Childwickbury Wake

Toby's brother Simon read out some of the family memories of Toby:

"Toby was many different things to many different people. One of the challenges for those organising this event is that it is so difficult to do justice to all the things that made Toby the person he was. You can't cover it all in a couple of hours. Actually, thirty-seven years wasn't enough either.

But if he was complex and multi-faceted, we also believe that you could see there were qualities and characteristics present in the boy that also made the man. From the time he was born, he was an object of adoration. As you may know, Toby was to explore many different hair colours and configurations during his life; what you may not know is that most of his experiments in hair were simply an attempt to regain the glory days of his early life, when strange women would waylay him in his pram and beg to stroke the halo of white-blond curls he was born with.

From the first, he was unconventional. In our view, his determination to do things his own way was instrumental in helping him to survive his cancer for as long as he did. But from his earliest days, he could light up a room with humour, charm and mischief. You've got to remember that he was the youngest of a noisy family of six, fighting to have his voice heard above some pretty big crowd noises.

One strategy for dealing with this would be to climb high and perch on shelves, the top of the piano, and other vantage points. This gave him a view of proceedings and a more powerful platform or podium for getting his points across. It also started a lifelong enthusiasm for high places and big drops.

The other trick for commanding attention - this time on a more individual basis - was to say, "Look at my eyes!"

Toby's artistic sensibility and creative spark were evident from the very outset, but again his picture-making was typically unconventional. He never started with an outline sketch or overview of the composition. He would start with one detail, like an earlobe or a nostril, and then build outwards to draw a whole battlefield. This was quite unnerving to watch, because you couldn't see where it was coming from: it was almost as if the images were being printed directly from his imagination - and so they were.

The content of Toby's pictures, too, was never straightforward. Even when the subject was not mythic or science-fictional, there would be a surreal or humorous twist to the composition. In conveying what he saw - he always included a sense of how he saw it. This made his artistic vision unique and individual.

As far as we could see - and still believe - drawing and painting and making art were the instinctive way in which Toby engaged with the world. It was neither a hobby nor a profession, but an indispensable part of life, like breathing or talking to animals.

Toby loved dogs. It was quite easy to see why he loved Elmo, because, well, who wouldn't? But Toby loved all our family dogs, too, some of whom failed to trouble the scorers when it came to cuteness or affability. Once Toby came home from school unexpectedly - he probably felt that he had met his objectives for the day even if the final bell hadn't rung - and no-one was in the house. He settled down, inside the kennel with Cob, and that's where they were both found some hours later, sound asleep and snoring.

It wasn't just dogs, either. He used to pick up bumble bees and carry them from the front garden to the back garden, maybe because that's where the best flowers were, maybe because he liked all his friends to be together. They never stung him, apart from once, when he tripped over in transit. Even then, he didn't see it as the bee's fault. He was simply going too fast."

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