Friday, March 20, 2009
When I was working on that photo meme last week, I found this pic in my Flickr page.
I wrote and drew these comic books when I was in grade school. (Because it would be very embarrassing if I just wrote and drew these last week.)
JBB were the first letters of my name, my brother's and my uncle's.
I’d use whatever paper I'd find lying around and draw with colored pens and stapled the pages together.
JBB COMICS had three titles back then:
COSMIC MAN, who rode the cosmos in his cosmic ship and fought evil with his cosmic gun and cosmic net and cosmic utility belt.
LIGHTNING HAWK, who got his powers after he was bitten by a hawk that was struck by lightning.
I had a team book called THE COMPUTER CREEPS. They ordinary computer parts that suddenly came alive when they were struck by lightning.(Yes, I wasn't very original back then.) The team was composed of The Monitor, The Keyboard, The Hard Drive, The MicroCHiPs (who rode on little motorbikes), and The Transformer (because the computer was a 110 that needed to be plugged to 220). They would all volt-in and become one big robot called Creepo.
Maybe I should bring these characters back?
Will I really find a publisher who'd want these titles?
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Failure. The mere thought can paralyze even the most heroic thinkers and keep great ideas off the drawing board. But is failing really that bad? We get an inside look at the mishaps of Honda racers, designers and engineers to learn how they draw upon failure to motivate them to succeed. From poor color choices to blown race engines, these risk-taking individuals provide an honest look at what most people fear most. Watch the film and discover the upside of failure.
After I saw that documentary, I remembered this story which I blogged about three years ago.
CHAMPIONS (june 19, 2006)
...we found out today that we lost the Tuseran pitch. That was the other project we were working on for the past two weeks. We really felt that we had a really great campaign and that client would like it. Well, they didn't. This is the second time we're lost a Unilab account in a pitch. Last year, we lost Enervon.
So, on the cab ride back to the office I remembered something my friend Rog once told me. (By the way, it was Rog's birthday last Sunday, so maybe that's the reason my brain clicked that hyperlink in my memory banks.)
I met Rog in the Ateneo High School, where we were classmates from 1986 to 1990. Every year, all the sections would compete in the contest hosted by the Dulaang Sibol, the Ateneo High School's theater group. Whenever we'd join these contest, Rog was always our director and head writer. He always rallied the troops and put "the fire" in our bellies to do our best.
From freshman year to junior year, we always ended up in the finals and always went up against the "A"-class, which was composed of the best and brightest students of each year level. And we always ended up getting second place.
During our fourth year, we once again found ourselves in the final round of the contest and we were up against the "A"-class.
We really thought that was going to be the year we were going to win first place.
It was a tie.
So, we kinda won and kinda didn't.
After the play, every one went back to the classroom to dump the props, change out of costume, and get our stuff, so we could all head home.
Rog congratulated and thanked everyone for giving their best.
He was the last one to leave the classroom.
Walking down the dimly-lit corridor of the high school, he saw the small silhouette of Mr. Pagsanhan approaching him. Mr. Pagsi, as he's more fondly called, is the founder and moderator of the Dulaang Sibol. He also used to be the moderator of the "A"-class during their freshmen year.
Mr. Pagsi looked up at Rog through his thick eyeglasses, smiled and said, "Congratulations!"
Rog shook and his hand and weakly said, "Thanks."
"My A-Boys are good, yes?" Mr. Pagsi asked.
Rog just nodded, too tired and too drained to answer.
"My A-Boys do not know defeat. They are champions."
Mr. Pagsi put his hand on Rog's shoulder and said, "You and your boys know defeat and you know it well." He looked Rog in the eye and declared, "You are more."
Rog said thanks and said good night and they parted ways at the gate.
The bitter taste of defeat is never easy to swallow. But somehow, if we don't let it get the better of us, it makes us stronger.
Thanks Rog. Thanks for that story. Happy birthday, wherever you are.