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We were poor. But it's very odd, but I never actually realized that we were a poor family un till a few years ago. I know that sounds odd. But we were so loved and cared for that it was never relevant. We just accepted what we had. And my imagination did the rest. I feel so sorry for kids now. They have their imagination sold to them. Pre packaged and franchise ready. I did not have much in the way of artists tools. So I would spend a lot of time painting on the back of a very long piece of wall paper. Or filling a book that my Dad lovingly made for me, out of blank paper with a masonite cover and shoe laces holding it together. (true). I packed my creative side away as I grew older. England has a way of doing that to you. I eventually emigrated to beautiful Santa Barbara in the United States in 1988. I rekindled my love for painting as part of the American 'yes you can do' mind set. It's odd what will come out of your head after being bottled away for so many years. and as long as it continues to give people pleasure (and myself) I will continue to release it .
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