Belief

9/7/2016 update: I wrote something about a friend. I was thinking I could make a profile or a feature. I think if I were to do it again, I would use a lot of prewriting strategies to help develop his image a lot further.

2/4/2013

Once upon a time, I found a young boy named Alexander.

He said he was ready to admit that he was never really good at anything, yet it was only then when he’d called himself out as just another case of a failure of a life, a student and a son, that he’d found out that he was worth anything at all. To him at this time, anyway, but eventually, to some others.

He started out with a bunch of illustration, impressions of Death Note characters, along with some occasional corny “shooting stars” posters. “Gun Out” was the first.  I reckon he would probably look down in embarrassment for me ever mentioning this, but he was definitely putting his work out there. He was often praised for his clean line-art. Criticized for foreshortening and anatomy issues.

But more than anything, though, was this peculiar feeling that this Shirow Miwa fan from the Philippine Ragnaboards would make something more out of his sore life drawing Japanese comic book characters. You might say that I “predicted” that he was going anywhere. My conviction was too strong to be just a tentative attitude towards another’s work, though (hold on, I’ve gotten a little too hungry). This person did not deserve that tentative attitude from me or for anyone. He deserved to have someone believe that certainly, this boy will go places.

Boy did he. But he had to earn those places.

[1] Maybe someday I’ll write better. Someday I’ll read this again and say: y’know, someone who "feeds you McDonald's" in stark afternoon daylight and picks you up from a rut to “give you a black eye” to wake you up and lecture you about deservingness and belief and worthiness deserves more than this muck-job.