n a very warm August morning in 1965, I found myself lugging a large black portfolio of my charcoals, pastels and ink drawings up three flights stairs to meet with the director of The Montreal Museum of Fine Arts School of Art and Design. My preoccupation had been with my skiing career and not with my art hobby while in my teens. For about seven months of each year I had been involved with teaching skiing and running a number of ski schools. It was because of my involvement with skiing that I was a little too casual about enrolling in art school and hence was late registering.
    Arthur Lismer had been head of the museum's art school for a number of years and his reputation as a leading Canadian artist and a surviving member of Canada's Group of Seven was well known. There he was looking larger than life, waiting for me at the top of the sun filled stairwell. It had to be a hundred degrees in the old art annex where Dr. Lismer's office was located and by the time I hit the third floor with artwork in tow, I was soaked with perspiration. At this point I am now hoping that I will be accepted into this well known art and design school and I grew a little more uncomfortable as I revealed the contents of my portfolio.
    Arthur Lismer spent quite a bit of time studying the pieces I had brought in. He made his quips and comments about my subject matter but was over all quite complementary. As the good doctor helped me put my sketches away he said, "unfortunately it is late for registration and first year is full". The conversation then switched to suggestions of how to work on the talent I had. I then thanked him for his time and proceeded down the stairs. As I hit the bottom step, Dr. Lismer leaned over the railing and shouted, "I never said there was no room in second year".
    The following years I spent in art school would turn out to be more a lesson in life than the fundamentals of learning how to paint.