For decades I have wanted to write stories and paint pictures about my childhood. I've made many attempts, but with little sucess. Many old photographs have survived, particularly of my parents visiting me in hospital and Chailey Heritage. In the early ones, I'm very ill. Nearly all of them show big smiles and hugs. Memories tell  it differently. Copying photographs can be pointless and dreary. But recently, while doing just that, something unusual happened. As I was drawing, I kept asking...

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