of the best beginner cardistry moves to learn. And it’s because they can learn it easily on a table and it feels nice. It’s satisfying to do.

That’s low risk. They’re not having to do it over the ground or anything like that. They’re learning that deck condition matters. They’re learning that where you do cardistry matters. You can’t do a turnover spread and a table spread in a park. They’re learning small subtleties. But then what you can do the second they start to learn that is go, “here’s all the possibilities that you can do with this thing.” Arm spreads. You can do spreads in a move and turn them over. You can throw them in the air. You can catch them on your feet. People do spreads on legs, on tables. You can show them Lars’s caterpillar-walking-spread move. And you can just be like, “you’re just learning the basics for all of this. What you did theoretically transfers into this one day as you develop skill and hand-eye coordination.”

I think that’s super beneficial for people getting the itch because they learn something quickly and then they go, “if I work on this and get really good at this, I can do these other cooler and bigger things.” And it’s really transferable as opposed to just teaching someone the Charlier Cut and then going, “now go do Ladies and Gentlemen 2 by Quentin”. That disconnect is massive.

It’s more similar to skateboarding where it’s like, you don’t learn to kick flip first. You learn to Ollie first. And then you’re like, I can get in the air. Now I need to spin the board. I can now do a Kick Flip. I can now add a Shove-it. And if I do a Shove-it and a Kick Flip, all of a sudden I’m doing a Varial Flip. Then you’re building off of it more easily. And I think cardistry lacks some of that building-off-of-itself early on.

WSLT:
That progression reminds me a lot of those skill trees that you see in RPGs. What do you feel like is the most helpful roadmap that we have currently in the scene? Is it Lotusinhand’s boot camp, or anything else that comes to mind, or is it just not in place yet?

PM:
I think it’s not in place yet, but I think there are phenomenal things. I think the best skill tree we have currently is Lotusinhand; I’ll give them credit for online library with free access through YouTube. They win that hands-down. I think theirs is the best in that category. I think SQUAREUP has the best community for beginners with their Skool course that’s going on right now that costs $5 a month, where you get access to jams and office hours with them. There’s 130 members of that community, I think, where people can post ideas, get access to all the SQUAREUP tutorials that are labeled level 0 through 10. They can ask questions, things like that. I think SQUAREUP wins for that. I still think there’s a lot to discover in that early age. But those are the people I would give credit to right now: SQUAREUP and Lotusinhand for different sides of it. I think between those two resources, that’s a pretty good place for beginners to begin at.

WSLT:
Awesome. So when we’re talking about these modern beginner moves — Andrew Avila and I call them ‘gateway moves’ —which moves do you think succeed as gateways and which of them secretly fail?

PM:
Mm, fun.

We mentioned that a table spread and Angel have an immediate effect and they’re cool. Like, immediately showing somebody Angel and being, like, “you can do that now” is like an immediate click.

Now, I do think there is a danger in moves that are too self-working and only learning those at first, because you lack some of the parts that are necessary for cardistry, which is the desire for a little bit of dexterousness, like really working on something. Kyle and I have debated for long periods of time: when do you teach someone the Charlier Cut? Because I still think the answer is that the Charlier Cut works early on. I just don’t think it’s the first three or four moves you show people or teach people.

When it comes to other great gateway moves, I think there’s a lot to discover with table moves. Jack Trathen and I have had some fun calls about doing table sequences of balancing a pack on the end of a table and dropping another packet from above. So it hits the lower packet, that flips over, and you catch that in your hand, and now you’re teaching people packet management without the risk of dropping cards everywhere. You get to sit down and work on it. I think table moves have a lot of gateway potential.

And then I do think the Charlier Cut makes its way in there. Because I do think the Charlier Cut is a proper, “this is tough” kind of move, but I’ve seen enough true beginners get the Charlier Cut down in 30 minutes. Not well, but that’s also why I think the Charlier Cut is nice because you can teach people why ‘steez’ (style + ease) matters.

I think people mess up immediately after the Charlier Cut. I’ve seen people try to teach people the One-Handed Revolution right after the Charlier Cut and that’s insane to me. Sure, it feels natural. You’re like, “yeah, you just add a spin now”. But it’s not just adding a spin. You’re adding in a level of dexterity that people just do not have yet. It feels like a crazy jump for being such a small thing.

Then there’s fans. I think that the thumb fan is actually a great place to go for people because you’re teaching them the differences of how where they hold their thumb affects how it looks. And you can really position a deck in someone’s hand, or even you could hold it and they can spread them out or vice versa. Alejandro’s Polland Fan is a great gateway.

I designed Angel Roll to be a gateway. Myself and Carter are actually spending some time right now working on designing more gateway moves. Because I think it is under-explored. It’s like, the concept is there. I’ve made one, but I want to spend more time making more and see, did I get lucky or did I actually hit a concept that works well?

So in the process of seeing how replicable that is, that’s kind of the fun we’re in — that testing phase with this concept, almost.

WSLT:
Over some voice memos that you sent me a while ago, you mentioned something about “designing moves that teach mechanics intuitively.” And I thought that was really interesting. Can you expand more on that?

PM:
Yeah, I think it’s like, things that your hand naturally wants to do. For example, hands want to expand. So how are we designing moves that like focus less on doing a funky hand position? What is it about spreading your hands that is intuitive? How are we designing moves that have maybe a spread element like that in them, because that’s intuitive of holding something and spreading forward?

We just need to think about movements of people who haven’t trained with cardistry. When most people grab a deck of cards, they don’t immediately go into dealer’s grip. But we assume they do, or understand that this is the best place to go. A lot of times when people hold cards, it’s really aggressive. So maybe it’s thinking about what can be done from that position that makes sense.

So I think it’s challenging ourselves to think back to what it felt like before we knew how to hold a deck of cards when creating these moves, which is tricky. And something I was even doing when I was creating Angel Roll is I was first trying to teach myself to do it with my non-dominant hand.

WSLT:
Right, right, right.

PM:
That’s a good test of like, how does it feel immediately when I try to do this in the opposite hand? Does it feel almost the same or does it feel nicer in this hand? Like, does it feel like I’m really having to work hard to make this work? And I think that’s a fun skill we could be thinking about.

Now the damage is do you then all of sudden accidentally make your non-dominant head so dextrous that you’re blind to how hard and easy something is? That’s its own thing we’ll have to worry about.

WSLT:
Right. And it also has me thinking, I wonder how many people we’ve ruined with teaching them cardistry the right-handed way when they might actually be left-handed people.

PM:
So, I’m a fascinating example of this: I am a right-handed person and I do cardistry left-handed. And it’s because I was watching tutorials and I was mirroring. So I was watching Jay Sankey magic tutorials and it was like, “hold the deck, bring your hand over”. And I just was mirroring that. And then finally, like a year in, they were like, “now pick the deck up with your left hand.” And I was like, “What? Left? Who said anything about holding the deck in your left hand?” And so I naturally learned the opposite way that I should have technically.

I think we have it in our brains that you either do cardistry right-handed or left-handed. I honestly think that’s a flawed system. You don’t call goofy or regular in skateboarding ‘right-handed’ or ‘left-handed’. It’s not like, “are you right-handed? You must push on a skateboard with your right foot.” You just go, what feels natural?

WSLT:
What would come into play when designing an ideal beginner/gateway move?

PM:
The thing that my brain immediately jumps to is removing as much risk for embarrassing failure as possible. I think removing the possibility for a 54-card pickup on the ground is ideal. That’s where my brain first goes, whether you’re focusing on a single card or whether you’re using a table. I want a beginner to feel in control in the same way that we feel in control when we’re doing a larger packet cut, or at least getting them as close to feeling in control. And I think that plays with thinking about what natural hand movement is before you pick up a deck of cards.

I just want people to feel like they’re in control early on because what they’re doing is difficult and unnatural. So if I can remove as many elements that are unnecessarily adding strain or discomfort, discomfort, I feel like that’s an obvious goal to have.

WSLT:
Do you have any remaining or closing thoughts about modern beginner moves that you’d like to share?

PM:
People should just make them. People should figure out what I mean when I say that. I’m in the process of figuring out what I mean when I say that, but… I think too often people wait for a thought to be perfectly formulated and perfect before they preach it. I’m a big fan of people’s half-baked thoughts. I love hearing where creative and talented people are at with something and I don’t think this is something that I feel like is extremely unique to me.

I know other people have expressed the same concept. This is not entirely me inventing something, but it’s definitely a topic that I think is really fun. And I would love to give it more vocabulary and flesh it out. And I would encourage people to do the same. And if people end up with better theories than mine, perfect. Then we’ve got better modern beginner cardistry. And at the end of the day, that’s what matters most of all is just, more of us should be thinking about it. That’s my big thing. I would love more people to go, what does that mean to them? And start thinking about it and start creating it. And maybe it’s not the flashiest thing, but I do think there’s something really special that I’m seeing more from people in the community. And I think it’s people who are getting a little bit older, people even my age.

I’m 26. There’s a large gaggle of us who started cardistry when we were 13 to 16 and grew up in this hype, ‘cool' era through high school into college. And now a lot of us are looking at where do we fit into the community? And a lot of us are reflecting on the fact that we got into it young. How did we get into it? What can we do to further improve this field other than just creating brands and creating decks of cards and creating cool solo videos?

And so I’m seeing more people want to put attention on that beginner aspect. And that makes me really happy and excited because it feels like a lot of people wanting to make this community last longer and grow beyond just being the coolest and best person at it, which I think is a necessary thing for every community that is successful is it’s not just everybody rushing to the top. There are plenty of people who are super content with just building out the foundation of it all.

Kenneth gave a phenomenal talk at the Portland Cardistry-Con. He opened the entire Cardistry-Con with a presentation that was like, “you do not need to be the best to enjoy Cardistry.” It was all about like, “Hey guys, it’s okay to just enjoy doing this. It’s like, I know we’re all here to see the hypest videos. It’s okay to just feel like we’re fine and decent, and we’ll have a fun time doing that. It’s important someone tells you that’s okay.”

And I see that sentiment coming back more and more recently as people are just like, “I’m kind of burned out with creating moves, but I don’t want to leave this community. What can I do?” And I’m so excited to see where those people put their energy.

About the interviewee, Parker Mitchell:

Parker Mitchell is the creator of building blocks, is based in the East Coast of the USA, and has been a cardist for 14 years.

He can be found @parkermmmm on Instagram, and @card.worm on TikTok.

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(Beginner) Ask Not What Cardistry Can Do For You, But What You Can Do For Cardistry

I would never claim that I have or ever will reach the heights that Noel Heath, Patrick Varnavas, Tobias Levin, and other heroes from the cardistry scene have. This is something many others have long come to terms with, but I constantly see newcomers with this mentality for greatness. Becoming a better person and working on your craft is great. When it spills into what we get or deserve from cardistry, however, then there is a problem.

Newcomers to cardistry constantly come into the scene and work (from their perception) very hard without anything to show for it. I’ve personally seen this burnout happen time and time again because most of the listeners from my old podcast (Cardistrytalk) fit the beginner demographic. I used to think the same way and viewed creating moves as a competition, something to prove that I was a better cardist — to get higher up in an unseen hierarchy. When creating with the intentions of getting something back from others, I was miserable. “Hustle” culture has infiltrated our lives so much that it has even spilled into our hobbies.

Questions like how do I get more decks, likes, and respect have become the focus. I want to pose a different philosophy to newcomers. To show the benefits that come from a mindset of how much I can give instead of how much I can get. The more we give to cardistry or anything in life, the more we usually get back. I’ve given 100s of hours to creating and running Cardistrytalk, and in return have made numerous lifetime friendships. There were moments when I felt Cardistrytalk was a waste of time, but now I view it as one of the best things I’ve done with my time. I spent thousands of dollars to go to 3 Cardistry-Cons and, in return, have received memories, travel stories, and new perspectives. Cardistry is so new and small that there are so many ways to give, and it is honestly shocking. Just off the top of my head, we lack news shows, memes, essay videos, history preservation, biographies, in-person classes, and much more. Find an area to give, and you will usually find much more happiness and satisfaction because you are loving the process and not the momentary results.

(Intermediate) Steal, Steal, Steal

Mark Twain has a quote that I love:

“There is no such thing as a new idea. It is impossible. We simply take a lot of old ideas and put them into a sort of mental kaleidoscope.”

The notion that new ideas don’t exist is not a new concept, but it is an exciting one. We don’t have to feel the pressure of creating something new because it has already been done. We just have the privilege to play around with what was left behind. I’ve seen the pressures of creating something new burn out and destroy cardists. My recommendation is to realize that your goal shouldn’t be to create something new, but instead to make something your own. So look at what’s been done by cardistry legends or up-and-comers. For example, one of my favorite cardists at the moment is luke.mcn. He is constantly innovating the aerial and stunt move space. He has posted a move using his cap as a perch to do a foot stall.

This was really fun to me because of its uncommon integration with a hat. The slow-mo on the swing cuts on the end is also hilarious. I knew I could easily adapt it into a card in a fan. So after seeing it during my lunch at work, I went home and immediately filmed my take. Without having to see if I could do it myself, I already knew and set up the camera without having done it before, and got it on my third take.

Seeing what your favorite cardists have done or are doing can be a great inspiration, but also keep your eyes and ears open to everything because you never know where an idea that hasn’t been viewed through the cardistry lens is. I have fallen in love with @jacob_acrobat, an acrobat, juggler, and all-around chill guy from Canada. I encourage you to look at his posts because im sure you’ll find something worthwhile. One of my best-received posts, featured below, was just a straight-up theft from one of his knife stunts.

This was another idea that I knew I could easily adapt to a card in a fan by using 2 decks and concealing one fan in my pants. Once again, without having done it yet, I filmed it the next day.

I could continue with more examples, but I think this gets across the point. In the process of adding more and more ideas from different sources into our kaleidoscopes, it becomes easier to have a result that feels new to others.

