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