Design is enchantment | COLLINS

M y father had a stroke last year, but he survived it well due to a combination of good luck, good timing, and good doctors. When I arrived at his house in Florida as he was recovering, he gave me a gift: the book The Art of Mickey Mouse. He said, “You always loved Mickey Mouse, Brian. So do I. As an artist, I thought you’d really like this.” I did. One of my first memories of a gift from my dad was a Mickey Mouse marionette made by the Pelham Puppet Company from Marlborough, England. I was 7 years old. He left it at the end of my bed. I found it when I woke up. When I brought it downstairs to breakfast, my dad said: “Oh, I see you found your new friend. He said he was looking for you.” He paused. And then addressed the puppet in my hand, directly. “Good morning, Mickey.” My father did not refer to the thing in my hands as a doll, as a marionette, as a puppet, or as a toy. He was simply…“Mickey.” He was both real and unreal. At that age I chose to believe that the animated world existe

M y father had a stroke last year, but he survived it well due to a combination of good luck, good timing, and good doctors. When I arrived at his house in Florida as he was recovering, he gave me a gift: the book The Art of Mickey Mouse. He said, “You always loved Mickey Mouse, Brian. So do I. As an artist, I thought you’d really like this.” I did. One of my first memories of a gift from my dad was a Mickey Mouse marionette made by the Pelham Puppet Company from Marlborough, England. I was 7 years old. He left it at the end of my bed. I found it when I woke up. When I brought it downstairs to