Banksy

In 5th grade my father bought me a textbook-size copy of The Hobbit with 48 brightly colored illustrations to lose myself in when my eyes were too tired to continue reading. Before then, I remember liking books.  I enjoyed the Famous Five and the Secret Seven.  I laughed at The Phantom Tollbooth.  I had never been spellbound, dizzy, and confronted with the scope of the world until I followed Bilbo. My 12th grade literature teacher,…