Great talent is often only a step away from genius. How does one define where one stops and the other starts? The genius' impact on the world can be profound, occasionally in their own lifetime, some long after their deaths. Many remained blind to their own uniqueness; as is often the case, we assume the mental landscape of others is, more or less, the same as our own. Therefore men and women of great talent can live and die without ever feeling they possess something unique, remarkable, something not shared by the bulk of mankind. Yet they manage to invent, create, or perform in a way unattainable by their peers. Does the concentration and dedication their craft demanded bring them any nearer to understanding, at some level, the source of their talent? Did they ever somehow step over the threshold, after deep concentration or at the height of their creativity, even briefly, or without realising it? And if so, did these experiences influence their work or lives?

One of the most beautifully animated films of the 20th century, Pinocchio retold an old Italian children's story, but lost money at the box office when first released. Nevertheless, the film went on to become one of Disney's most popular creations. Click on the hyperlinks to read the amazing parallel between the wooden puppet and the spiritual predicament of humanity, and of the story of Walt Disney himself: his family, his upbringing and his great faith in the power of the imagination.

Believed to be one of the greatest racing drivers, and certainly the most audacious, of the 20th century, Senna had a mystical faith in the existence of another level of mental operation. Read Senna's own account of the astonishing spiritual experience he had while actually qualifying flat-out for a Monaco grand prix, and his comments on faith and religion.

Read how Hendrix, an uneducated, semi-literate musician from the slums of Seattle became the most celebrated popular guitarist of the 20th century, and played to some of the largest audiences ever assembled to hear one man's music. Though many recognise his music, few would be aware of the profound spiritual faith he had, which gave his music an unusual, inspired dimension that has yet to be equalled.

Raised in a New York slum so bad it was named "Hell's Kitchen", Jacob Kurtzburg had no training as an artist and was dogged by financial pressure his entire life. Although he never learned to drive a car or write a cheque, he maintained a superhuman production rate for a period spanning some 45 years, and became the most prolific, imaginative and successful comic writer and artist who ever lived.