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Jun. 2nd, 2012 11:27 amMy father, my hero, and my best friend. At least until he turned his back on me....
He was my father for the first half of my life. He's the one that raised me, and out of everyone in my life, he was the most influential. He did the majority of shaping of who and what I am. Mostly, he fostered in my a deep love and appreciation for all things sci-fi and fantasy.
I learned to read from comics. And they were his comics. My first heroes were characters like Conan. Or Vampirella.
A late night HBO bootleg of Heavy Metal the movie. On a VHS tape fraying on the edges like your favourite pair of jeans. The wonder and excitement of "What If?" as we answered the riddle of steel or saved topless space queens from the clutches of mad robotic wizards. Saving the day, being the hero, and riding off into the sunset on a hoverbike.
Eight years old and my head lost in the stars. Questioning everything around me and finding answers in places like OMNI magazine. To this day, I'm the same deep down inside. Just look at my bookshelf. Check out my sketchbook. My influences are waving like a goddamned flag.
He loved science fiction, he loved fantasy, he loved the far east. He loved with the same heart as I did. The glorious joy of being a child.
Teddy was a martial arts teacher with one pupil. He taught me both sides of this art. He taught me how to strike with my fist, and with my mind....
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