When I was nine years old, I remember sitting by our living room window and writing a story on our coffee table. The story was about a genie who ruled four worlds in a bottle. That bottle floated restlessly in space, its impenetrable and magical glass shielding the worlds within from cosmic forces that could cause havoc and destruction.
When I was two years old, the most vivid memory I had was doodling. I remember someone old teaching me how to write. What I did instead was doodle circles on cheap writing pad, the one that had the texture and thinness of newspaper.
When I was twelve years old, I started creating characters with superhuman abilities. One had the ability to fly like a rocket; another had the ability to shoot powerful light rays from his hands; and another one had superhuman strength. For each of these characters I paired them with members of the opposite sex who also had similar capabilities, albeit not as spectacular.
When I was four I already knew what I wanted to be when I grew up: an animator. Dazzled by Popeye, Mickey Mouse and Friends, Thundercats, Transformers, and Mask, and inspired by the success of Walt Disney and Jim Davis of Garfield and Friends, I made a promise to myself that someday I will become a well-known animator. If not, that I will make a fortune out of animation.
At thirty one, I am now working as graphic designer. You'd wonder if I have already forgotten my dreams, these personal legends I desire to fulfill. I haven't. I always see myself fulfilling these dreams, and what I'm doing right now is a stepping stone to what I want to be. For all I know I might have dreamed of what I'm doing right now but because it was never vivid I've completely forgotten about it. Or that I might be living someone else's dream, I'm darn lucky to be living it.
