I remember the exact moment my world flipped upside down. It was 2011, in a cramped Auckland living room after a long day cutting grass in high-end gardens. I'd stumbled onto a YouTube video of a hand balancer—arms like steel cables, body defying gravity in a perfect line, moving with this quiet, ruthless control. No music, no crowd, just the raw poetry of balance. I hit play again, then paused, rewound, studied every flicker of the wrist. That night, I kicked off my boots, cleared a spot on the carpet, and tried it. My arms buckled, sweat poured, but something ignited—a fire that hasn't dimmed in 14 years.


I came from nothing fancy. Born on December 30, 1987, in Patos de Minas, Minas Gerais, Brazil—the oldest of four boys in a lower-class family crammed into a humble house. Mom and Dad worked full-time, scraping by. Public school, no computer or video games at home. One pair of shoes a year, meat maybe once or twice a week. But it wasn't misery; it was real. Childhood meant kicking around with cousins on the roadside after school, or weekends at my grandfather's little farm, chasing chickens and climbing trees. From age 7 or 8, I was watching my younger brothers while parents were out hustling. It made me independent early.
By 13, I was working at a stationary shop after morning classes. At 15, I used that cash to join a gym, paying for myself. Weights felt natural, like my body was built for it. 2007, I bolted to Europe for a couple of years, bouncing around until I met a New Zealand girlfriend. We moved to her homeland in 2010. Started as a gardener, settled in Auckland by 2011. I landed a city council gig mowing public parks—steady, but soulless. That void pulled me into a capoeira group, and then into hand balancing.

In one year of self-teaching in my living room: two-minute holds, 10-second one-arms, presses to handstand. The falls hurt—wrists screaming, shoulders aching—but the breakthroughs were quiet euphoria, like unlocking a secret language of the body. I became "the handstand guy" in Auckland. A call from a circus warehouse offered me a teaching gig. I didn't know what I'd do, but I said yes. Classes packed from day one. Soon I was teaching twice a week, saving every dollar for something I knew I needed—training with the man whose students had first stopped me in my tracks.
"I had the technique. But I needed to understand the deeper side of balance — the art, not just the mechanics."
In 2013, I quit gardening and went full-time as a handstand teacher. Built privates, a community nationwide. The more I shared my practice online, the more people wanted to learn from me. Within a year, I'd saved enough to hit the road — and head to France.


Claude Victoria &
The Art of Handstands
How a five-week apprenticeship in France changed everything.
I arrived at his small house in a quiet village around 2014. No big gym — just worn mats and a lot of history in the walls. Claude Victoria was a circus master from France, older, in his 70s or more, but still full of energy and wisdom. He had shaped generations of top performers in the art of équilibre. He is no longer with us, and the world of hand balancing lost a true legend when he passed.
We trained every day for five weeks, mostly one-on-one. He didn't rush into hard drills. We started slow: standing, feeling the ground, breathing right — before even kicking up. He would say things like, "It's not just holding. It's respecting the line, the breath, the whole moment and how it feels."
"You have the technique. Now add the art."
One day, after many falls on one-arm, he told me that. It stayed with me. He taught me to move like a professional — with calm control and real respect for the old circus tradition. Claude lit the fire. He showed me that handstands are more than strength or tricks. They are about presence, patience, and honoring the practice.

But the full AoH method is not just Claude's ideas. It grew from my own life: 14 years of daily training, teaching thousands of people, fixing my own problems, and learning from every fall and breakthrough. After France, I kept traveling — over 35 countries, 200+ workshops and retreats that filled up year after year. I tested ideas in real classes: hot rooms in Asia, tents in South America, beaches, studios everywhere.
AoH became my system because of all that accumulated experience. It keeps high standards — straight lines, no cheating balance — but makes the steps simple and clear. Levels start with body awareness and fear control, build to long holds and presses, then go deep into advanced work like one-arm. The proof: over 1,000 students from all countries, more than 12,000 hours of teaching, sell-out events for 10 years straight.
Later, I put it all together in the online course with the great author Glen Cordoza. Three years of hard work explaining every detail. Then AoH Level 4 for advanced one-arm in 2024. The Teacher Training Manual in 2026. The AoH book in progress. A One-Arm Online Course coming.
"Claude lit the fire — he showed me the art and the respect. But AoH is what came from my own path: the grind, the travels, the students who trusted me, the times I had to adapt."

A true legend of hand balancing who shaped generations of top performers. His teachings on presence, patience, and respect for the practice became the philosophical heart of AoH. No longer with us, but his influence lives in every class.

Author of Becoming a Supple Leopard, Glute Lab, Rehab Science, and Power Speed Endurance. Three years of collaboration to bring the AoH method into its first comprehensive online course.
What Makes AoH Different
Four pillars. Proven across 35+ countries.High standards from day one. Straight lines, no cheating balance. Your body learns the correct pattern — not a shortcut that creates a ceiling.
Holds that last — not lucky balances. Built through progressive loading, specific wrist conditioning, and training the nervous system to stop fearing inversion.
Claude Victoria's core lesson: presence. The mental side of handstands is not separate from the physical. Tension, doubt, and rushed breath all live in the body.
For the practice, for your body, for the pace of real progress. AoH doesn't sell quick fixes — it builds a lifelong practice that compounds over years.
By 2016, after globe-trotting, I landed in Hong Kong, met Elise Hamilton. She became my anchor in the whirlwind. I based myself there, teaching for Pure Fitness, hosting retreats, coaching yoga teachers across Asia. Stayed till 2019. Married Elise that year, headed to Australia to build a family. Then COVID hit mid-way through a 30-day handstand intensive. Melbourne locked down: 23 hours indoors daily, for months. It forced reinvention — I went online, skeptical at first, but it opened my eyes. More demanding, more precise.


Early 2021, Elise's work brought us back to Hong Kong, and I took the leap: opened my first Invert Handstand Studio. Classes sold out instantly. By 2025, I closed the second studio — time to pivot to more remote teaching and online. That same year brought my son, Koa Santana. Fatherhood added this whole new layer. Priorities shift overnight. My practice has dipped, sure — but it serves me so well now. Pulls me in, clears the fog, gets my head straight.
"My practice has dipped since fatherhood — but it serves me so well now. Pulls me in, clears the fog, gets my head straight. Makes me a better father."
Completed the first AoH Teacher Training Manual in 2026. Looking back, these milestones — from self-taught holds to teaching thousands, from a living room in Auckland to a five-week apprenticeship in France to courses used in 35+ countries — aren't just ticks on a list. They're proof of what obsession and respect for the craft can build. Today, AoH is a complete method that has changed lives, including mine. Start simple, stay committed, and see how it can change things for you too.
Hong Kong.
Based in Hong Kong with wife Elise and son Koa. Still teaching in-person classes, hosting retreats worldwide, and coaching students across 35+ countries online.
For me, handstands are more than skill — they are a lifelong practice in discipline, resilience, and facing fear. Claude Victoria taught me that. AoH is how I pass it on.
If it calls to you, start simple: invert, fall, rise. Let's go.


