Too Little, Too Late
“Each man’s life represents a road toward himself, an attempt at such a road, the intimation of a path. No man has ever been entirely and completely himself.”
― Hermann Hesse
Since childhood, I have always wanted to draw comics. I was immersed in that world entirely, and there’s nothing else that I would rather do for a living. Legend has it that I even thought myself how to read & write by reading comics. I tried, as a teenager, to the best of my abilities, to make it happen. I was even published, some small pieces in local comics magazines, but it never took off properly.
Then, the “life happened”. School, profession, earning money, starting a family, not to mention a civil war happening in my country. Not trying to find excuses here; if I was only a bit more determined, who knows?
These days, while nearing retirement and having a comfortable career and life, I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened with my comics career, if it, indeed, happened? I even tried to start it again, after many decades of absence. Except, there’s no spark in doing that anymore; the thrill is gone, as B.B. King would say.
