A mentor named Piers Blofeld set me on the journey: on a windy winter afternoon we sought refuge in a tiny tavern, and there he listened to my vision. He wisely counselled me on how to prepare, and found me a place where to start.
A champion named Richard Milbank was with me at every twist and turn, accepting patiently all the detours and the assorted strangeness that comes your way when you travel with someone who aims at making the world weirder.
A companion named Paola Filotico shaped the vision with me, and when I got lost she got lost with me, and when I found my way back it was because of her.
My mother gave me food, my brothers gave me Father Christmas; Ferdinando Buscema taught me the secret of magic; Christina Oakley-Harrington keeps open the door on the sacred; Simon Young knows the way to Faerie; John Milbank reminds me that ‘meaning’ is a meaningful word. Kate Baylay weaved magic, both inside and outside, with her pictures. They were all with me, and to all of them I say a heartfelt thank you.
And I say thank you to my father, too, who left me with Superman so long ago.
It was a good call.