(Expert) Love Your Move’s History

My most recent discovery around cardistry is how important it is to love moves; to understand why they work and how; where the move came from and who made it. Every detail you can obtain is important. My favorite move of all time is the Card In Fan, to no one’s surprise. It is a move that is quick, flashy, and can be consistent if you practice. Despite being my favorite move, I knew very little of its origins or variations until recently. Information on moves are shockingly scarce, and it should be everyone’s job to preserve this info. Until recently, I didn’t know the exact details, but Andrei Jikh posted a video on Christmas 2007 showcasing the move and variations. I had many sources saying that they thought Andrei Jikh first brought the move to life, but didn’t have evidence until recently.

Before I knew the origins of the move, I searched for any variations I could find with an obsession. I searched far and wide across the vast worldwide web and have since compiled around 50 variations on the move from 2007 until now.

This has provided me with a base of knowledge to know what has been done and what has not. One particularly late night while looking at videos, I found Nikita Yatsik had already posted a video doing a Card In Fan using an invisible thread, and Aviv doing a Backdrop to Card In Fan. Both of these were variations I thought I’d created. While devastating at the time, it showed me I was on the right path. If you’d want to be in the cardistry headspace of anyone, it would be them! With all the knowledge I have gathered, I have created the space for me to create variations freely and constantly. At this point I have contributed around 10 variations to the Card In Fan scene and hope to one day be considered the cardist who has the most variations of the move.

The reason I bring all of this up to the experts of cardistry is to present the idea of loving your own move in the way that I love the Card In Fan. The best of this field are making art and performing feats with cards that have never been done before. We owe it to ourselves and future generations to recognize the significance of this. Many hobbies started before the internet, when information was hard to preserve and spread. Chess is over 1500 years old, and I think any respectable chess player would love to hear about how it was made and the early tactics of the game. With modern technology, it is much easier to preserve and spread this type of info. I want more creators to not only share the how, why, and when they created a move, but also to do it excitedly because other hobbies were not granted the ability to do this, and because what we are doing is impressive.

Final Thoughts

I’m not much of a writer usually, so I want to quickly thank Kevin for having me on and helping me with the process. Kevin was on the 7th episode of Cardistrytalk back when I had no following or notoriety, and I remember being starstruck at the time. His interview and Sean Oulashin’s made me feel like I had made it. I think he is a perfect example of giving to the community because my skills at the time did not deserve a top-level interviewee. I’ve been in the community for a while now and hope that my insights can help others avoid some of the traps I fell into, and inspire others to be more creative or care more about their hobby.

About the author, Caleb Smith:

Hiya, I am Caleb Smith. You may know me from my old podcast CardistryTalk or my Card In Fan Friday challenge series. I perform a new card in fan variation or idea every week on Instagram and Tiktok for this challenge. This article actually marks ½ a year of weekly posts. It will be difficult to hit the last ½ year, but I’m excited for the challenge!

When not making new card in fan variations, I like to stay active playing soccer or with a yoga session. After being active, I’ll usually go to the sauna for a bit to relax and recover. I also enjoy thrifting, reading, and movies when at home, with a special interest in Stephen King and Star Wars. Im based out of Cincinnati, Ohio, and would love to jam with anyone passing through the motherland of playing cards.

If you enjoyed my article, feel free to chat or see what I do next @CalebsCardistry!

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Photo courtesy of @cardistryworld.official

About a year ago, Cardistry-Con Champion and creator of MockingGod, Duy Nguyen, contacted me about a secret project that he and a few others had been cooking up.

As it turns out, he, Daniel Lin, Shivraj Morzaria, and Gaolock had been floating around the idea of doing their own Asian cardistry convention. Duy mentioned that because I was one of the organizers of Cardistry-Con 2016 in Berlin, which was Duy’s, Daniel’s, and Shiv’s first con, they wanted my help with organizing this one in order to make it the best possible event it could be. I, of course, happily and wholeheartedly agreed to come on board. After all, these were all friends that I respected and admired, and the thought that they would be pouring their efforts into recreating for other cardists what they experienced first-hand in Germany a decade ago was too good of a story for me not to want to be a part of it.

What goes around comes around

Duy told me that two things that he and the others missed about the 2016 con was 1) the Cardistry-Con Championship and 2) the House of Cardistry.

In the first case, the competition created hype and buildup leading up to the event in July of 2016. With the prizes including $1000 in cash, a promise of having the winner’s own custom deck printed with Carta Mundi, and a round-trip plane ticket to the event itself, it’s safe to say that no one was holding back when it came to letting loose that year. Each round delivered fiercely iconic videos, and led ticket-holders to question: who would be the two finalists that they’d be meeting at the con that summer?

In the latter instance, the House of Cardistry was sizing up to be a replay of one of the wildest implements of 2015’s Brooklyn con: a singular place where all the headliners of the event would be staying and jamming together that weekend. Suffice it to say, lightning struck twice, and as you can tell from the video below, a fun time was had by all:

So when it came to this theoretical Asia cardistry convention, we knew that we had to feature at least those two elements: the competition tie-in and a place where everyone could stay together and jam in the hours peripheral to the event itself.

After numerous Discord calls, the team and I serendipitously stumbled across the perfect name for the competition: the Cardistry World Cup. And thus, by association, we decided to call the event…

Cardistry World.

The World Tour

Preparation for this year’s event began in earnest in about March of 2025, when Shivraj, Daniel, and I each flew to Hanoi to meet up with the Vietnamese side of the CW team.

I was only there for about 3 days all in all, but from revisiting my photo album, I recall there being a lot of jamming, going out to eat delicious (and cheap!) food, filming tutorials, as well as scouting for locations where we could host the event.

Looking back, my most lasting impression from the visit was that the good-natured heart of cardistry — not just the playing card market, but the actual practice and proliferation of the art form itself — was still alive in these enthusiasts across the globe, and that reignited a spark in me that had laid dormant for quite some time. It was refreshing to geek out with other people about moves, to play Showoff with them, and to recount stories from days of cardistry yore (and more).

Shortly after I got back, the team had cut together this promotional video, and that’s when the event started to feel real:

Go time

Flash forward a year, and the big weekend was upon us: after thousands of messages exchanged on Instagram DMs and many a Discord meeting, all the elements had been set in place, including:

• Announcing the headliners and sponsors

• Planning and executing the Cardistry World Cup all the way to the finals

• Printing the CW deck

• Designing and printing the posters, name tags, and goodie bags for the event

• Finalizing the schedule for all 3 days of the con

• Ensuring that all full-experience ticket holders got checked into their hotels accordingly

Photo courtesy of @yangcardistry

As part of the BTS crew, I can assure you that this was no easy task. As Daniel would later say, “[I] have never been more tired or fulfilled”.

(Incidentally, not enough praise can be heaped upon our graphic designer Ijah, who is not only incredibly skilled, but also profoundly kind, witty, and a lightning-fast worker at that. I remember complimenting him on how everything turned out at the con, and yet he said he still felt like he could have done more. A true hero in every sense of the word.)

So with Tien as our host, we kicked off the event, and that’s when I remembered…

Cardistry in person is FUN

Photo courtesy of @ethanbtlr

Mini-games. Move workshops. Live battles. Screenings with a raucous crowd. And jamming. Did I mention jamming?

By far the standout moment of the con for me was watching the Cardistry Showdown, where 15 cardists duked it out in a bracketed elimination-style tournament until only two teams remained to face each other in a final battle. And what a story it was: Benji Tran and Lucas Brown both ended up tying against Samuel Pratt, causing the audience to root for one last round between the two… and they each went pedal-to-the-metal in the end, with Spratt emerging as the decided victor. Instagram won’t let me embed stuff anymore, but you can see snippets of Spratt’s performance here.

Photo courtesy of @meow_190203

All in all, there’s just something about interacting with other cardists in person, within the framework of a well-structured event that brings out the best in cardistry. The energy is just so creative and good-spirited, and even in moments where I was going out for meals with other cardists and we weren’t talking cards at all, I still thought to myself, “man… this is what cardistry is all about.”

At the World’s end

I ended up having to go back home early, but those three and a half days in Hanoi were enough to rejuvenate my passion for cardistry and the community for the time being.

Off the top of my head, I can fondly recall:

• Watching Shiv try chicken wings and biting into the bones… multiple times

• Witnessing Tien down a can of Asian Red Bull first thing in the morning, every day

• Being allowed to see Cam’s highly offensive ‘secret deck’

• Getting to re-unite with The Virts onstage as part of the Saturday Q&A

• Speaking broken, vulgar Mandarin with Shuaicheng and Kevin Wu

• The crowd chanting “U-S-A! U-S-A!” once the CWC results were announced

• Hunting for souvenirs at 9 o’clock at night with Brandon, giving up, and then ordering bubble tea instead

• Hosting a diabolical game of Showoff live on stage, where every participant brought their A-game

• Laughing my ass off at Benji and Lucas’s Cardistry Showdown segments

• Losing my voice from talking and laughing so hard (and the weather, probably)

All these memories and more serve to remind me that it really is amazing how a little pile of paper in your hands can unite you with like-minded weirdos from every corner of the planet.

I’m proud to say that Cardistry World was a smashing success in every way that mattered. And while I don’t think the next one will be taking place anytime soon, the next time it does…

I’ll see you there.

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I. Introduction

What exactly is cardistry? This question has challenged cardists throughout history, across cultures and within the community. The answer allows a variety of interpretations depending on the individual’s perspective. In the following essay, I will present my answer in a logical and constructive manner.

Just a note: parts of this essay may prove abstract and intricate, so it might help to refer to the diagrams as you read.

II. Understanding Human Consciousness

To begin with, I define cardistry as the art form of symbolising human aesthetic consciousness within time and space through cards. That is because each cardistry move shows the two things at the same time:

• Temporality (T): because of the manipulation of cards by human hands

• Spatiality (S): because of the physical existence of cards

In short, cardistry is about representing the beauty of cards in T and S.

To understand that more deeply, we need to think more about human consciousness — how we experience T and S. I propose describing it with two new terms:

• Dispersion (D): a spread-out or extended state of consciousness

• Concentration (Cc): a focused or narrowed state of consciousness

Also, we could think of consciousness as having content (T and S) and form (D and Cc). Figure 1 shows this perspective.

From these ideas, we can expect four basic kinds of consciousness (Fig. 2):

• Continuity (Ct): T×D, moving on over time

• Momentariness (M): T×Cc, centred on a single moment

• Expansion (E): S×D, spreading across space

• Focality (F): S×Cc, focused at a single spot

A further explanation regarding Ct might be necessary. If we assume T in its simplest form — past, present and future — the consciousness of an object originates from the present. It, then, disperses to reach the past and future, which are not immediately before us, and links the past, present and future. That is how Ct arises within our consciousness.

III. Four Core Concepts in Cardistry

Now that we have broken down our consciousness, let us apply it to cardistry. Each kind of consciousness (Ct, M, E and F) could be represented through how we move cards. I use both familiar and new terms to describe these states:

• Flow: Ct (T×D), fluid movement unfolding over T

• Hit: M (T×Cc), sharp movement executed instantly at a moment in T

• Flare: E (S×D), expansive motion using open S

• Point: F (S×Cc), precise motion converging into one spot in S

You likely already know what Flow and Flare refer to. The term Hit comes from dance, where it means a momentary force of muscle. The idea of Point originates in the French ballet term ‘Pointe’, for the toe-standing position where all balance concentrates at a single precise spot.

Furthermore, ‘Flood/Blast/Glare/Prick’ are defined as the states where each of ‘Flow/Hit/Flare/Point’ becomes excessive in D or Cc (conscious form), or turns negative. Figure 3 shows this diagram.

For instance:

• Pirouette concentrates in both T and S — it has Hit and Point.

• Padiddle disperses in T but concentrates in S — it has Flow and Point.

Here is an important point: unlike music (which is mostly temporal) or sculpture (which is mostly spatial), cardistry always involves both T and S; a state symbolising only T implies the cards do not exist as physical objects, while only S suggests human hands do not manipulate the cards.

Additionally, the qualities which Hit (T×Cc) and Point (S×Cc) embody seem to have been mentioned less frequently in this field, compared to Flow (T×D) and Flare (S×D). This relative rarity might be because Cc often comes into existence in forms that need more subtle attention or less complex techniques, on account of its very nature.

Thus, cardists practice and create moves day and night to embody the four types of consciousness beautifully through cards.

IV. Symbolized Consciousness in Cardistry

In cardistry, the aesthetic consciousness of T and S is represented simultaneously through the cards. Here, I define the combination of T and S by cards as ‘Touch’. Each Touch combines one T element (Flow/Hit) with one S element (Flare/Point). This would give us four categories of Touch (Fig. 4).

First, we could assume Dual-Type Touch, which takes the form D×D or Cc×Cc.

• Maximum Touch: Flow×Flare, dispersing in both T and S – e.g. Barolo 2

• Minimum Touch: Hit×Point, concentrated in both T and S – e.g. Pirouette

Second, we could propose Cross-Type Touch, which has a hybrid form of one D and one C element (D×C).

• Tracing Touch: Flow×Point, dispersing in T but concentrated in S – e.g. Bullet

• Intuitive Touch: Hit×Flare, concentrated in T but dispersing in S – e.g. so-called ‘display’ scenes

When people say, ‘Your Flow/Hit is great!’, they are commenting on the T aspect in your Touch.

Significantly, a single move can involve more than one Touch.

• Sybil Cut: moving the second packet from the opener requires a Maximum Touch (Flow×Flare), but the last display part needs an Intuitive Touch (Hit×Flare).

• Skater Cut (with Kick Flip): the flip part requires a Minimum Touch (Hit × Point), while the subsequent cut part needs a Maximum Touch (Flow×Flare).

