Comic books have always been inextricably connected in my mind with the simple joys of childhood. Leafing through the pages of a comic book, it’s easy to get lost in the fantastical storyline, imagining superheroes swooping in and saving the day when all seems close to lost.
Comic books of yesteryear are places where reality stands still and fantasy can take over. Anything is possible. In adulthood we tend to lose that magic. It’s sad we get hung up on limitations and practicalities. We cease to be incredulous, overwhelmed by the day to day that threatens our ability to imagine.