For years, Tarantadong Kalbo lived quietly on screens. Short strips, familiar silhouettes, a voice that felt personal even when it spoke about public issues. Seeing that work grow beyond online comics and become part of a national conversation still gives Kevin Raymundo a moment to pause.
“Watching my work evolve from online comics into a national conversation is a privilege,” he says. It is a moment he no longer downplays. There was a time when he felt the need to keep his achievements small, to perform a version of humility that would not disrupt the present state of affairs. That mindset has shifted. “I’m done playing small,” Raymundo admits. He is proud of what he has built, fully aware of the reach it now carries, and ready to take on the responsibility that comes with being heard.
That reach has also reshaped how he understands influence. For Raymundo, influence is not abstract. “Influence is power,” he says plainly. It is the reason, he notes, why voices like his are often targeted. Suppression does not always come quietly. It can arrive through smear campaigns, personal attacks, or the looming threat of red-tagging. Recognizing influence, for him, means recognizing its weight and choosing not to retreat from it. “I am no longer just an observer,” he says. “I understand the weight of my voice, and I refuse to let it be silenced.”
With that clarity comes a different way of measuring success. Virality and loud discussions still matter, but they are not the final measure. Raymundo looks beyond numbers. “If I can move even one person to take action, that’s half the battle won,” he explains. What matters more is conversion. “But when you convert a skeptic? That’s the gold standard.” Success, in his view, depends on intent. Impact is not always visible in metrics. Sometimes, it shows up quietly, in changed minds and decisions made off-screen.
Lately, the work itself has begun to shift. Raymundo has been less visible, not from disengagement, but from transition. “I’ve been quiet lately because I’m in the middle of a major shift,” he shares. His focus has turned toward painting, with plans for a solo show later this year if all goes well. Comics remain part of his practice, but he has stepped back from the convention circuit to prioritize his health.
That decision has opened space for something new. The pause has allowed him to explore longer-form and more personal storytelling, moving into genres like horror that sit outside the political commentary and nostalgia many associate with his work. The format may be changing, but the impulse remains the same. “The medium is changing, but the stories are just getting started,” he says.
Looking ahead, Raymundo hopes audiences understand the person behind the pen name. “If Tarantadong Kalbo has taught us anything, I hope it’s that I’m a real person,” he reflects. There are limits, and learning to respect them has become part of sustaining the work. “I’ve realized I can’t do everything at once, and right now, I need to focus on getting better so I can keep creating.”
The message is not one of retreat, but of renewal. He is grateful to those who have stayed with him over the years. “The tank isn’t empty,” Raymundo says. “I’m just refilling it.” What comes next is not an ending, but a continuation. There is more to be said, and more to be shown. And when the time comes, he is ready to share it.
