As a young child I read voraciously from the fairy-tale books on our bookshelves. There were some from Andrew Lang’s series, some Howard Pyle, an Edmund Dulac, and something called something like Seven Stories of Seven Wishes. But the best fairy-story I ever read came later, from J.R.R. Tolkien: “Smith of Wootton Major.” In it Smith, called Starbrow because of a glowing trinket affixed to his forehead, explores the land of Faery and unknowingly meets, and dances with, its Queen. Tolkien’s Queen of Faery reminds me of a friend of mine.
One with Clay, Image and Text 