I grew up reading the X-Men.
They were a staple of my early childhood which would later became a pillar of my adolescence.
Comic books grew from a quirky hobby to a consuming addiction. And you know what? There was nothing bad about them.
In the end, yeah, it did drain my weekly earnings, but I like to think those twenty-some page ‘funnies’ (after ads) were the building blocks for my overactive imagination and the cornerstone for my interest in figure drawing.
When I was in junior high, my favorite title - which I kept an almost complete run of since it’s launch - was the adjective-less X-Men.
Now, what I liked about it was that by the mid-nineties there such a firm, yet open-ended back-story that each new writer could develop their own continuity-adhering plot-lines in the most elegant of ways. Aside from this, every single team member had been so thoroughly fleshed out (by Claremont and the likes), that they, to me, were more real than past presidents or notable public celebrities.
One of my favorite, oft-bastardized quotables came from Wolverine. I’ll save the explanation of who Wolverine is, as his character, to my knowledge is quite the household name these days.
See, Wolverine would have the habit of - not necessarily being arrogant - but just telling like it was. He would say, in his gruff, time-worn Canadian accent (or so I imagined) - “I’m the best there is at what I do. And what I do isn’t very nice.”
I could do without the latter part, you see.
It seems for what has been the longest time that I’ve used that mantra - “I’m the best there is at would I do” - to construct the end goals of my personal aspirations.
In everything that I wish to partake in, no matter what it is, I am not comfortable settling for mediocrity.
I so desperately want to be the best there is at what I do in all that I set out to accomplish.
I have yet to decide if this is a bad thing or not. But I know that reaching for this goal feels right.
But please understand, in no way am I saying that I am the best there is at what I do…
yet.