The earlier photo of Richard and me playing with a plastic airplane is so early that I don't have a clear recollection of the incident. I must be around 3 in that photo, but my memories of that house on Hastey Avenue are primordial and impressionistic.
Later, when our family moved to 22 Rideau Terrace, we started drawing habitually (every day during the vacations, and pretty regularly as well during the school year). We used a Danish coffee table that was in the living room. I remember the table itself -- it was sort of arty, but, because it was chipped, I didn't think it was as cool as the furniture in my friends' houses. At one point the table was repainted. This might be the new paint-job here.
We were into comics. That was art for us -- that and a series of one-off sketches ... monsters, tanks, superheroes, and so forth. I was more interested in funny comics and war comics (larfs or history), Richard was more enthralled by action (the re-making of the self; the pumping up of the body into a new and invincible self).
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