The Art of Juggling

Many people suppose that being a juggler equals being a clown or a jester. This is by no means true. A juggler performs a piece of art. A breakable and fragile pattern that seems to fill the air with soft lines of hovering balls or whatever the juggler is juggling, while he at the same time possesses the ability to let this sculpture of motion vanish into thin air whenever he wishes to.

Even though the kind of juggling I am going to tell you about doesn't include everyday abilities such as simultaneity, it is necessary to define two concepts. The first one simply means that to juggle, you've got to have more balls than hands performing the trick. This means, of course, that real juggling begins when you're executing a routine with three balls in a pattern between your two hands. If this is real juggling, then there are millions and millions of jugglers worldwide. Our definition, though, is very different. We would like to think that juggling is the ability to master a specific object, to make it exert a complex interaction with your body, so making the act stunning and magical. By using this interpretation instead, juggling includes an infinite number of styles, including the use of footballs, unicycles, clubs, bouncing balls or whatever other props you can imagine.

Everyone can learn how to juggle, using the first definition of the word, within a couple of hours, whereas the second definition requires dedication and patience. Ironically enough, most people that are skillful in handling balls, often stay at the first definition, never being able to juggle more than three or perhaps four balls. It's the people not being able to coordinate their body that discover the joy of juggling. When they've learnt how to juggle three balls, they feel they have accomplished something amazing, which they have! From, at the beginning, having to address all your concentration to the coarse and rhythmless pattern, to the fantastic feeling of being able to juggle the same three balls using only smooth and soft revolutions of the hands and providing only the least possible quantity of energy. Those people often learn all tricks there are and attain a magnificent coordination, later being able to juggle five balls and beyond.

The first step to become a juggler is therefore, of course, the three-ball cascade, which is the purest way to juggle there is. When the juggler manages to master this (at least he thinks he does), he will discover that his new founded skill allows him to juggle four balls as well, and so he arrives at the conclusion that five balls isn't very far away. This is where the juggler will encounter his first real defeat. Five balls are so different from three balls that it takes a year for most jugglers to arrive at the ability to accomplish this feat.

When the juggler now wants to seek new and exciting challenges, he might find his way to the wonderful props called clubs. They are funny shaped, they are often colourful, glittery and flashy, and last but not least, they spin! The mediocre juggler loves clubs, since it is almost as easy to juggle a three-ball cascade as it is to juggle a three-club cascade. Clubs are therefore excellent for impressing the audience. They think it looks marvelous and impossible.

The juggler has now learnt how to handle his flashy, but somewhat worn, clubs.
He knows that he is able to perform a rather impressive show, but as soon as the sun sets, his audience looses interest. A bright idea then strikes his mind. Fire! Feared since the dawning of mankind, dangerous and totally amazing. The determined juggler approaches a dubious shop down a dark alley and enters. Inside he sees remarkable but dreadful things, and after having bought three torches and fuel, he leaves as quickly as possible.

When you hold in your possession three objects that burn and get really hot, and you won't be satisfied with holding them in your hands, but moreover start throwing those things in the air and even between you and your equally skillful friend, it's hard to interrupt your progress as a juggler. You've seen those madmen on TV and circuses that practice fire breathing, and you've always thought that it was simple luck that kept them from turning themselves and everyone else close, into big, living, burning wicks. Now you're no longer that certain.

After having called all competent authorities that might be able to find out whether "N-Paraffin" is lethal, and got a blurred but satisfying answer, you get out there and leave the human race once for all to become a Juggler.

Now that our friend, the Juggler, has successfully converted, a whole new world opens up before him. He learns how to ride the Unicycle forwards, backward and other wardsJ. He learns how to juggle while riding the Unicycle. He discovers the legendary and mythical Devil stick that seems to be tied to invisible threads in the air, bobbing back and forth in most arbitrary ways. He finds out the secret of the Chinese yo-yo, the "Diabolo" that dances happily up and down the threads you've woven into an intricate web. He travels around the world to find a mighty sage, willing to teach him the art of contact juggling, in which a master may let an infinite number of balls roll around his body as if they traveled in already made up paths as satellites orbiting consistently and in mutual and perfect interaction with the body.

Our friend sometimes returns to earth to inspire the humans. If you want him to teach you the Art of Juggling, search for someone who refers to himself as a JUGGLER.

Jesper Gantelius