Thus, moves can shift among Touch types in their performance process.

V. Conclusion

Each cardist will interpret these ideas differently. If asked to define these qualities — T/S/D/Cc or Ct/M/E/F — in distinct words, I could not do it perfectly. They are abstract qualities within the mind. To demonstrate them concretely, one must perform a specific move, saying, ‘For me, -ity/-ion/-ness has meaning like this’.

The same goes for Touch; each move’s Touch depends on how you feel it. For instance, about Mantra, opinions might split — some see it as a flowing, unified piece (Maximum Touch = Flow×Flare), while others view it as a series of Hits (Intuitive Touch = Hit×Flare), in step with the signature movement of a single card.

There is no single ‘correct’ Touch for each move. The examples I gave above are just my interpretations. What matters is that these concepts help us think about what we are symbolising through our handling of cards.

In the end, these are just one logical framework — not a complete explanation of everything in cardistry. Still, at least it is an evident and unquestionable fact that such consciousness exists within us, and that cardistry attempts to symbolise it through cards. When we perform, all we have to do is represent the Touch we feel necessary in the way that feels right to ourselves.

If this essay helps you enhance your move creation, performance and Touch — that is the real success for me.

Thank you for reading!

About the author, Soma Kinoshita:

Soma Kinoshita (also known as Soki) is a cardist based in Tokyo. He has been doing cardistry since 2017. He majors in literature at university, with a particular interest in criticism, and is presently attempting to connect it with cardistry. You can find him on Instagram @so_ki274289.

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“Let’s say your favorite flourishers are Daren Yeow, Aviv Moraly, and Noel Heath. Take these three styles and combine them. You will later become a stylistic combination of those three individuals.” - Patrick Varnavas

This quote arguably shaped an entire generation of cardists, many of whom went on to become the faces of today’s cardistry community. Developing a personal style is a milestone worth celebrating—it marks the moment a cardist separates themself from their peers and establishes a distinct design language in the way they create and perform their own moves. But once that style is formed, what comes next? In this article, I want to explore how a cardist can continue to refine their personal style, the challenges that arise in doing so, and how we might rethink what it truly means to have a style in the community.

Further Exploring and Concentrating on Personal Style:

Once you’ve established a style, the next step is pretty straightforward: just keep making moves. That means finding new mechanics you’re drawn to and working them into your own material. If you’re creative enough, you might even end up creating new mechanics altogether, which naturally pushes your style even further.

For many cardists, this phase comes easily. At some point, you no longer need to emulate the people you like because you already have a design language of your own. From there, it’s mostly about refining—making things cleaner, more consistent, and more confident over time.

That said, it’s also completely fine to keep leaning on Patrick’s “three cardist” idea and gradually add more influences over time— that’s what most cardists do. That’s also why many older cardistry videos end with long lists of cardist credits. Pulling inspiration from different cardists doesn’t weaken your style if they genuinely inspire you. If anything, it helps you grow faster, broaden your perspective, and reinforce what makes your cardistry unique to you. That said, I want to take this idea a step further to suggest that developing a style isn’t strictly about understanding what you like—it’s also worth taking note of how others perceive your style.

Style as Seen By Others:

Not long ago, a close friend of mine, Hans Lankamp, and I played a simple game. We each listed four cardists that inspire us, then tried to guess each other’s lists. When it came time for Hans to guess mine, he named Lars Mayrand, Samuel Pratt, Nikolaj Honoré, and Patrick Varnavas.

Out of those four, he got one right.

My actual list was James Chesmore, Henrik Forberg, Tobias Levin, and Patrick Varnavas. Even though only one name overlapped, the differences were what I had found the most interesting. We tend to think of our influences as intentional choices, but others often see our cardistry more abstractly, drawing connections to styles we may not be consciously aware of.

It’s helpful to ask other people how they read your cardistry. Chances are, they’ll notice patterns and influences you’ve overlooked. In my case, it was especially meaningful because I already admired all of the cardists Hans mentioned. Seeing those connections from an outside perspective gave me new angles to explore and more reasons to go through their original work, all while continuing to develop my own style even further.

A Change of Approach in Cardistry:

At some point, I think every cardist reaches a moment where the way they’ve been doing cardistry becomes ineffective in giving the moves that they want. Whether it’s boredom, burnout, or simply outgrowing an old approach, you’re suddenly faced with a choice: keep doing things the same way, or—more controversially—move toward a different style altogether. This is one of the more challenging aspects of style to discuss. It doesn’t happen often, and when it does, the shift can be so drastic that it invites strong reactions. Both the cardist and the people watching them can feel like something has been lost, or that the cardist has stepped away from the identity they built within the community. I want to explore why changing styles can actually be a good thing and how moments like this can prompt us to reconsider what a cardist’s style truly represents.

An Assessment of Duy’s Cardistry Style:

A primary example of a cardist changing their style within the community is Duy Nguyen. Although he is now best known for intricate multicard isolations, which he dubbed card matrix, he was previously recognized for two-handed packet cuts with lots of corner spins. He was so proficient at creating corner spinning moves that a recurring joke at the time was his sarcastic remark that a move “didn’t have enough spin(s).” While his shift toward isolation routines was widely seen as refreshing back then, I personally found it disappointing, as it signaled that we likely wouldn’t see much more of his two-handed packet cuts—something that caused my interest in his cardistry to wane.

A Change In Perspective:

As of recently, in my own journey within cardistry, I’ve been experimenting with other genres such as fans, structures, and card twirls—this exploration proved to be eye-opening for me.

When I was exploring these different genres, I discovered that I could apply principles from them to my own two-handed cuts in ways I would not have considered otherwise. For instance, while relearning and creating my own card twirls, I realized that what my cardistry had been lacking was performance. Although my execution had always been technically solid, my moves often relied more on clean mechanics than on intentional presentation. Card twirling, however, does not allow for that kind of reliance; strong mechanics alone are not enough. To make the twirls engaging, I had to become a better performer.

This realization made me more conscious of how I present my moves overall, even in areas like packet cuts, where performance is not as problematic for me. As a result, my understanding of how to approach style has broadened significantly.

We’ve Never Changed Styles— Only Expanded Upon It:

I want to propose the idea that the way we see style in the community is not this straight and narrow path that we see it as, but rather as a large skill tree, like the ones you’d see in Borderlands or Skyrim. Each genre of cardistry acts as its own branch, and as we unlock new skills, those branches start to affect one another. Even when we’re not aware of it, what we learn in one area ends up shaping how we approach everything else.

A Reassessment of Duy’s Cardistry Style:

To bring this back to Duy’s cardistry, part of why I initially found his transition from packet cutting to isolations so polarizing was due to how different those two genres appear on the surface. After reflecting on my own experience exploring other cardistry genres, I now recognize that my earlier analysis of Duy’s work was short-sighted. Rather than focusing primarily on the differences between his two-handed packet cuts and his isolation routines, I should have been paying closer attention to the underlying similarities that connect them within the larger context of his style.

When Duy’s packet cuts and isolations are viewed together, his style appears far more cohesive than I gave him credit for. His two-handed cuts are heavily defined by corner spins, and when seen through that lens, his isolation routines begin to make more sense—they function, in many ways, as an extension of the same corner spining ideas, simply expressed through isolations. To put it simply, Duy’s thinking shifted from “this packet cut needs more spin(s)” to “this isolation needs more spin(s),” a transition that remains fully consistent with his personal style.

In addition, I’d argue that Duy’s deep understanding of corner spins from packet cuts directly informs the way his isolations function. That influence carries over in a way that makes his isolation work distinctly his own, rather than a departure from his earlier style.

A Further Explanation of Patrick’s Quote:

When we first begin developing our own style in cardistry, it’s easy to fall into the misconception that we have to limit ourselves to only a few specific genres. As a beginner, this makes sense, as this was an easier way to establish a clear design language quickly, which allows other cardists to recognize our work. However, once that style is established, it can begin to feel limiting to what we can do.

When you reexamine Patrick’s quote, he mentions Daren Yeow and Noel Heath—two cardists who sit on opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of both their approach to cardistry and the genres they specialize in—yet he suggests that if you appreciate both of their styles, you should feel free to combine them. This shows that your favorite cardists or genre of interest do not need to be adjacent or closely related for your style to feel cohesive.

While it may initially feel jarring to include an isolation routine alongside a moveset that focuses primarily on packet cuts, it is completely valid as long as those choices align with your personal taste. As long as you bring your own unique perspective to these different aspects of cardistry, your style will remain cohesive in spite of these contrasting interests.

Jack’s Genre Change Assessment:

One notable example of a cardist shifting genres successfully is Jack Trathen, co-founder of Cardistry Core. When I asked people to name a cardist who has significantly changed their style, it’s surprising that his name rarely comes up. In 2025, his work moved from complex two-handed packet cuts toward more structure-based moves. While a few people in my close circle noticed this shift, I think there’s a clear reason why it goes unnoticed.

When comparing Jack to other structure-focused cardists, such as Andrew Avila and Trevor Aguilar, it becomes obvious that his background in two-handed packet cuts still heavily influences his structure work. Structure moves often prioritize a large visual payoff, which can lead to openers and closers feeling less important. Jack, however, treats structure moves more like composed routines than a direct path to a climax.

His structure moves carry the same sense of rhythm and energy found in his packet cuts. From the explosive pacing of Eurostep to the subtle pinky flick at the end of Holy Grail, these small, hyper-stylized actions are what make his structure moves stand out—especially when compared to cardists who specialize in the genre.

This is also why Jack’s shift in style doesn’t feel as drastic as it actually is. Rather than abandoning his earlier approach, he presents structure cuts with the pacing, framing, and intent of a two-handed packet cut. As a result, his work feels consistent with his overall design language, even as the genre itself changes.

Pushing Towards An All-Rounder Mindset:

In the grand scheme of this article, I could have reframed this discussion to encourage cardists to adopt a more generalist approach to cardistry. However, many of the ideas surrounding style naturally overlap with that concept already. Becoming more of a generalist is not simply about collecting moves from different genres for the sake of diversifying one’s move portfolio; it is about understanding how and why those genres work, as well as seeing if those respective genres would fit within your own style.

Even if you don’t plan on including these genres in your overall moveset, just learning about performance through card twirling, shape construction through structure moves, or the physical properties of a deck through fans can each offer a broader perspective on how to expand your own cardistry style.

Conclusion:

Continuing the discovery of one’s style does not mean abandoning what you already like or what you are known for. It can mean refining that focus just as much as it can mean stepping outside of it.

By either doubling down on what resonates or intentionally exploring unfamiliar genres, cardists open themselves up to deeper connections between skills that initially seem unrelated.

In doing so, style becomes less about staying within fixed boundaries and more about understanding how those boundaries can expand—allowing your own style to evolve without feeling like your identity will get lost.

So if you find yourself wanting to explore isolations, fans, etc, go for it. Who knows—you might weave these principles into your moves, make them part of your own repertoire, or even switch genres entirely. I guarantee that you will learn something new along the way, which will further enrich your personal style.

About the author, David Lam:

Hi, my name is David Lam and I am a cardist from New Jersey. Catch me jamming on any of the current cardistry discords sometimes. Otherwise, my IG is @mercq. Thank you for reading.

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Here you are again, about to post another IG reel debuting that new move you spent the last two and a half weeks working on. Yet you’re stalling. Deleting and restarting the post over and over again. Hoping that this time you’ll catch the vibe and be able to find the perfect song to go along with that clip you spent the last 20 minutes trying to film.

Should I use that trending rap audio or that obscure track I really love but that might make me come off as a weirdo? Or maybe I should just skip the music altogether? The sound of clapping packets and the rumbling of the washing machine could be a vibe, right?

If these are the thoughts that go through your head every time you go to make an IG post, you are not alone. Cardistry is a kinetic art form that relies on the elements of pattern recognition, novelty, surprise, and rhythm to be appreciated. As is music. A good backing track can only further emphasize what makes a move interesting in the first place. In other words, a well-curated audio experience can’t save bad cardistry, but it can definitely make great cardistry even better.

When Raw Audio Works Better Than Music

This is what I was asking myself a couple weeks ago. Should I even bother with music? At that time, most of my posts had no music at all. The sounds that came though my iPhone mic became the un-edited audio for pretty much all of my videos. Sometimes I was lucky to get ASMR-ish vibes with cards riffling and sliding against each other, while other times my oven would start beeping or my girl would be chatting away on the phone far off in the distance.

That’s when I decided to take to my trusty IG story poll to ask my audience: “Which do you like more? With music or raw audio (no music).” The poll was accompanied by two instances of the same cardistry clip, one with a carefully selected song and the other with just the raw audio. The results of the poll surprised me…

It looked like a majority of the votes preferred no music (70 votes versus 50 votes). Shocking, I know. I was always under the impression that when you have music it would be a more enjoyable watching experience because of the cross sensory stimulus between the kinetic cardistry and rhythm of the audio. But clearly this was not the whole story.

Many voters also sent me accompanying DMs to give more context for their choice. Those in favour of raw audio mentioned they liked the ASMR nature of the card sounds, and some even mentioned that they liked the silent moments. Interestingly, a handful of DMs made a more personal observation, mentioning that no music just suited my style specifically and that my cuts “sounded good.” If that isn’t a cross sensory compliment I don’t know what is.

The main takeaway I got from that group was if the audio sounds good, keep it as is. And when you have some not so great audio, use music as the bandaid to wash over the car alarm from across the street.

Music as Ambience

Between the two options of with or without music, I got a handful of nuanced perspectives that were on the fence. They liked the structure and synchronization of the music but also appreciated the rawness of keeping the original audio.

This made me realize there was a hidden third option which was a combination of both. Of course you could overlay a track and mix the original but this doesn’t always work. Instead, you could just play music in the background out loud WHILE you film the clip. Mind = blown. You would be impressed how well your smart phone’s mic can record ambient background music while also capturing the subtle slides and riffles of the cards.

