Wesley Ballard's Questionnaire

I was born in Kalamazoo, but moved up to Mackinaw City after my folks kicked me out. At first, it was a move of necessity. Suffice to say, getting the boot from my parents didn't give me a lot of time to apartment hunt, so I asked a friend up there if I could crash out at his place, and he gave me the green light. After a while, though, I admit the city grew on me. The unique shopping districts made for a prime place to do street shows, where I capitalized on my natural talents to scrape by and eventually move out. Mind you, my new place isn't exactly a mansion. Huron Apartments leaves a lot to be desired in terms of luxury, but it's close to everything I care about in the city, so I guess I can't complain. Sitting at an astounding 600 square feet if I round up and sporting a single bed and bath, my apartment isn't much, but it's home.

I used to make my salary strictly off of street performing. Juggling, sword swallowing, balancing acts, you get the idea. But my luck took a turn for the awesome when I got noticed by Grayson, a performer in a traveling show. He put a business card in my tip box, I called him back, and the rest, as they say, is history. Despite my much more stable source of income, I still perform in the shopping districts and historical walking centers when I don't tour with them. Granted, circus juggler doesn't exactly pay a Wall Street salary, so a good deal of my money goes to food and rent, but the rest goes to my hobbies. Mainly, I have a passion for antiques, with old lighters and pocket knives being a particular weakness of mine. The Red Faire and tabletop game culture around Mackinaw City is pretty strong, too, and I can't say I haven't gotten swept up in it by some close friends, so a hefty slice of my funds go towards those, as well. All in all, what I don't spend on necessities goes straight towards fun.

For as long as I can remember, I've had a natural talent for anything requiring dexterity or a deft hand. For most of my youth, that talent got me into nothing but trouble. A talent for sleight of hand, flexibility, and lying lent itself pretty well to stealing things, which worked out well for a while until it didn't. I got caught and, while it was expunged from my record, my parents weren't so lenient. After I got the boot from them and started performing for cash, I found a calling I didn't expect. See, I had always juggled and performed tricks for friends or to impress a girl, but I never had a plan to go anywhere with it. However, after I found my place in the circus, I realized my calling. I realized that I loved performing. On the night of my first big show, hearing the roar of applause, I realized I would do almost anything to hear it again. My dream, in that moment, became to put on the greatest show the world has ever seen, and I would put myself in whatever danger is necessary to do it.

My life changed its course when Grayson's business card slid its way into my tip box. Up until that point, I was content to just bum around all my life, performing in the street during the day and living up my evenings in town or on the lakes. But after I joined the circus, my life turned around, I found myself a purpose that I didn't think I had. Were it not for Grayson, my ambitions would never have come into fruition in the way that they have, I would be content in raking in pocket change from uncaring passers-by, my talents going unappreciated for anything beyond their base spectacle. Without joining the circus, those eyes that fell upon me would have done so out of boredom, observing me simply for lack of another thing more interesting to observe. But when I perform on that stage, the eyes that are fixated on me are there because they want to watch me perform. That crowd that roars as I perform is there to see me. It's a magical feeling that I never would have found had I not called the number on that card.

I've got some pretty special people in my life, for better or for worse. For the sake of good vibes, I suppose I'll stick mostly to the positive for this. Up first, my best friend in the whole world and the single closest person in my life, James Parker, or Jimmy P to the ones that matter. Me and Jimmy met when I was in second grade and he was in 4th, and were thick as thieves ever since. His family moved up to Mackinaw City when I was, but we kept in touch real well. My folks blamed him for how I turned out as a teenager, calling him a "bad influence" or whatever, but I wouldn't trade the trouble we got in together for the world. As a matter of fact, it was Jimmy P who bailed me out when I had nowhere to go after my folks kicked me out. Kzoo to Mackinaw City is a hell of a distance, but he helped me every step of the way and even let me crash out at his place for a while. Honestly, I don't know where I'd be without him.
Then there's Madison. We've been dating for three months now and each date has been better than the last. I usually count myself out as doomed to fail when it comes to love (the allure of juggling to impress a date doesn't usually carry over into a long-term relationship), but something really clicked for me when I met Maddie. We share a penchant for odd hobbies, with my juggling and antique collecting and her obsession with the strangest ways possible of brewing a cup of coffee. We've got enough to get along, but are different enough to keep learning new things about each other.
For this last entry in this little journal, I suppose I should talk about my folks back home, my mother, specifically. She doesn't have some strange talent like my father or myself and never really got my family's culture about it, which I suppose is part of why we never really understood each other. My mother had a lot of faith in tough love and put no stock into the idea of second chances, especially when it came to the many screwups of my youth. Most of the time, my mistakes would earn a hefty punishment from mom that my dad would haggle and argue down to something reasonable, but I guess my break-in stunt was a bridge too far. She was the one who closed the family house's doors on me, despite every effort from my father to convince her that the community work to get my record expunged would be enough. I'm sure the way I talk about her makes me sound bitter, but in her defense, fair is fair, and nobody could have been expected to put up with the shit I did as a kid. And while I'll always be closer to my father, it was my mother's call to kick me out that made me the man I am.

