Something else that I remember vividly was my mothers reaction: she was very impressed with the painting but criticised it because all my figures had black pencil outlines. She told me that I didn't need to draw lines around faces but I said that I had to otherwise everything would fall out!. I was always sick when I was a kid (you still are, ha,ha - the ed.), I spent all my time in bed painting and drawing (no such thing as t.v. in those days) and I recall one afternoon drawing a picture of the biblical Samson, when I was seized by a coughing fit. This ended with great globules of blood covering the board and my masterpiece!. I was so disappointed to see it ruined but my aunts reaction was even more dramatic. I was rushed to the doctor, sent to hospital, diagnosed as suffering with T.B. and ended up in Peamount Sanitorium. I had it for nearly two years and unlike most of my friends in hospital, didn't die, thanks mainly to the efforts of the hospital staff and Dr. Noel Browne who almost single-handedly eradicated T.B. in this country.

In both of the schools that I attended, St. Patricks, Drumcondra and Gormanston College in Co. Meath, my artistic ability was noticed and duly noted and encouraged. In Gormanston I ended up as the editor, writer and chief cartoonist of the college magazine. Around this time I discovered girls and found that they were mightily impressed when I presented them with sketches of their favourite pop stars -I could draw Elvis Presley blindfolded!.