Of course, over the past couple of years I've become acquainted with his books and his various movie adaptations of such (I love Mirrormask) and this weekend I saw the latest one, Stardust. It was good. Inventive. A very 'Neil' kind of adventure that you can glean came from his crazy, English mind even if
I'm really hoping the next time I'm home that he's loitering around in Acoustic Cafe (because that's where all the tortured artists go to gather inspiration) so I can stare at him from behind ratty, curtained hair.
Hey, the hair obviously helps him. Why shouldn't it help me knock Tori Amos off her pedestal and appoint me his new muse?