My childhood has had its ups and downs, I got myself into a fair bit of trouble, but my life always found a way to work itself out. Even the downs of my childhood had some kind of fun or joy to them. My dad was always fast and loose with rules and punishment, putting the whole of his faith in the idea that I’d straighten myself out. My mother, on the other hand, always wanted to bring the hammer down on me. On account of my “free spirit”, penchant for skipping class, and habit for landing myself on the wrong side of juvenile law, those conflicts between my parents came up frequently. On the positive side, my antics made me popular in school, with plenty of other kids flocking to me and Jimmy P for a chance to get in on the bullshit. We always shot them down, though. In my childhood, it was me and jimmy against the world. 

I am currently going steady in a long term relationship with the love of my life, Maddie. We met during one of my performances and hit it off almost immediately. I find myself feeling completer by her, her strange hobbies compliment mine, and each and every one of her little mannerisms have the power to light up a room, from her smile and her laugh to the way she worries about me during my shows. As it currently stands, we are working out a plan to move in together and find a bigger apartment with our shared income. Overall, I couldn’t possibly be happier

It's not a topic that I find myself dwelling on too terribly frequently, but if I had to name a single worst fear, it would probably have to be being paralyzed or losing my mobility. As far as worst fears, it's not terribly inspired, but it's the one I have. Sure, I'm afraid of dying and all the standard spooky stuff, but who isn't? On top of that, these "jobs" I've taken up as of late have unlocked a whole new world of fears and anxieties that I would never have even contemplated prior to experiencing the things that I have.But all that being said, there is no fear of mine as deep and as personal as losing my ability to move. I've spent all my life with this incredible flexibility, this gift for acrobatics, and losing that talent terrifies me. Whether it be from a sudden accident from one of my daring performances, a bad day on one of these jobs, or the slow, agonizing decline of age, losing the ability to move with the amount of freedom that I have scares me more than anything else. It's the reason why I practice, train, and exercise every single day, trying as hard as I can to stave off every possible symptom or cause that could potentially bring my worst fear to pass. I practice every single one of my routines to the point that I can do them backward if I so chose, all to reduce the chances of a mistake to a minimum. I exercise and research the best and newest ways to exercise every day to ward off the debilitating effects of age.

I have a habit of collecting, so there are a few items of mine that I would describe as "prized possessions". First on my list would have to be my juggling balls. I have something of a passion for crafts that goes unrequited by my talent for it, but I knew that I wanted the balls I use on stage to be handmade. So, after a long, long run of trial and error, I landed on a size and weight that felt perfect. I got some help from Maddie, who is far more inclined toward arts and crafts than I am, with cutting the panels and designing them, and we spent an evening stitching that up together. The memory of the time spent making them gives me a warm feeling of nostalgia whenever I use them. Second, and a more recent addition, is the bracers that have finally been passed down to me. I don't know where they came from, but they've been in the family for as long as anyone can remember. So the story goes, they came from Greece, but all I know for sure is that there's something special about them. I've spent my entire life looking at them when they were mounted on the wall near the fireplace where I grew up, and to have them now feels like a rare moment of passing on the torch from my family.