The other awesome part about filming while playing music out loud is that you can really time the moves and adjust the cadence to match the music in real time. It adds so much more to the overall style and presentation. Often, you will find that different styles and BPMs will come through in your performance.

On a higher level, the vibe and energy of the music can change your internal state and inspire small stylistic moments that wouldn’t otherwise happen like a cheeky flair, an impromptu deck roll, a suspenseful pause, or even a perfectly timed TG deck flip. Careful with those TGs though, they can really scrap an otherwise perfect clip with an unexpected rogue card flying off… but that’s a topic for a different article.

Double Down on What Your Move Emphasizes

Over the last 15 years or so of posting cardistry, I have made some observations and recognised some patterns when it comes to the types of music used in cardistry content. The best way to leverage it is to be self aware of your own style and what you are trying to highlight in a given clip, video, or move.

When it comes to cardistry there are certain attributes in a move or combo that make it worthy of being considered interesting: novelty of the mechanics, attitude of performance, establishing and breaking patterns, build and release of tension, surprising moments, and overall visual satisfaction. A good performance video should capture at least one of these elements. The role of the music should be to emphasize one or more of those attributes.

Different genres have the ability to highlight different attributes. It is your role as the creative to select how you want your creation to be perceived.

Case Study: Matching a Track to Quentin’s “W”

Here is an example of the thought process. Let’s consider Quentin’s brilliant two handed cut called “W.”

This move has multiple moments of tension and release, a surprisingly satisfying display moment, and an excessively swaggy closer. What stands out to me the most and what I would emphasize about this move is the intentional building and releasing of tension and the amount of suspense it generates.

What I would be looking for in a song would be: something experimental-sounding to match the unique form, something with a break beat to lean into the suspenseful pauses, and maybe some deep, striking chords to accent the avant-garde style this move exudes. From that description alone I can imagine a dark UK jungle or garage beat. With a bit of online crate-digging (or ChatGPT) you can find a lot of options.

For the sake of this little case study, I plugged in the attribute description above into GPT and it gave me this wicked track called Stonekiller by Source Direct. Go give it a listen and tell me it ain’t a perfect match. It’s a clear W if I don’t say so myself.

To be honest, I kind of wish I gatekept this one for myself.

Closing Thoughts: Choose Music You Actually Like

Don’t just use a track because it’s trending or because it’s the first recommendation in the list. Don’t choose a song to be perceived as cool or on trend especially when that’s not the type of music you even listen to or like. And most importantly, don’t be afraid to be vulnerable with your music choice and go with something you think your viewers will think is “off-brand” for you.

My online profiles are like my public journals that document my journey. I post visuals I actually resonate with and like; therefore, I would suggest the same to you when selecting a song. You are a consumer of your own content, so do yourself a favour and use music that you genuinely like.

About the author, Tashfiq Alam:

Hey, I’m Tashfiq. Many of you may know me as Tash. I’m a seasoned cardist and a Decknique.net romantist. I’d describe my style as laid-back and rhythmic, driven by intentional movements that turn controlled chaos into something playful and unexpected.

Outside of cards, I’m a digital product designer who has worked with recognizable names like Microsoft and Samsung. I’m also an aspiring DJ obsessed with underground house and groovy techno.

If you enjoyed this article, you’ll probably like my other content too, so follow me @tashcuts 🙂

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“The ‘hands’ will never surpass the ‘eyes’. Unless you cultivate the ‘eyes’ to discern good from bad, you cannot hope to improve the ‘hands’ that create works of art. It’s a phrase that’s often used among creators, but it applies to all kinds of fields. Those with good ‘eyes’ will improve far more rapidly than those without.”

- Jujutsu Kaisen, S1E16

To be honest, I’d never thought I would create any cardistry move. My mindset in the beginning was that I’d be totally happy if I could perform some of my favorite moves very well, as there are already so many good moves out there. In fact, I did try creating moves early on and it was agony. I had no clue how to start and what to make - I was just blindly searching for ideas and I got nothing. I gave up right away, knowing that it was not going to work that way.

I started Cardistry in 2017, and spent nearly 3 years learning, practicing and perfecting other people’s moves. I’m so glad that I started my Cardistry journey this way and am still benefiting from this experience, although most of the time, “doing other people’s moves” gets looked down upon, as I was often told to have my own material. But, in my opinion, one should only start their creative journey once they are ready - in other words, when the eyes for cardistry are cultivated. One sign of that is you don’t need to ask anyone about the move you made - you should already have a good idea about how good the move is and all the flaws in it, and most importantly, how much you like that move.

I believe there are a few ways to do that, and “doing other people’s moves” is one of the best ways. But how?

The first thing is move selection.

Some would say to learn the classic ones or the good ones; others may say learn whichever move you like. Well, the fact is, you gotta do both. Sometimes people confuse what they like with what is good. Some would consider a move “bad” if they don’t like it.

I started by learning the most iconic moves from the most iconic cardists - in my time it was the Virts, the Danes and the Bucks. By start practicing these moves, I slowly realized all the elements that make a move good, including the theme, the mechanics, the flow, the structure, the framing, the timing, etc. Some of these concepts are pretty vague if you try to explain or understand them in plain language, yet they are crystal clear once you feel them in your hands.

On top of that, I scrolled through Instagram and YouTube, and I saved all the moves that caught my eye. As I went through more, it started to converge into a certain style. After that, I started to find my taste for cardistry. Then, by learning those moves, I realized how to achieve those styles in a practical way. BUT! Learning those moves was not easy simply because most of them didn’t have tutorials. And that brings us to the second point.

Learning the move from the performance

Back in the day some of the most searched queries were, “Where is the tutorial for Trigger?” or “Liquid Paper tutorial”. It shows how intimidating it is to learn a move without a tutorial, even if the move is as simple as Trigger, that only contains 2 packets and only 1 packet is moving.

Cardistry is not a magic trick - all you see if all you get, and there is nothing hidden (in most cases). Learning from the performance is difficult in the beginning. But once you have your first success, the second one becomes much easier and so on. Because now you know exactly what to look for. Also, if you seek advancement in Cardistry, you’ll need this skill at one point anyway, so that you can better understand and appreciate the moves.

The first move I successfully learned from the performance is Kashmir by Oliver Sogard, featured in JETPACKETS.

In the process of learning from the performance, my ability to understand cardistry moves is greatly enhanced. Before, I could only describe moves in vague terms like how it felt - now, I can see precisely how packets are being moved with all the finger placements and grip changes and even the wrist motion that creates the extra flow.

Now with the ability to unpack information from the performance, it’s time to move on!

Perfectionism, it’s all in the detail

Find a good move that you really like from the list and push yourself to the limit. I decided that I want to have a very, very good Squeeze. By watching many different performances of Squeeze I concluded that Daren’s Squeeze is the best, totally unmatchable. And I aimed for it. (Always aim high.) Then, I looked at my own Squeeze, although all the steps are correct, it looks like a completely different move from Daren’s.

Like learning from the performance, this time I edited my performance and Daren’s performance together, side by side, and adjusted them to be the same speed. Playing it frame-by-frame, I started to notice all the small differences. I tried to make small changes to my performance, record it, put it beside Daren’s and compare it again. It’s not just about what you do but how you do it! The angle of the movement, the range of motion, the hand arrangement - they all matter. It took me almost a year to reach the level that I like (still not Daren’s level). Then I tried to perfect more moves, and it took significantly shorter.

What’s amazing is that when I am trying to perfect someone else’s move, it feels like I’m having a deep cardistry conversation with them. I can see their approach to Cardistry, and I can see the creative decisions. Most importantly, it’s fun! Whenever there is a difference, it’s like I’m having a debate with these great minds in Cardistry. Most of the time I was schooled and did the move in their way, but occasionally I win. And that is how I figured out my own way to perform Mockingbird.

Ready to create!

In contrast to the beginning, after trying to perfect moves for long enough, ideas came to me, and I can’t help myself in bringing these ideas to fruition and I know exactly how to do it. My eyes for cardistry are cultivated, and it becomes much easier to take inspiration from others’ great moves. Since I’ve already known how a good move feels like, it’s only a matter of time for my hands to catch up. Somehow in this way, I can make the exact moves that I want very often. Most importantly, I can enjoy the fun of performing other’s great moves and creating my own moves. If I was burned out from one, I can switch to the other one. It’s like having two portable playgrounds and I’m only getting more and more passionate about Cardistry since day 1.

About the author, Jack Liu:

I'm Jack Liu, or @liuu.jjj on Instagram. Been doing and loving Cardistry for 8 years.

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Everything you do has two games: The outer game, and the inner game.

Cardistry is no different.

On the outside, the cards twirl, twist and tumble through your hands in a seemingly magical way. Packets break, combine, and intertwine. It’s a game we are all familiar with, the performance of our beautiful art form.

But under the surface of every cardist, a second game is being played. A mental game. The Inner Game.

The concept isn’t new, it was first established by W. Timothy Gallwey in his 1974 book titled The Inner Game of Tennis. And while the Inner Game was developed during Gallwey’s time as a tennis coach, everything he teaches in relation to tennis can be equally applied to cardistry.

Let me break down this game, and its relation to cardistry, into four lessons.

Lesson #1: Learn Through Observation

We underestimate our ability to learn simply through observation.

In fact, it’s the most natural way of learning. Long before language even existed, humans and other animals have learned through observation – a child learning to walk, a bird learning to fly, a lion cub learning from its mother to stalk prey.

Before you’ve begun to even practice the mechanics of a cardistry move, the learning process has already started. By simply watching the performance of a move, your hands begin to absorb the rhythm, the pacing, and the flow. You see how the cardist emphasizes a display or speeds up and slows down at certain points.

Once we have the mechanics down, only by observing a master perform the move can we fully develop an understanding of how to perform it. There are no verbal instructions for flow or style, it comes through simply watching.

Try this:

Next time you become comfortable with the mechanics of the move:

• Download or screen record a performance from its creator.

• Drop it in a video editor and repeat the clip 10-15 times (add music if you like)

• Simply observe – allow the mind to naturally learn the language of the move.

• Watch for as long as you can, without practicing, until you are simply itching to try again.

Lesson #2: Prepare the Mind

A subtle lesson that Gallwey describes is the ability to prepare the mind for mechanical movements.

Jumping into the science for a second (bear with me), mechanical movements happen when neural pathways within our brain send electrical signals through the nervous system to the muscles. When we decide to stand up, grab something, or perform a flourish, that decision activates specific neural pathways that tell our muscles what to do. Over time, as those same pathways are used repeatedly, the connections between neurons become stronger and more efficient. Eventually, the movement can happen with little conscious effort – what we call “muscle memory.”

However, sometimes we hit a bump in the road.

At a certain pain point in our backswing, as Gallwey might note, or a difficult transition within a flourish, our muscle memory hasn’t fully developed and conscious effort rushes in to force the movement to completion.

What was initially a subconscious flow has derailed into a conscious struggle.

To address this, Gallwey urges us to “mentally prepare” for that moment. Before you even reach that point, simply thinking about performing that motion ahead of time warms up those neural pathways, so that when they are called upon to fire, they’re primed and ready to go.

Try this:

Next time you’re having difficulty at a certain moment in a move:

• Before you even begin that move, think of that pain point you wish to improve.

• Hold the mechanics of that moment in your mind – what fingers are required, the flow that you wish to achieve, how it starts and how it ends.

• Observe yourself as you perform the move, imagining what motions your fingers will launch into when you reach that particular moment.

• When you eventually reach that point, fire your fingers into motion. Just as you imagined.

• This gives your muscles “head start” on that pain point, eventually embedding it into your muscle memory even quicker.

Lesson #3: A Performance is Neither “Good” nor “Bad”

Gallwey describes two selves in the book:

1. Self 1 – the teller

2. Self 2 – the doer

The Inner Game is all about the balance, or battle, that happens between these two. Self 1 dictates the mechanics through judgement (“that performance was too choppy” or “the opener wasn’t fast enough”) while Self 2 simply does. No instructions are needed, it simply performs the actions. It already knows what to do.

The problem is that Self 1 rarely stays quiet. It passes judgement on every dropped card or fumbled display, building frustration and ultimately leading to unnatural movements and overcorrections.

Gallwey’s advice is to replace judgement with observation of the self.

Similar to meditation, where you simply observe what you’re feeling, your goal here is not to judge whether your performance of a move is “good” or “bad,” but to simply watch what you did.

This doesn’t mean to not strive for improvement, but recognizing that judgement, both positive and negative, leads to us building unnecessary tension (putting pressure on ourselves to keep up a good performance, or frustration after we keep dropping packets). Over time, this judgement wears away at our performance.

Try this:

Next time you feel yourself judging your own performances:

• Record yourself doing the move.

• In an almost scientific way, simply observe and take note of what you do.

• Notice the movements, the flow, the pacing. See what actually happened without judging it as good or bad.

• Then without telling yourself how to improve, practice the move again and observe how your hands naturally correct on their own.

• Simply let it happen. Trust your Self 2.

Lesson #4: Quiet the Mind

The overarching goal of The Inner Game of Tennis is focused concentration – the inner game of cardistry is no different.

While cardistry naturally lends itself to putting the performer in a meditative state, there is a higher level of concentration and performance that can be achieved when the mind is truly quiet. When the noisy judgment of Self 1 ceases to exist.

To achieve this state requires focus.

One of Gallwey’s tennis tips for this is to concentrate on the seams of the tennis ball. As you focus your mind on such a minute detail of your performance, the typically noisy Self 1 tends to quiet. You’re not worrying about which mechanics you’re doing right or wrong. You’re focusing your conscious attention on the details of a near-invisible aspect of your craft, allowing your body to simply go through the motions uninterrupted.

Your Self 1 has nothing to tell you, and your mind quiets.

