Before I attended elementary school we were displaced by a hurricane in Louisiana and moved back to the Carolina's with little more than the shirts on our backs. This was way before FEMA was anything much more than an idea on the drawing table, as there wasn't any real significant help for those victims of disaster in the mid fifties. One of the few toys I got to play with that we could afford on the family farm were the pencils and
paper my grandfather had to keep books with as he bought enough
paper and pencils at harvest time to last the whole year till next harvest.Many the time I would pass my time at the kitchen table with a pencil and
paper drawing my imaginary world to occupy myself. By the time I reached junior high school things had changed alot for the better and I got the chance to attend art classes at a local boys club in the neighborhood my dad had moved to with his new factory job at the local cigarette plant.One summer when I was 14 my dad made me go to work for a local
sign painter to keep me off the streets and out of trouble unlike the other kids in our poor lower class neighborhood.
By the time I reached high school I was drawing pencil portraits that I was selling to friends and family and painting
signs part time. In my next to last year of high school I was one of two hundred students in my state to be chosen to go to the Governors School for academically gifted and talented students and then from there with scholarships for art school at a state university after high school.
I guess you could say I was creative as a kid,...