As a kid, I pretty much got nothing but scorn, and occasionally active animus, for writing fantasy and squirreling it away in my closet and, later, under the mattress supports in my bed.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I am a closet toy freak. I started chasing after some things as far as Star Wars toys - some very rare stuff.
As a child, I was always playing some generic child.
As a child, these colourful superheroes that could fly, or were horrifying like Ghost Rider and the Hulk, with this tremendous rage or these supernatural powers, provided an escape for me from my mundane existence, from my lack of friends or my inability to communicate well with people. They liberated me.
For some reason, I wrote about the bed we slept in when I was a kid. It was a half-acre of misery, that bed, sagging in the middle, red hair sticking out of the mattress, the spring gone and the fleas leaping all over the place.
When I see my kids totally into their Legos, it brings me back to the days I was hanging out and playing with my monster models. It brings me there in a second.
I bought tiny infant onesies while still in college and compiled a killer toy collection throughout my 20s and 30s.
As a kid, I loved any fantasy.
My mom told me I never had enough Tonka toys when I was growing up.
When I was a young actor, in my first apartment, the first thing I bought was a Steinway piano. There was no bed at first. I slept on the floor.
When I was a child, I was always nicking my mum's jewellery to wear, and I loved to drape a massive Chinese shawl around me from our fancy-dress box. I was obsessed with a feather and rabbit-fur collar from the age of three and attempted to make one with my friend, whose father was a gamekeeper.