Try this:

Next time your mind is too noisy:

• Focus on your left thumb.

• Notice the packets it connects to when performing the flourish.

• How it moves without you even directing it – bending, connecting, readjusting as your fingers simply go through the motion of the move.

• Your mind forgets the instructions it was trying to tell you, and you can simply allow your hands to perform the flourish.

Closing Thoughts

Unlike the outer game of cardistry, the inner game isn’t about mastering the mechanics. It’s about mastering your mind.

1. Allowing the simple observation of another cardist’s performance to guide the rhythm of your own.

2. Preparing the neural pathways in your mind and fingers for the motions of a particular pain point in a flourish.

3. Letting go of both positive and negative judgement in your performances.

4. Quieting your mind, allowing focused concentration to take control and simply letting your hands perform the move on their own.

These tips don’t come naturally, and there is no muscle memory that can help to lock these into our brains. But every so often, a simple reminder of this inner game we all play can be enough to bring your cardistry to the next level.

About the author, Conor O’Kane:

Conor has been doing cardistry for over 15 years. Three years ago, he started his cardistry brand, SQUAREUP, with his hometown friends Dom Corrado and Max Galarce. His mission with SQUAREUP is to bring cardistry to the world, introducing the art to those who’ve never heard of it while continuing to expand and contribute to the current community. Through SQUAREUP he also co-runs their monthly cardistry newsletter, A Cut Above, which can also be found on Substack. You can find more from Conor and SQUAREUP on squareupcards.com and @squareupcards on Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok.

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Some moves are so commonly done, and have been around for so long, that people aren’t sure of where they came from. Having an understanding of what has been done in the past can better inform us of what we can create in the future. So I thought that I would go over a few moves that are extremely familiar to cardists, but also have been around longer than they have, as people have been flourishing for quite some time. I hope that this gets you curious.

Deck Flip

The deck flip is a move originally published by St. Louis magician T.G. Murphy in 1976. He shared it in a pamphlet entitled The Triple Cut, as it was used in this three-packet cut of his. This instructional was promoted by him by placing advertisements in various magic magazines, such as the one seen here:

In 1988, T.G. Murphy also taught the move in his book Imagication under the name Reverse Mid-Air Triple Cut. The move consists of riffling a third of the deck after crossing your hands, deck-flipping it to your right hand, repeating that with a second packet, then doing a 720 deck flip to bring the last packet to the others. He also showcases multiple variations of the cut that produce one or more cards. See the image below from Imagication:

Interestingly, in Imagication, he doesn’t refer to the deck flip itself as the “deck flip”, but as “the snap.” This phrasing is also used when Lee Asher explains the deck flip in his Diving Board Double (2005) tutorial. Lee Asher first showed this move to Dan and Dave Buck. When sharing it with them, he also showed them versions where the deck would flip in the same hand 360 degrees and optionally include card productions. This later influenced some of the Bucks’ creations, such as Zero Gravity (2000), Air Born (2000), and Molecule 2 (2004). Their use of the deck flip within Molecule 2 and as a standalone flourish had the most significant impact on its direct spread, as cardists all over started doing this move.

See these explanations of Zero Gravity and Air Born from Artifice, Ruse, and Subterfuge in the Hands:

Astute readers will notice that the description of Zero Gravity matches a move that was later independently created by Daren Yeow, i.e. Dynamite. The Bucks’ version includes a Charlier Cut at the end to make it a true cut, unlike Daren’s. Subsequently, Daren also influenced Harapan Ong and his Dynamite Triumph (2023) and Jonas Haglund and his move Wrist Twist (2007). Specifically, there is a variation on Wrist Twist that ends with Dynamite, which can be seen here.

In 2017, moves using the deck flip gained a resurgence, for example, as seen here in Gaolock aka Cong Le’s triangle deck flip (2017). Even more influential was the frequent use of Zero Gravity, popularized by Tobias Levin and Nikolaj Pedersen on their Instagram accounts and in the video Last Minute. Some other notable moves involving the deck flip:

• Jerry Cestkowski describes the Twisting Deck Flip in the Encyclopedia, which utilizes two hands. He notes how difficult it is to do a deck flip on the opposite axis.

• A one-handed version of the Twisting Deck Flip can be seen here, performed by Lunii Ghost. I am unsure of the first person to do this move, but it has been around for a long time and has been referred to by some as Hardflip.

• Leon Sánchez’s German Deck Flip is like the previous one, except that he uses the left thumb to propel the rotation of the deck at the end of the spin.

• Sean O. has moves where, using the opposite hand, he taps the flipping deck mid-air to change its rotation.

• Last but not least, I will leave you with one of my favorite moves involving the deck flip, Kevin Ho’s Molecule 2 Aerial Drone Strike, a variation on Molecule 2.

Yo!

Another move people learned about from Daren is Yo! by Lee Asher. Lee Asher first published it in his booklet Sex Sells in 1998, then later again in 2003 in Hit the Road, which coincidentally includes the aforementioned Molecule 2. Notably, Yo! was originally done by Lee horizontally, but is more commonly done vertically. This vertical variation of Yo!, created by Daren, is most prominently seen in Air Time (2015). In addition, this move was made more ubiquitous through performances by Zach Mueller, Alejandro Portela aka The Cuso, and Aviv Moraly.

Curly Cue

This move was originally created by Randy Holt and published in Paul Harris Reveals Some Of His Most Intimate Secrets (1976). It went by the name The Curley-Cue-Move, which is different from the more commonly used Curly Cue or Curly Q. This move is based on Paul LePaul’s Hop Spread, aka the LePaul Spread, which was published in The Card Magic of Paul LePaul (1949). It was briefly mentioned twice in Jerry Cestkowski’s Encyclopedia of Playing Card Flourishes, however, he wasn’t a fan due to it being “an example of focusing unnecessary attention on the formation of a fan rather than on the fan itself.”

The move was thrown into the mainstream cardistry lexicon by Zach Mueller, first seen performed by him in his video Gruzen (2013) and later in many others, such as wrist (2015). It became so common that a dedicated Instagram page was created for it, called curly_q_is_bae. One variation is the Giant Curly Cue. Even more popular is Curly Cucu by Alejandro Portela. There is a dedicated page for this move too, i.e. curly_cucu_is_bae. In addition to Zach, I would be remiss not to mention Mads Schatz-Jakobsen (madschtz), who developed quite the following fueled by Curly Cues and Cucus.

Credits and Thanks

• Imagication by T.G. Murphy

• Diving Board Double by Lee Asher

• Artifice, Ruse, and Subterfuge in the Hands by Dan and Dave Buck

• M-U-M July 1977, Vol. 67, No. 2, p. 48 and the Society of American Magicians

• Conjuring Archive

• Ask Alexander

• Connor Wirth

• Kevin Ho

• Julian Stiber

About the author, Ethan Butler:

Ethan Butler is a cardist from Atlanta, GA that has been shuffling for over a decade. You can find him on Instagram @ethanbtlr

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I started with cardistry.

Not magic. Not gambling (I don’t recommend anyone gambles). Just the pure, visual art of manipulating playing cards — no tricks, no illusions. Just movement. Cuts, fans, flourishes. I’d spend hours practicing a single sequence until it flowed like water. It wasn’t about showing off. It was about control. Rhythm. Precision.

It became a form of meditation — a physical language spoken only through the hands. The cards became an extension of me.

But over time, something shifted. My obsession with cardistry quietly evolved into something new. Something quieter. And much, much harder: poker.

The Obsession That Follows You

I’ve always had an obsessive personality. When something grips my attention, I don’t dabble — I go all in. I believe I can learn anything... hence my catchphrase: “Let’s Learn.”

Back to cardistry — it gave me structure. Progress was visible. I was in control.

Then came poker — and poker took that control away.

At the table, you don’t touch the cards. You don’t perform. Most of the time, you just sit. And wait. You fold more than you play. The pace is glacial. But for someone like me, used to constant movement, there was only one outlet: the chips.

I remember one hand clearly. I’d just folded a suited connector pre-flop, played perfectly tight all night — and still found myself watching my stack shrink. I sat there riffling chips like a metronome, trying to stay calm while the urge to do something pulsed through every finger. That’s when I realized: poker isn’t about motion. It’s about control over inaction.

Poker doesn’t reward perfection. It rewards patience. It rewards those who can keep showing up, even when the cards don’t fall their way.

A Word of Warning (From Someone Who Still Loves the Game)

Poker is one of my hobbies — or maybe a bad habit. It’s an adrenaline rush when my hand holds… or when a bluff lands. But I wouldn’t recommend poker to anyone. Don’t gamble.

If you’re wired like me — someone who thrives on flow, finesse, and instant progress — poker will challenge every instinct you have.

Because in poker, you can do everything right and still lose. Over and over again.

It’s a game that humbles you. A game that teaches you how to lose well, and how to wait for your moment — without chasing it. I haven’t mastered that yet.

But if you can sit with the discomfort — If you find beauty in the quiet calculation, the hidden tells, the long grind — Then poker will give you something cardistry never could: A seat at a table where discipline is louder than flair.

And yeah, you’ll still get to shuffle chips like a badass.

Want to Try Cardistry? Start Here.

If you're more about movement than mind games, cardistry is a perfect place to begin. It’s pure, creative, and endlessly satisfying. Here’s how to start:

1. Choose the right deck. Cardistry decks feel better in-hand — better stock, smoother finish, cleaner fans.

2. Learn the fundamentals. Start with the Z-grip, Charlier cut, and one-handed shuffle. These are your foundation.

3. Practice over soft surfaces. You will drop cards. A lot. A bed or rug saves your deck (and your ego).

4. Watch in slow motion. Tutorials and self-recordings help you catch the subtle mechanics that make a move work.

5. Focus on fluidity, not speed. Smooth is strong. Fast comes later.

6. Build combos. Once you’ve learned a few moves, connect them into sequences. That’s where your style begins.

Obsession can be a gift — when pointed in the right direction. Whether you're flourishing cards in silence or shuffling chips at the table, the deck will always reflect who you are.

The only question is: can you stay in the game long enough to find out?

About the author, Ekaterina Dobrokhotova:

Ekaterina is an internationally renowned magician and content creator based in Toronto, Canada. Known for her visually striking cardistry and sleight-of-hand work, she first gained recognition through her self-produced YouTube videos, which have since led to appearances on The CW, SyFy, The History Channel, and ITV.

She has created branded content for global companies including L’Oréal, Coca-Cola, and Google, and is the creator of the Let’s Learn video series — followed by over 4 million people across platforms.

You can find her on instagram @ekatmagic

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A Missing Stage

There was a time when every great move had a place to shine.

When Best Cardist Alive was active, countless new cardists were discovered — not because of algorithms or fame, but because someone cared enough to share their work.

Through pages like BCA or events like the Cardistry-Con Championship, entire generations of cardists found their voice, their audience, and their confidence.

The Silence After

But when those platforms disappeared, something changed.

We still see new faces here and there, but it feels harder than ever for them to be noticed.

So many talented cardists, so many brilliant ideas — lost in the noise, unseen not because they aren’t good enough, but because no one shared them.

Meanwhile, most of us keep watching new videos from the cardists we already know — even when the moves look the same, it somehow feels safer than exploring someone new.

A Shrinking Community

The entire community feels smaller now.

Even big brand videos get fewer views on YouTube, and for smaller brands or solo creators, the numbers are almost invisible.

It’s not that people stopped caring — maybe we’ve just grown used to scrolling past new faces, assuming we’ve seen it all before.

The Barrier Between Worlds

In the last few years, China’s cardistry scene has grown faster than ever — but because of political restrictions, most cardists can’t use international platforms. Without VPNs, many can only watch reuploads on Bilibili — reposts that might disappear anytime.

To fix that, I started an account called ‘Cardistry Express’, reposting and translating international videos so Chinese cardists could see what’s happening beyond the wall.

(Cardistry Express)

Now, I’m building a mirror — a “reverse” account that brings Chinese cardistry back to the world (@cardistrycn).

Because I believe good moves shouldn’t be stopped by borders, language, or politics.

Creating Opportunities

With my brand Swirl, I try to find cardists who deserve to be seen. I’ve taken 26-hour train rides just to film with someone new. I’ve gone to small towns just to film a video that could share their cardistry with more people.

Because I believe great cardistry is everywhere — it just needs someone willing to look for it. If no one gives them a chance, then I’ll create that chance myself.

I’m not the only one trying to do this. There are other accounts and projects out there also finding ways to give more cardists a chance to be seen, to make the community a little brighter.

It’s encouraging to see people still trying — proof that the spirit of cardistry is still alive, quietly growing through those who care.

The Value of Being Seen

Almost every great cardist had a moment when someone noticed them. Sometimes that single moment of being seen is all it takes to keep someone going — to remind them that what they create matters.

Maybe we can bring that feeling back.

Maybe it’s as simple as sharing a post, leaving a comment, or giving a young cardist a chance.

The community doesn’t grow by accident — it grows when we choose to see each other.

About the author, Lunii Sun:

Lunii Sun is a Chinese cardist currently studying in Tokyo. He is the founder of Swirl, also runs CardistrySpotlight and CardistryCN, community accounts that connect and showcase cardists across the world. You can find him on Instagram @lunii_ghost.

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Why consistency?

Being able to perform a move consistently benefits you in many ways:

1. You save time filming videos.

2. You can share the move with other Cardists more conveniently (imagine a friend still waiting for you to nail the move after the 67th attempt!)

3. You can also confidently share it with laypeople, which helps spread Cardistry and the joy to others.

Having consistency means that you have a great muscle memory of that move, which allows you to freestyle with those moves you have mastered. Being able to do a move freely and without struggle also gives you a chance to express yourself and to go with the flow, like dancing to the music.

How to Improve Consistency:

1. Be Contingent

Develop the intuition to know when you can do a certain move, in accordance with different weather conditions, deck conditions, and hand conditions.

