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I was born to two people who had nothing to do with the circus. Even since my baby times in a stroller, I've been falling on my head with unerring aim, certainty and regularity. This turned out to be a key life skill of mine. Later, already on my own two feet, I discovered a love of running against the

tide, crowds, wind and even walls.


In primary school, I wasn't great at math and was reprimanded for using inappropriate language at school. In secondary school I was taught how to write with all ten fingers, but rather than doing that me and my friends organized cigarette parties in the male bathroom resort. My venture into martial arts ended in a surprising discovery about myself – I'm a pacifist. Maybe today, more of a hippy, I'd say. Only one interesting thing happened at that time - I began to flirt with the idea of being a professional showman.

Fortunately, that idea stayed with me.


Instead of serving the military, I went to serve humankind on a hippo-therapy farm in the district madhouse, and my arrival to work on a unicycle startled our horses. With straw sticking out of my shoes, I enjoyed the taste of sweat and smelled the spirit of the circus.


Then someone mistook me for someone else and made me an offer to be a part of the Continuo Theatre. With my new home being a caravan and rehearsing in the big top somewhere at the end of the world, my life finally started to resemble the life I had dreamed of. After a year of experience with the community theatre, I had had enough of community theater and went to study documentary filming for three years. But after my successful battle for my bachelor's degree I found out that stuffing a camera into people's faces isn't nearly as satisfying as being a creepy ballet dancer with flying knives and burning torches.


That's how the rascal Shashik woke up.

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Before I Became an Artist, My Way Was Uncertain
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