Good night, Good weekend

 

Pathways

I write and draw since I was a child.

I used to write stories, little poems and draw comics.

When I was 10, I had my monthly comic book and I never lost the deadline.

When I was 15, I bought an accoustic guitar and then an electric bass with my small salary - I did AutoCad drawing in my dad's engineering firm in the afternoon.

I thought I would be in a great band. Me and a couple of friends tried, but the fact was that they could play reasonably well and I couldn't at all.

Nevertheless, during a few years I used to create song lyrics, and developed neural pathways, I guess, for metric and rhyme. (And almost 30 years later, I learned to create my own little midis as a pleasant and healthy hobby)

When I realized I wasn't going to be a musician, I decided I wanted to be a cartoonist or a writer.

But, I had to work. I was never able to stay in college for more than two years, for one reason or another, but I had a job.

I worked in 3 firms - one for 8 years - that made digital images for architectural projects. I basically received a 2d project, made a 3d model and passed along for someone to make the final render. Every day, non stop, with a lot of overtime. And I liked it.

But I kept drawing comics. One time, I got out of the job and took a workers right check to draw a comedy graphic novel, stuck in my little 35 m2 apartment.

I was drawing old fashion, ink in paper. When I was in page 60 more or less, I got an administrative job for the municipality education, and slowly left the graphic novel behind.

Then I left that job and went back to the old one.

As for the graphic novel, I ended up throwing it away because I realized it wasn't the real me being expressed there, I was a little desperate to find something that everybody would think was cool.

But the skills were acquired. Including an unexpected one. At some point, I decided to fill the story with scientific jokes, and realized I could, slowly and patiently, understand a bit of science through books.

There are people who write and say things to help us to follow our dreams. There are many of them, and the good ones can really motivate you at some points, but in the end I learned, looking back to all my life story, that the real energy you need is inside you.

I came by myself to the idea of learning how to program software, which helped me so much.

I also had the idea, out of nowhere, to try to be a math teacher.

Also, I had ideas that I changed, but I also had the principle of not rushing into political ideologies - isn't it all very weird when you see how the big press behaves?

One day, I had the idea of considering the natural reserves of different regions as a primordial factor in the game of power after the second industrial revolution and in the age of combustion, instead of just looking at abstract and volatile numbers.

I was the kind of kid that liked to imagine myself in the situations I heard about, and imagine that I would stand on the right side.

I don't like to talk about it much, but God knows ever since I was a kid I am absolutely horrified by the Holocaust. 

And that October 7th aterrorized me.

Anyway, in a literal fever, back in 2015, I decided by myself to start my comics blog and not keep my ideas just inside myself forever. And that's how this got started.

And with so much disapointment - and mercenaries - coming from so many sides, I believe in my heart that someday I would inevitably... find the place where I am now. Or the place would find me.

Fresh Air (poem)

 

I walk around, i hear a lot

Of a new theory that explains

That you and I are in a plot

Like morphine to their veins

As if we were, and they were not

The ones who just had to create

A world where facts are put to wait

And open space for little lies

But then I take it to your eyes

They clear the slate

When You Mean Nothing To Your Source ( a mathematical poem )

A couple years ago,

I told you that X was happening

Someone said it was impossible,

that X could never happen.

You believed him.

Turned out that X was true.

Then that same person

with the same tools

told you that X had been,

briefly,

but was no more.

You believed, of course.

Turns out X is obviously still there.

( and your source obviously knew it all along )

Now I was trying to get you to see

the logical consequences of X.

But you're still there

in that same old place, right?

Good luck.

Worth Fightinh For

The Truth About The Company (poem)

A little deal

makes things a little easy

Until your hands, they get so greasy

That nothing seems quite real

He is of my Tribe

https://www.instagram.com/p/C255ZuYMke1/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==