Knowing what you can do and cannot do at the moment gives you the opportunity to do the move confidently and helps you to decide whether to take the risk or not. It will also prevent you from wasting time trying to film a move in inappropriate conditions, like when your hands are not moist enough, your deck is too new for aerial moves or if it’s too old for spread moves, or if a card is too soft to do a Flicker Shot.

Find your own threshold. Everyone is unique, and no two people’s hands are exactly the same. This also applies to weather conditions and deck conditions. The way we store and maintain our decks are different, different decks have different stocks and finishes, which react to different weather differently. In a nutshell, we are all in different situations. You know your own circumstance the best, so you have to find out what works and what does not work for you.

2. Learn Mindfully & Discover your own Tips

When starting to learn a move, I don’t jump right into memorizing the mechanics and repeating the move mindlessly. Rather, I carefully analyze the mechanics of the move and wonder what is making me struggle with it, and why can’t I do it as smoothly as the creator/instructor.

I ask myself if there’s any subtle differences in the grip or finger movements that I’ve overlooked. If I find out what I’m doing incorrectly compared to the way the instructor does it, I will try to correct my technique and copy the instructor.

If that still doesn’t work, I then modify my approach and find my own workaround or handling. Since we are all in different situations, tips that work for others may not work for you all the time, thus discovering tips that fit your unique situation is necessary.

3. Learn to Improvise

Learn how to fix accidents. Learning more moves means you can do more from an “accidental” grip. For example, a packet accidentally landing horizontally on the deck after an aerial move can be fixed by executing a short-edge Scissor Cut to bring the cards back into a squared position:

4. Attempt to Make an Uncut Video

One time my laptop broke, so I couldn’t edit videos. The only way to post them to YouTube was to upload the raw footage from my point-and-shoot camera (Instagram and smartphones were not a thing back then). Because of this, I was forced to make uncut performances. Every time I wanted to upload a video, I had to put in so much effort, and it took me dozens of takes to film a video. But after a while of doing this, I realized that my ability to film uncut videos had improved.

When you set a goal (like a list of moves that you want to successfully film) and you try again and again, it really helps you to improve faster, since you have to pay a lot of attention during the process. By doing this, you can see the results immediately by checking the filmed take, and if you don’t feel satisfied with it, you can always delete it and film again.

5. Film yourself frequently to check your own performances

Sometimes we delude ourselves into thinking that we can do a move well, or we are mistaken about our failure-to-success ratio. We don’t really know it until we try to do it in front of a camera.

Additionally, seeing ourselves doing the move from our own point of view or in the mirror may give us a false perception that we are doing it smoothly. We may find that our performance is actually sloppy when we watch a recorded video of it, or even worse, that we don’t even have a single successful take of a move that we thought we could do. Filming yourself frequently is an effective way to test whether or not we can actually pull off our material, as opposed to only assuming that we are able to do so.

Closing

These are 5 tips that I personally find very effective to improve consistency. I know these tips are not quick fixes or specific card handlings that you can apply immediately. These tips should be taken as general guidelines or a mindset to follow, and it takes time to integrate them and make them a habit. I hope this article can help you enjoy Cardistry more in the long term.

About the author, Yang Nguyen:

Yang is a Vietnamese cardist and Cardistry-Con Uncut Performance winner. He’s known for his smooth flow, innovative movement beyond just the hands, and the way he links moves together into seamless, rhythmic sequences. Follow him on Instagram @yangcardistry

What if I told you you’ve been using trainers this whole time — without even realizing it?

We usually think of trainers as specific tools — Slabs, Squids, or other variations designed specifically for practice. But maybe the word “trainer” has been boxed in too tightly.

When you break it down, a trainer isn’t defined by what it’s made of — it’s defined by how it’s used. And more importantly, by the mindset behind it.

Think about that one deck you always reach for. Maybe it’s perfectly broken in, smooth and flowy. Or maybe it’s a “poop deck” — 39 cards, dirty edges, with corners bent beyond saving. But here’s the thing: you’re not afraid to drop it. You’re not stressing over dings or damage. You’re just focused on getting better. That freedom? That’s training.

Training isn’t just about reps — it’s about removing hesitation. It’s about refining your control, pushing your limits, and building muscle memory without fear of failure. You’re not just practicing — you’re training.

And that shift in language matters. Because once you realize you’ve been training all along, it builds confidence. Suddenly, your sessions feel more legitimate. More purposeful.

Recognizing what you’re already doing — and giving it the right name — opens the door to deeper growth.

Tools of the Trade

Different tools serve different purposes. Some Cardists grab a beater deck to try something wild without worrying. Others might prefer that perfectly broken-in deck where every move feels just right. Maybe you’re practicing keeping packets perfectly square, so you only use a fresh deck for a while. Or maybe you’re working on flow and transitions with a set of Slabs, where you can focus purely on the flow without stressing over dropping cards.

They’re all trainers — even if we don’t always call them that.

Whether it’s a beater deck, a fresh one, or anything you trust to let loose with, these are the tools we reach for when we want to train without holding back. The only real difference is that we haven’t been using the word “trainer” to describe them. Until now.

No one method of training is better than another — just like no single move defines the art. Each tool brings out different qualities. What matters is how you use them to get closer to your goals.

Think of it like exercise. One person might lift weights and do cardio, while another focuses on bodyweight training and jiu-jitsu. They wouldn’t argue over which methods are “better” — they’d recognize that both paths lead to improvement. And sometimes, exposure to different methods opens up new ideas that help in unexpected ways.

Cardistry works the same way.

Once you start seeing your practice that way — as training — you can start being more deliberate with how you approach it.

Mastering Moves: Different Styles, Same Dedication

All of this — the goal, the tools, the mindset — is aimed at one thing: making you a more complete Cardist.

And being a complete Cardist doesn’t just mean performing difficult moves. It means understanding movement, developing flow, and finding your voice — whether that comes through inventing or interpreting.

Someone who doesn’t create original moves but masters their favorites from others?

Awesome.

Someone who only creates and performs their own material?

Also awesome.

Both are training. Both are growing. These differences aren’t barriers — they’re pathways to unique strengths.

Innovating with fresh ideas adds to the art, and perfecting timeless classics preserves its roots. Each approach pushes boundaries and brings something valuable to the shared creativity within the community.

And at the end of the day, training — in any form — moves you forward.

Why Switching It Up Unlocks Hidden Potential

Switching between tools isn’t just about variety — it’s a way to unlock different layers of your ability. Each one challenges you in a new way, forcing your hands — and your brain — to adapt and grow.

A set of Slabs might help you isolate the intricacies of packet cuts. A beater deck trains your fearlessness. A new deck trains your control. All of them sharpen different aspects of your skillset.

All of them are trainers.

This isn’t about picking one path and sticking to it. It’s about realizing that every tool you use is part of a larger training process — and the more tools you expose yourself to, the more complete your training becomes.

If you always find yourself reaching for the same type of trainer, take this as a push to try something different. Instead of always using a full deck, experiment with just half and see what shifts. If you always grab a beater, push yourself to use fresh decks for a while—feel how it changes your flow. Switch it up. Explore the unfamiliar. Growth happens when you step outside your usual pattern.

Everything Contributes: How Training Alone Strengthens Us Together

We’re all training — with different tools, in different ways. And once that becomes clear, it reshapes everything. What you reach for, how you move, what you focus on — it all begins to carry more intention.

Training solo can be powerful — it’s where you push yourself, explore, and get lost in the rhythm. But training together? That’s where it all levels up. That’s where ideas cross-pollinate, training methods get exchanged, and the craft becomes bigger than any one person.

Even when we’re not in the same room, the way we post, share, comment, and connect creates a kind of collective training space. Just by showing up and engaging, we help each other improve.

Maybe you’re jamming solo in your room. Maybe you’ve got a small group chat where you quietly share your best stuff. Maybe you’re posting a clip — or just watching one, and letting it shape your next session. However it shows up in your life, you’re part of something bigger.

You’re training. And you’re not doing it alone.

Let’s keep building each other up. Let’s keep switching it up — trying different tools, innovating styles, and exploring the depths of what we think we can do.

Let’s keep training — together.

About the author, Sean Armand:

Sean Armand has been immersed in the world of cards for over 20 years, constantly refining techniques and experimenting with both classic and original moves. Sharing ideas — whether through writing, cardistry, or conversation — has always been a driving passion. With a deep respect for the growth of the community and a desire to help others bring their ideas to life, Sean aims to contribute to the ongoing evolution of the craft while encouraging collaboration and creativity along the way. Sean’s ideas and thoughts are shared on Instagram, TikTok, and Substack under the handle @armandhammer713 on all platforms.

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In this article I’d like to share my thoughts on making cardistry more practical. I gave a talk at Cardistry-Con 2024 on this subject, and I wanted to get these ideas out there for anyone who wasn’t at the Con.

When I first started creating my own cardistry, my goal was to make moves that were as cool and novel as possible. The best way I found to do this was to look for obtuse, difficult mechanics and uncomfortable grips, and construct moves out of those. My mindset was that most people wouldn't bother to explore these ideas because they dismissed them as being too hard. And this strategy kind of works! I made a bunch of cool moves; however, they were all way too hard and I never want to do them again.

My approach completely missed the point of what cardistry is about, which is demonstrating control. Every great move does this in some way. Aerial moves demonstrate an understanding of how a card or packet will act in midair, and being able to control where and how it will land. Cuts are about controlling multiple packets and keeping them square. Fans are about controlling the amount of spread and shape of the deck, etc.

I had assumed that more difficulty equals a more impressive amount of control, but I have since realized that the opposite is true. When you watch someone performing cardistry (or anything else, for that matter) the first thing you notice is their confidence and proficiency. Do their hands look relaxed, or tense? Are they making mistakes? If they have truly mastered their craft, it will look like the performance is completely effortless. They don’t need to look at their hands; they don’t even need to think about what they are doing. This is called sprezzatura, or “studied carelessness”. In my opinion, this is the ultimate display of control.

I think this is why laymen enjoy simple flourishes. The mechanics are irrelevant - they are reacting to your ability to do them with seemingly no effort. Fellow cardists will also notice and comment on subconscious “fidget moves”, even if they aren’t particularly new or interesting. 

Obviously, with enough practice, anything can be performed with sprezzatura. The problem with the really difficult, impractical flourishes is that it takes a tremendous amount of time and  dedication to get them to that point, and so many cardists settle with a sub-par performance and hope to compensate with novelty and design. This unfortunately doesn’t work. Ideas are meaningless without execution, and people won't be able to see the effort you put into move design if you can't do the move in the first place. I think this is something we forget because we get so excited about the creative stuff and the ideas.

If you feel like you are guilty of this (I definitely am), here is my recommendation:

MAKE EASY MOVES

If you are used to making harder stuff, it’s a tough habit to break. I think it’s important to think of extreme difficulty as a design flaw. It is something that can be prevented and eliminated, once you are aware of it. When you are working on a flourish, is there one moment or action that always trips you up? There’s probably a way to simplify it — maybe just a small tweak, or maybe it needs to be replaced with something different. Make decisions based on what feels good to execute, and what feels comfortable in your hands (AKA Comfy Cardistry). 

You should also be mindful of the duration of your moves. Every additional packet, movement or phase can increase the difficulty of both practicing and performing the move. Use restraint, and try to keep things concise. 

As tempting as they are, you should also avoid mechanics that you have no control over. Chaotic aerials are the biggest offenders, but also consider more subtle things like clipped and balanced packets. Make sure that those packets will stay in your control even if your hands are a little sweaty or if the cards are a little slippery.

Intentionally making easy moves might sound boring, but I have actually found it to be a really fun and interesting creative challenge. Like any other constraint, it can force you to make different decisions than you usually would. It also speeds up the creative process as you will be able to make judgments about the flourish without as much practice.

I should mention that when I say "easy", I don't necessarily mean to make moves for someone who's never touched cards before (moves like that are hard to come across these days!) I mean make moves that are easy for you. At your current skill level. Moves that feel good to perform and can be executed consistently and repeatedly.

I’m also not saying that there isn’t a place for impossible flourishes and insane stunts in cardistry - most of us get into cardistry because of those moves. However, easy, practical moves still have an important place in the cardistry world and have some unique benefits.

One thing I noticed very quickly after designing a few easy moves is that other people want to learn them. I’ve been doing cardistry for over 10 years, but this was the first time I saw other cardists going out of their way to learn and perform cuts I had made. It turns out that people don’t want to learn things that they will never be able to do! They want to learn practical things that they can actually perform and add to their repertoire.

Another great thing about practical cardistry is that it is easier to film. Tobias Levin's iconic cardistry video MIX 08 was filmed entirely in 2 hours - that's around 10 minutes per flourish. You don't get those kinds of results without being VERY consistent, and having a complete understanding of every aspect of each move. Simplifying the filming process allows you to focus on other parts of your cardistry video, like the framing, timing, and camera movement.

Finally, (and most importantly), doing practical cardistry is fun. It allows you to share your ideas with other people, with the confidence that you will be able to nail your moves on the first try. It unlocks new forms of performance that would otherwise be impossible - I would love to see more cardists doing uncut routines and live performances!

This practical approach has changed the way I think about cardistry and I hope you consider trying it out. Leave any questions or thoughts in the comments; I’d love to read them :)

Cheers!

If you enjoyed this and want to read more, I recommend getting your hands on Alex Hansford’s book “MAINSPRING”, which was the initial inspiration for this article. Alex discusses some of these ideas (and more) in the context of magic, and there are a lot of other great essays in there that directly translate to cardistry too.

About the author, Samuel Pratt:

Samuel Pratt (aka spratt) is 26 and currently lives in Melbourne, Australia. You can find him on Instagram @sprattcards

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If you were to ask all the most experienced cardists of the community if they think good performance is an important part of our art form, pretty much all of them would answer “yes” without a second thought, and the same would be true at pretty much all levels of skill and experience. Most cardists understand very clearly what the value of good performance is: well performed moves look good, and that's a positive thing.

