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Harry Collins was the first magician I ever saw back in 1965 when I was five years old. He was doing a magic show and I was the volunteer from the audience.

I never talk much about my family, but my grandfather was friendly with these guys, with magicians and ventriloquists on the highest levels, and I was just... interested.

I was one of two Jewish kids in my school. We were probably one of two Jewish families in our town.

It was my mom and I against the world. We lived in New York in this bohemian lifestyle where an extended group of artists and photographers were like my aunts and uncles.

My father was a stone mason, and a talented amateur pianist and vocalist.

I met the Santana band when I was 14. By the time I was 15, I was a member of the band.

Indeed, most magicians catch the bug as kids. My first audience was my family in Long Island. My first 'assistant' was my mother, whom I levitated on a broom in our living room.

I was the youngest and only girl in a family of two older brothers.

By the time I was 5, I was already an outcast. It was the early 1960s, and I was part of the only Jewish family in a decidedly Christian suburb of Waltham, Mass.

I was nearly a teen-ager before I stopped assuming that everyone I met was Jewish.