I think it was interesting that when you're in those formative years you respond to things that interest you and don't always know where they lead. But they accumulate and add up to something that enriches your later life or leads you to some new experience.

I developed friends in the community that were in walking distance or a bicycle ride away, so that I socialized and did a lot of things that children do in their early years.

One association with the arts that I vividly remember was a magazine called Normal Instructor, a teachers' magazine, that Miss George would hold up with illustrations of great artworks like [Vincent] van Gogh and Rembrandt [van Rijn].

I graduated in June 1948 and then went in the fall to the art school. I stayed with my cousins on Seventeenth Street in the beginning, and later had my own apartment very near there and was able to walk to the Art Institute on Elmwood Avenue. The school had a faculty of local artists - Jeanette and Robert Blair, James Vullo who were well known in the area. It was a school that I think thrived on returning GIs, as many schools did at that time. It was a very informal program - but it was professional.

Charles Burchfield would look at what you were working on and not say anything for several minutes. Then he would very sensitively respond - "Well, have you thought about?" or "Might you consider?" I respected that so much because I thought he was so sensitive to my work, and didn't want to offend me, but in the right way to encourage me.

Even today, the bigger the city, the better. That's why I live in New York.

Being born in '31 was during the Depression and in my earlier youth World War II took place - so it was not the best of times, and yet I don't recall ever having experiences that were a burden.