I was born in the city of Stoke-On-Trent, England. I grew up in a very loving home. My parents, neither of whom were artists, nevertheless, encouraged me in my interest. It seemed I spent almost my entire childhood drawing and painting. We were quite poor. But oddly, I never actually realized it until many years later. I know that may sound strange. But we were so loved and cared for by our parents that it was never relevant. We just accepted what we had. Only when I was older and started seeing how other people lived did I realize there was even a difference. I didn't have much in the way of tools. A few colored pens and pencils. No sketchbook. So, I would spend a lot of time drawing on the back of long pieces of old, rolled-up wallpaper. I do remember my first sketchbook, actually. It was made for me by my Dad. The pages were from the bus company where my Dad worked, blank on one side and bus timetables on the other. A thin, chipboard cover, with shoe laces holding it together. I filled that book from beginning to end with ideas and sketches. I eventually emigrated...