My very own Superhero

A superhero who moves more silently than the bat Bruce Wayne, Mr Perseverance comes to your aid at your most dire and helpless moments, often without you noticing that it is he who has pulled you out from that pit of despair. I think he has planted a sensor in some of our brains and hearts (whichever organ you philosophically subscribe to as "you").

I must not forget to mention that Mr Perseverance usually partners other happier superheroes like the HopeGirl (though he no longer speaks with that sad granduncle of his, Myth Sisyphus.) However, when I was introduced to Mr Perseverance this evening, he did not have any of his other superfriends with him.

It was J who introduced us. Mr Perseverance appeared to J at 9pm at the Junction8 Coffeebean, where we have our usual Sunday coffee. I was completing yet another sketch of a train passenger, and J was busy working on his own doodles. There was no conversation between us. But unlike the girlfriend, Mr Perseverance needs not the spoken word. He appeared just as soon as the sensor in J's brain was about to reach the "hopeless" spectrum. Maybe it was all the sugar and caffeine J had consumed, because no matter how stealthily Mr Perseverance moved, J immediately sensed his presence.

Here's the quick portrait of Mr Perseverance by J:

Mr Perseverance Fights My Enemies - sketch by J
click to view larger pic

As you can see from this picture, Mr Perseverance is an old man - his teeth have all fallen out, leaving his closed mouth looking like a wrinkled prune or a zip. An admirer of the Masked Rider, Mr Perseverance has a similar getup and pose; his feelers are used to detect those "help me" signals from our sensors and his victorious outstretched arm is a quiet encouragement to us. "Power, buddy, power," his arm says. His eyebrows are knit in determination. Despite his age, Mr Perseverance has been working out (eh, persevering) at the gym. He keeps his muscles, though already shrinking and tired, in their little well-defined pockets. Behind him is the "exit", but the door he is really looking for says "enter". As for his battlefield, go figure or ask J.

I hate to rely on Mr Perseverance, but when you are past 30 and not quite sure what your next move should be, there is little choice but to strike the pose, whisper "pow-were, pow-were"...and just keep going.

[p/s sorry if this post is too obscure or depressing to welcome a Monday with. But I found J's sketch strangely funny and sad at the same time to not pin it up, or empathise with.]