My boyhood days were spent between school and my father's carpentry shop. My interest in both these fields was overshadowed by my insatiable desire to draw. The books from which I was to learn my reading, writing and arithmetic were cluttered with pictures I had drawn on every available blank space. This aroused the wrath of my teachers who showed their unfriendliness. I believe I was allowed to graduate, not because I was an astute student, but because of their desire to be rid of me.
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