Last week, I did a demonstration of my ink and watercolour wash work for one of our last cal art clubs. I don't suppose that I will be doing many more. It's my age you know. One of the questions which was put to me was, "How long have you been painting?". I replied that the earliest piece of work which I still had in my possession, was dated November 1939 and I had found it in between the leaves of my mothers bible when she died. I was five years old when I did it, and I can remember sitting at the kitchen table and copying the picture from the tin which had once held Quality Street Toffee. My mother obviously thought it worth keeping and she always encouraged me in my efforts. I would have been about eight years old when I received my first ever art instruction from an artist who lived in the village, a fellow called Dan Binns. The tuition cost sixpence for an hour and a half. That lasted for about a year but I can still recall some of the lessons. E.g. Cows are best drawn with straight lines, horses with curved lines. Dan was a clever man. He'd exhibited in the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition. How do I know that? Well, several years ago I bought a couple of his watercolours over the telephone and on the back of one of them, is a label which informs me that it was shown at the Royal Academy in 1944. Incidently, Dan's son David, who went to school with me, became an artist in his own right. His speciality was (and still is) wild life. But the person who really got me hooked on painting and drawing, was my Art Master at Keighley Boys' Grammar School - a fellow by the name of Harry Harpin. Art, a double period lesson, was regarded by the pupils as a 'play lesson'. Doing well in art didn't carry the same kudos as doing well in maths or chemistry, the subject was dropped after the third form unless you were in the D form in which case it was one of the subjects taken in Scool Certificate. I made sure that I was in that stream. I well remember Harry speaking to the lads in the form immediately prior to the long summer holiday. He encouraged us not to waste our time but to get onto our bikes, get a sketch book and keep a pictorial record of were we'd been. I did as was suggested for a couple of days then the advice was forgotten. Just think! If I had followed his advice seventy years ago, I might have been as famous as Turner! I failed to get an art related job when I left school and I made my career in local government. I concentrated on obtaining qualifications, did my two years national service, got married and raised a family. It wasn't until I was asked by a work colleague if I'd like to become a member of the art club that I renewed my interest in art. I so enjoyed it that I d cider in hat I would like to thank Harry Harpin for his encouragement all those years previously. Where was he? Was he still alive? An old school friend told me that Harry had given up teaching and become a Catholic priest but he didn't know where. The priest at the local Catholic Church in the town where I now live came up trumps. I gave him what information I had and within twenty four hours a letter slipped through my letter box containing an address - an address in Assisi, Perugia, Italy. Harry was working in the basilica in Assisi, surrounded by the paintings of Giotto and other Italian masters. Not knowing whether he would remember me, I wrote a letter, in which I thanked him for instilling the interest in art in my mind all those years ago and telling him of the pleasure I was getting from painting. In particular I made reference to the fact that I was using a sketch book regularly. Within a couple of weeks, I had a reply - a wonderful letter which I still have. Sadly, the next letter I wrote came back unopened. Harry had died shortly after writing to me.