This is, of course, true for pretty much any performance-based art form. But what does that statement really mean for cardistry right now based on the way we function as a community? It means that if you have a move you want to show, and you want to get the best possible reactions showing it, then you need to film an acceptable looking take of said move and make sure that's the take you use to show it, and yeah — that's pretty much it.

In other words, for cardists, good performance means that you need to be able to do whatever move you are trying to film from beginning to end without dropping the cards at least once within the time frame you have for filming.

And using this exact process, a cardist would be perfectly capable of:

• Posting moves on social media that get positive feedback from other cardists and maybe even getting some of those moves shared by a popular cardistry repost account.

• Putting together a solo video (either as an independent project or sponsored by a brand) that meets the standards of video quality held by the majority of the community.

• Winning an international cardistry competition.

And by getting any of these achievements you can become a well-known and appreciated member of the community, you can make some friends, you can even make some money too, and for a niche hobby like cardistry, those are pretty much all the main goals you can have.

So keeping all these things in mind, when a cardist inevitably figures out that you only need to care about performance in the way previously described, you can't blame them for sticking to that way of doing things. It's what most other cardists are doing, and you can clearly see that it gives good results, therefore those have become the standards most cardists have right now. However, this is not really a very ideal way of doing things, at least not in the long run, because when you work with this mindset it is very easy and almost inevitable that your technical progress as a cardist is going to slow down a lot and become very inefficient.

The core reason why this happens is that cardists don't practice cardistry to master the moves, because in order to get good takes of your new packet cut you don't really need to get even close to mastering it — you just need to be able to properly do it once in a while. On the other hand, to truly master a move, you need to achieve high-quality performance consistency.

And achieving performance consistency comes with many benefits.

You are most likely going to unlock the full potential of moves, and make them look as good as they can look, so that way every one of your creations is going to stand out so much more.

Given that in order to master a move, you need to master all the skills required to perform it well, every time you successfully get to that point with a new move you are going to gain an entire new toolkit that you are going to be able to use for future creations.

You are going to become great at live performance. Did you ever wonder why you never get crazy reactions when you show people cardistry live? Is it because of the lack of music and camera movement? Well, there is an argument to be made about that, but most likely it’s going to be because you are not even able to show them your best moves in the first place: you are showing them a Legolove combo, a Sybil variation, and if you are feeling brave that day they might get to see a shaky Backdrop. I know that has happened to you because it happened to me many times, and it's the same for all of your cardistry friends. Well, if your goal when practicing moves is to master them, then you are solving this problem right away.

So if there are many reasons to strive to master your moves, why don't more cardists do it? Because as explored in the first half of this article, everything you could try to achieve as a member of this community, you can achieve without the need to even consider to practice your material beyond the point of getting that single good take of it — it's as simple as that.

Cardistry competitions don't give you any extra credit for being able to perform your new move multiple times, and performing older, already known moves — either by you or someone else — is always going to be seen as a negative by the judges and the audience as well. It's been like that for so long that most active members of the community have never seen a major competition that is not like that.

People at Cardistry-Con are only going to have crazy reactions while watching your solo video if it's packed with brand new moves, and you usually only need to show a single take of each one to make people go "no way!" and "woah" as many times in a row as possible.

And there is just no reason for most cardists to ever worry about improving their live performance skills. The one reason that makes some cardists care about this once in a while is when they are going to go to a convention or jam and they want to have some moves they can show to other cardists, and even this is not that much of a reason for people to take live performance that seriously.

And that's the situation we are in right now, explained as well as I can explain it in this article.

So what can we do about it?

That's the real question, and I don't really have a clear answer for it, and whatever the right steps that need to be taken to start changing this for the better are, it's going to have to be a collective effort, because this is not a problem that can be solved by a couple of people — this is a situation rooted in the culture of the community itself, and a lot of cardists don't consider that any of this could be a problem to begin with.

Therefore, my main goal with this article is to get at least a few more people thinking about all of this as much as I do, and if that happens to you, please let me know! That's going to be enough for me to consider this a success.

So the next time you perform a shaky Backdrop for a girl that was interested in seeing what you do with cards and she has no reaction at all, just remember: maybe if you practiced focused on mastering moves instead of just getting good takes of them, the Backdrop would have landed properly, and maybe that was all you needed to be in the timeline where that girl becomes your wife.

Thanks for reading!

About the author, Dabi H.A.:

Dabi here, self proclaimed villain of the cardistry community since 2018. I am a 2-time world champion, and my goal is to make that number keep going up until I'm the undisputed best competitive cardist of all time — wish me luck! And if you want to be updated on how this quest goes, you can follow me on Instagram @the_villain.131

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How to balance creation and exploration based on your goals and experience level

One of the biggest dilemmas in cardistry is deciding when to learn and when to create. Every cardist - beginner or pro - faces this crossroad at some point. Do you dive into tutorials to expand your skill set? Or do you chase originality and push the art forward with something brand new?

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer. But understanding where you are in your journey, and what you want from the artform, can make all the difference.

My Personal Journey Through That Crossroad

While everyone’s path is different, I think my experience reflects a dilemma many cardists face at some point.

These days, I rarely find myself learning new moves. Most of my time is spent either practicing the moves I’ve recently created or brainstorming new ones. That’s largely because I, like many others, used to believe that creating high-quality original material for a polished performance video was the pinnacle of cardistry.

Because of that mindset, learning took a back seat. I’d often spend years compiling material for a video I’d be truly satisfied with.

That said, I’ve come to appreciate that this long-form approach isn’t the best path for everyone. For some cardists, the process of creating a move and sharing it instantly on Instagram is incredibly satisfying. It’s more spontaneous, less pressure-filled, and a great way to stay creatively energized. Even though it’s not something I regularly do myself, I can absolutely see the value and fun in that approach.

The Paradox of Growth

Here’s the twist: while I’m focused on creating, I also believe that learning new techniques is essential for future creativity.

If I’ve only ever made packet cuts and never explored aerials for example, I’m limiting myself. Without exposure to new styles, I’m unlikely to organically fuse them into my own work. And often, those fusions are what make moves feel fresh and dynamic.

That’s where the tension lies - and sometimes, it’s paralyzing. I’ve picked up a deck and not known what to do because the possibilities were endless, yet no single path felt clear.

So... What Should You Do?

To simplify this internal battle, ask yourself two questions:

1. Where are you in your cardistry journey?

2. What do you want out of cardistry right now?

If You’re Just Getting Started…

Begin by building a strong foundation.

• Have you explored basic moves in key genres like packet cuts, fans, spreads and aerials?

• Are you starting to recognize how moves connect or how one idea can inspire another?

If yes, then it might be time to start creating your own moves. Don’t stress about being revolutionary. At first, it’s about understanding how to link actions together and occasionally stumbling upon something new.

Creation at this stage is just another form of learning.

If You’re More Experienced…

You’ve created moves. You’ve learned a lot. Now you feel... stuck.

This is where your goals come into play.

If you want to be known as a top-tier cardist, you’ll need to go beyond performing difficult moves made by others. The most common route is creating original material that pushes the art forward.

Here’s a process that’s worked for me:

🎥 Create a video or performance showcasing your original material
⏸️ Take a break from creating
🔁 Spend time learning styles and categories you haven’t explored before

When you return to creating, you’ll have a fresh perspective and a broader skill set.

If You’re In It for the Fun

Not everyone wants to push boundaries, and that’s completely valid.

If your main goal is to enjoy cardistry, then lean into learning. Discover new moves, try out different genres, and appreciate the process.

Performing someone else’s move can be just as rewarding, especially when it leads to connection with other cardists. I’ve felt that first-hand, both as the learner and as the creator. It’s energizing.

Quick Tips to Stay Balanced

Here are a few ways to keep your cardistry practice fresh, fun, and fulfilling:

✍️ Keep a running list of moves to learn and ideas to develop
🧭 Explore new styles (e.g. isolations, displays, one-handed cuts)
📹 Film your progress to stay motivated and track your evolution
🗓️ Alternate between weeks where you focus on learning vs. creating

Final Thoughts: Let Cardistry Flow Naturally

At the end of the day, your cardistry journey doesn’t need a rigid plan.

• Some days you’ll be a creator, inventing something totally new.

• Some days you’ll be a student, mastering a move from a tutorial.

• And some days, you’ll just be flowing, shuffling your deck while watching TV - letting the cards move in your hands like second nature.

Whatever path you choose, cardistry is a space for exploration.

It’s your own hands, your own rhythm, your own style.

So lean in, follow the motion, and see where it takes you.

💬 What About You?

How do you balance learning and creating in your own cardistry practice?

Drop a comment below - I’d love to see what you’re working on.

Thanks for reading!
- Dom Corrado

About the author, Dom Corrado:

Hey, I’m Dom Corrado. I’ve been deep in cardistry for over a decade, and these days my focus tends to be on creating compact packet cuts that feel personal and refined. I’m also one half of Squareup Cards, which I run with my close friend Conor O’Kane. We design playing cards, drop clothing, and teach cardistry at all levels through our social channels @squareupcards. If you enjoyed this post, you might like my monthly newsletter, where I share thoughts on creativity, learning, and what’s happening in the cardistry community - you can check it out here. Thanks for reading.

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A talking point in the community over the past year or so has revolved around the question: “Is cardistry dead?” With views dropping, big name cardists posting less, and new material rarely coming out, there is a valid argument that interest in cardistry could be on a decline. However, I believe in a counter argument. The people who say cardistry is dead are simply looking in the wrong place. Whilst social media platforms such as Instagram or Youtube are seeing declines in views, there is one place that has cardistry thriving amongst laymen like we’ve never seen before: TikTok.

I always felt a need to show cardistry to laymen in a light that made me originally fall in love with the artform. As something to admire, not just as a way of clickbaiting views. After showing a friend a clip of me doing an isolation, they told me, “You have to post that on TikTok!”. So on New Year’s Eve of 2020, I posted my first cardistry video to TikTok. The video gained three thousand views over two days. For me this was unheard of. To think that three thousand random people had seen and liked cardistry because of something I posted felt amazing. So I kept posting. Each video I posted stayed around the same level of views - one thousand to three thousand with the occasional five thousand - but each video kept me hooked on posting. Seeing comments from people in awe of moves that, for me, felt easy, reminded me of how I felt seeing those first cardistry videos, of seeing a spring and thinking it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. I wasn’t going viral or anything to that level, but just knowing I was helping new people see cardistry for the first time was something special.

My first “viral” video happened in the summer on my birthday. I posted a video, like usual, and left TikTok for the day. However, when I opened the app later that night I saw the notifications pouring in, comments exclaiming astonishment, begging for tutorials, wizard jokes, etc., all because of a cardistry clip. I was overwhelmed to say the least, but I knew this was my first chance to really push cardistry to these strangers, past the notion of “this is cool” to “I want to learn this!”

I started delving into the odd tutorial, posting the first moves I learnt - riffle shuffles, Charlier cuts - as well as consistently posting clips of cardistry. Unlike before, where the clips weren’t anything special, this time I started focusing on moves that would impress someone who had never seen cardistry before. To another cardist you wouldn’t give it a second look, but for these viewers, who had never seen these moves before, it blew their minds. The account kept growing more and more. Sure, I had dips in views - it’s only natural with how social media is - but after every dip all it took was one viral video to give the account a new surge in views and followers for the next couple months, and subsequently so did the interest in cardistry. Eventually the account grew to a level I could start doing what every cardist has dreamt of.

I started earning money from just posting cardistry.

Now, granted, there are caveats to earning money - at the time of writing, videos that can be eligible have to be over a minute long and have sufficient views that TikTok deems enough to give a payout for. Secondly, the amount of views needed for big payouts is huge depending on certain analytics. However, despite all that, being paid anything to film something I did all the time anyway was a no brainer for me. My account was growing at such a rate that the community, cardists, and non-cardist friends were messaging me that friends and family had told them about seeing someone do cardistry on their “For You” pages. Cardistry was truly alive on TikTok, and with other cardists starting to post as well, the concept of cardistry being “dead” was alien to me.

Now as much as I will praise the use of posting on TikTok, I cannot ignore the other aspect which I believe you should question before you start posting. Like any social media, if you want to grow you have to make some sacrifices. As the years have gone on I have noticed the difficulties of posting “casual” cardistry to social media . With subtle algorithm changes and the changing landscape of social media, sometimes it feels as if you’re fighting to keep afloat with your videos. Something that did well last week may fail the next without a direct reason. With the demand for watch time, shares, comments and likes increasing every day I have even noticed myself having to slip into doing the very thing I hated seeing years ago, with clickbait captions or text on the screen in an attempt to gather the watch time the algorithm demands for each video. If you get caught up in the views and the analytics, cardistry can soon become a job that can inevitably lead to burn out. I end up asking myself, do I follow the current clickbait trends I once disagreed with in an attempt to keep pushing cardistry to more and more people? Or do I go back to my roots, stop worrying about analytics and keep posting for the fun of it no matter the outcome? I don’t know my answer yet, but I still believe despite the downsides that this new platform will be what brings cardistry another step forward.

So I’ve discussed my journey into posting on TikTok and I want to circle back to that initial statement. Is cardistry dying? Maybe, maybe not. If you think it is, you have the ability to help revive it. An audience is there, waiting, and they are just one video away from learning their first cardistry move. TikTok, out of all the current platforms, is currently the easiest way to go viral. Even if 0.1% of viewers actually go on to learn cardistry, just a single viral clip could bring in a thousand new cardists into the community. So maybe we should stop caging ourselves in with familiarity, and start looking into expanding where we showcase this art.

