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.

I embarked on my studies by obtaining a Job at an interior decorator's studio. My wish, however, was to go to an art school but this was impossible because my parents felt that a fifty-cent daily expenditure was an extravagance for a hobby in which the...