About the author, Max Heathcock:

Hello! My name’s Max and I have been a cardist for roughly eight years now. I am from the UK and originally started cardistry, like many, from card magic; however, I soon switched to cardistry after only a year. I love the freedom that cardistry allows me and I hope to continue bringing the artform to new people, evoking the same feelings I had when seeing cardistry for the first time. You can find me on Instagram @maxhtck_, and on TikTok @stopgoawaythanks

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So here we are, at this beautiful point in history where anyone has access to a camera (yes, you use your phone for taking pictures more than calling). Now that you can film whatever you do without having to know how to actually use a camera, it would make sense to find good Cardistry videos frequently, of course. Right?

So… Where is this beautiful content?

All This Paint and So Few Paintings.

Okay, so hear me out for a second: did you know that Michelangelo's David was once just a marble block? (shout-out to Frank Sung). Every sculpture was initally a piece of wood, a block, or a ball of clay. Every piece of wood is an art piece, potentially. I like to think about ideas as something to work with. An idea can also be sculpted into something beautiful.

So yeah, every piece of wood is an art piece (potentially) but, if you don’t make the right choices, it can be just firewood.

There you have it. There are the videos we were looking for: a lot of them ended up being just firewood, some of them are still just a chunk of wood and only a couple are beautiful art pieces.

Why is this important?

The Need to Communicate.

One of my favorite books ever is Mainspring by Alexander Hansford. At the very beginning he says something that should make sense to every person who has a hobby: that you’re more likely to remember an idea if it’s presented to you in a beautiful way.

Cardistry is still a young art form and it is constantly evolving. We still get our news or even find out about other people’s projects because of Instagram. Every time we see a new move it’s because it was featured in a video. Some of the most important moments in Cardistry history are the release of iconic videos that we still watch when we need inspiration.

That’s the reason why it’s so important to know your craft.

Imagine having an amazing/revolutionary/never-before-seen idea. It is really important that we as a community find out about it and learn from it, if you ask me. We’re still in an early art form stage. Now, imagine having this idea, filming and posting it on the internet. Depending on your work, a couple of things can happen:

• The video does not show what you mean to show, the angle you used is not being helpful so a big part of the move is being missed, your performance was not the best, the light makes it harder to understand… nobody sees it. Maybe worse: we see it, but we ignore it because it's not easy to retain just with a social media interaction. It gets lost in space forever.

• The video shows exactly what you were trying to express, the idea is clear and easy to understand, your performance was on point, the vibes on the video get you inspired… people share their opinion, they are giving advice and asking for a tutorial. You grow, we grow.

So yeah, it is important to have the diamond, but it is equally important to know a thing or two about how to carve, cut and polish as well so you can use it for something.

The Advice You Were (not) Asking For.

I’m not the best cardist, but if you watch my videos you will believe I’m good. I’m not that good. I’m just great at expressing myself.

My advice?

Try to learn about how to express your ideas. Maybe you like cameras and editing. Or maybe you’re not into complex editing but you love colorizing. You can be into casual phone-filmed Cardistry. You can also be into music and you can match a cut with a song. There is a world of possibilities, people.

The most helpful thing I can tell you is this: for making a good Cardistry video you need more than just Cardistry.

But yeah, we can talk about that next time.

Honestly,
-Monet.

About the author, Monet:

My name is Monet and I’m a card lover, actor, content creator, sleight artist and member of the Art of Play family. I love filming lifestyle-based cinematographic videos and shooting beautiful portraits for playing cards. You can find me on Instagram @magicmonet

Many of us started in cardistry with a mindset of pure exploration for the sake of creating, pushing boundaries, and obsessing over what was next. For me, the process was always about going the opposite direction of what everyone else was doing. That’s where I found my space.

Early on, I realized that a lot of people in the community saved their best material for longform videos. And while that’s a beautiful tradition in its own right, I started to question whether it was the most impactful way to share what we do with the world. I started thinking on a larger scale, not in terms of virality, but visibility. Could cardistry exist outside our circle? Could it connect with the casual scroller on TikTok the same way it connects with someone who knows deeply about cardistry?

Turns out, it can.

But it takes a shift in mindset. You can’t approach social media like a gallery. It’s more like a stage in the middle of a crowd. And you have to perform, not by sacrificing your artistry, but by understanding the rhythm of attention. That’s something cardistry already teaches us: timing, pacing, contrast. The first second of a video is just like the opener to a move; it has to hit. The rest is just storytelling.

My creative process has always been rooted in experimentation. That didn’t change when I started making content for a wider audience. The only difference was who I was experimenting for. The average viewer doesn’t understand packet structure or grip complexity, but they do understand surprise, fluidity, and elegance. So I started to notice which moves read well, not just which ones felt cool (and am still observing).

There’s a reason magicians often go viral easily - they're still connected to what impressed them before they learned the trick. A lot of cardists, myself included, move past that stage quickly. We create for each other. And that’s beautiful. But if we want the world to appreciate cardistry, we have to sometimes remember what made us fall in love with it in the first place.

Our advantage as cardists is being able to build up and learn a repertoire that is much more impossible than someone who is not in our community. For example, a spring can be a spring triangle; a regular waterfall can be a one-handed waterfall; the Charlier Cut can be Waves, and so on. It’s not so much about “one-upping”, but setting the goal to be more oriented around how cool cardistry really is - there is definitely space for cute, complex, and everything in between. When you really lean into what makes cardistry look and feel cool, people notice, even if they don’t fully understand what they’re seeing. That doesn’t mean sacrificing depth. It just means being willing to share, and knowing that what makes a move impressive to the community might not be what grabs someone new.

Back when I started, there was a clearer divide between performers and creators. Now, it feels like everyone’s expected to be both. And maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it pushes us all to think bigger. But it’s also okay to lean into what you love most. Some people thrive on grinding out the cleanest cuts imaginable. Others just want to make weird, beautiful shapes that feel new. Both are needed.

As for virality? It’s a side effect. Not a goal. If you tie your self-worth to numbers, it gets rough, fast. Trust me, I’ve been there. What kept me going wasn’t the views. It was the vision. I wanted cardistry to be seen. To grow. And that meant putting it out there, even if it meant getting low views at first. Even if it meant being misunderstood.

What I’ve found is that when you start treating cardistry like something worth sharing, not just showing, everything shifts. People can feel it. You don’t have to explain it. The rhythm, the shape, the timing - it carries. Whether you’re making content or creating moves, it’s all part of the same language.

About the author, Haider Ahmad:

I’m Haider Ahmad. I have done cardistry for around 10 years and was a semifinalist for the Fontaine Trials in 2022. I have always been someone who pushed against the norm and wanted to do the opposite of what I saw around me when it came to cardistry. That mentality led me to a lot of creative discoveries, and recently has brought me to a new space of realizing the lack of performing cardists promoting our art form at this time. I’ve taken it upon myself to take a look at the new frontier and inspire a new generation of cardists. You can find me on Instagram and YouTube @itscardistry.

I first discovered the world of magic when I was around 11 years old — thanks to a random YouTube video. It instantly captivated me. I felt like I had found something truly special, something that grabbed all of my attention and wouldn’t let go. From that moment on, I fell in love with magic — and more specifically, with cards.

I would spend hours thinking about techniques, practicing, watching tutorials, and performing for anyone who would give me a minute. Then, when I turned 14, I discovered cardistry — and that became my biggest obsession for most of my teenage years. All I could think about was learning flourishes, discovering new creators, dreaming about going to Cardistry-Con… My world revolved around cards.

I don’t even remember exactly how I got into cardistry — I just remember getting my first proper deck and never wanting to put it down. I brought it with me everywhere: to school, to family dinners, to long car rides. My hands always needed to be moving, and cardistry felt like the perfect way to focus, to disconnect, and to express myself all at once.

I clearly remember carrying around a red Bicycle deck like it was part of me. I used to eat breakfast with it next to my cereal bowl, sneak it into school and show off to my classmates (who, by the way, were very impressed 😂), and I’d even take it to my grandma’s house. I was constantly on Instagram and YouTube, watching content non-stop. At that time, Fontaine Cards was at its peak, and I used to watch their videos like they were cinematic masterpieces. It made me feel like I was part of something different — a global community full of creativity and identity — and I was completely hooked.

A few months after I had discovered cardistry, I decided (very confidently) to join a Spanish-speaking tournament I saw online. I had only been doing cardistry for about two months, but I thought it would be a fantastic idea to participate anyway. Spoiler: I ended up creating the most cringe-worthy video ever.

First of all, I (naively) thought I had to introduce myself at the beginning, so the video starts with: “Hi, I’m Manuela, I’m from Uruguay, I’m 14 years old and I do cardistry.” The truth? I was 13. But my birthday was just a few days away and I really wanted to sound older — oh, the irony, because now I hate saying my age 😅

At that point, I only knew how to do three moves: Charlier, Sybil, and a fan. And of course… some ace productions (I was deep in my magic roots, okay?). The tournament required the video to be at least three minutes long — which felt like a lifetime given my very limited skills — so I had a “brilliant” idea: I added photos and clips. Random ones.

Like… the Uruguayan flag.

Pictures from a local magic jam.

A teacup.

A very bizarre video involving water, oil, and a coin.

Yes, I was really trying to hit that 3-minute mark by any means necessary.

Unsurprisingly, I didn’t win. But the video somehow got a lot of love in the comments, and I think people appreciated the heart behind it. Honestly, looking back, it makes me laugh so much — and I also feel proud. We all have a beginning. Even if it’s awkward, even if it’s chaotic, it still counts. That video is still on YouTube…so here’s the link if you want to laugh a little and see where it all started:

I’ve always had a very curious personality. I love learning, I enjoy studying, and I tend to get a bit obsessive when something truly interests me. During my teenage years, I genuinely believed I would dedicate my life to magic and cardistry full-time. That was the dream — to make a living doing what I loved the most.

But as time went on, I realized it’s not that simple. I’m not saying it’s impossible — I still admire those who do it — but it’s definitely a challenging path. And in parallel to this passion, I had other goals too. I always studied a lot, worked hard on my English (my second language), and cared deeply about doing well in school. I also trained in taekwondo several hours a week.

When I turned 18, I started university and chose to study two business degrees, both related to finance. Around that time, my free time became really limited. I was constantly studying, working, and when I wasn’t doing those things, I was spending time with new friends and building a different kind of life.

Slowly, my world stopped revolving entirely around a deck of cards. At first, I didn’t want to admit it. There were days — even weeks — when I wouldn’t pick up a deck, and it made me feel guilty. I missed the feeling of practicing, the focus, the creativity. But I just didn’t have enough hours in the day. I wanted to do everything, and sometimes, something had to take the back seat.

But here’s what I’ve come to understand: We change, and that’s okay.

Our priorities shift. Life brings new challenges, new roles, and new dreams. But that doesn’t mean we stop being cardists. Just because we’re not practicing for hours every day doesn’t mean we’ve let go. That connection — the one that started so many years ago — doesn’t go away. It just becomes softer, quieter.

But it’s still there.

Even now, I still carry a deck in my bag most days. I might not always take it out, but just knowing it’s there gives me comfort. And on the days when I do shuffle, or do a flourish I haven’t practiced in months, it feels like coming home. That flow state returns instantly, like muscle memory — not just in my hands, but in my heart too.

Since 2022, I’ve been lucky to do magic shows every now and then. And honestly, that makes me really happy. Preparing for a show allows me to reconnect with that part of myself that I love so deeply. In some of my routines, I like to highlight the difference between magic and cardistry — the contrast between illusion and pure skill. So, whenever I have a show coming up, I go back to practicing cardistry again… and it brings me so much joy.

I think nowadays I’ve found a balance. A rhythm that works for me. My professional life is quite different from the artistic world of cards, but they coexist. And that harmony — between my daily routine and this creative outlet — genuinely makes me happy.

For anyone reading this who feels distant from cardistry right now, I just want to say: It’s okay.

Taking breaks doesn’t mean you’ve stopped loving it. It just means life is happening — and that’s normal.

But if you’re looking for small ways to stay connected, here are a few things that have helped me:

• Carry a deck with you. Even if you don’t take it out, just knowing it’s there keeps the connection alive.

• Do one move a day. A quick cut while you wait for something, a fan before going to sleep — it really helps.

• Rewatch the videos that inspired you. I sometimes revisit the first cardistry videos I fell in love with. They instantly bring back that spark — that feeling that made me fall in love with this art in the first place.

• Share what you love. You don’t need to post full combos. A short clip or even talking to someone about cardistry can reignite the spark.

• Allow your pace to change. There are seasons when you’ll practice more, and others when you won’t. Both are valid.

You don’t always have to be producing or improving to feel like you belong.

Sometimes, just remembering why you started is enough.

And if you’re someone who’s in a highly active phase right now — enjoy it fully. Practice, create, connect. It’s a beautiful time, and you should embrace it.

But if someday your pace changes, that doesn’t make you any less of a cardist.

Cardistry is not only about performance — it’s about presence.

Our connection with the cards evolves, just like we do.

But if it was ever real, it never fully leaves you.

So whenever you return to your deck — whether it’s tomorrow or a year from now — it will still feel like yours.

And that, to me, is the most beautiful part.

Cards have become part of my identity. They’re not just a hobby — they’re part of who I am as a woman. They’ve been one of my biggest passions, and one of the deepest loves of my life.

And even if I no longer practice every single day like I used to, that doesn’t make me less of a cardist. Not to me. Because cardistry isn’t something you “quit.”

It’s something that stays with you — quietly, faithfully, waiting for you to come home.

About the author, Manuela Rud:

Manuela Rud is a magician and cardist from Uruguay. She discovered cardistry in her teenage years and has practiced it ever since as a way to express creativity and focus. She studied business and works in the finance industry, and occasionally performs magic shows. Manuela enjoys the balance between precision and artistry that cardistry offers, and values being part of a global community that shares this passion. Follow her on Instagram @manuelarud