Teacher; Born August 10, 1923; Died August 28, 2008.

Dorothy Smith, who has died aged 85, was a teacher who overcame a life- threatening condition to complete her career and become a well-known character in Glasgow's west end and on the central belt art scene.

There can be few instances of a person lying in bed totally paralysed, who, on being told by her surgeons that she will never walk again, retorts "yes I shall" and astounds them by continuing to live a full and productive life for many years.

Smith was born in Partick. Her father was a mechanical engineer and her mother a school teacher. She had two step-sisters from her father's previous marriage and an older sister, Rose, and younger brother Alastair, who both became doctors.

All the children were educated at Hyndland School, where Smith excelled at art before entering Glasgow School of Art in 1940, changing from painting to design, specialising in embroidery and weaving.

As it was wartime she spent many nights firewatching on the school roof, and during the holidays worked in forestry in the Trossachs and Argyll.

On completion of the course in 1944, she was awarded the Newbery Medal for distinction in diploma work, the top award for the year. This in itself was a rare achievement, as the medal was usually won by a student from the fine art department.

After teacher training at Jordanhill College, she taught at Glasgow's Whitehill School from 1945 to 1949 and lectured embroidery evening classes at GSA. But it was while at the city's St Rollox School in 1950 that an event occurred that was to transform her life.

Cutting her finger while clearing out art room cupboards caused a fever, the severity of which was not recognised by her GP. On being told by her mother of the situation, her sister rushed over from Pollokshields and on seeing Smith immediately called an ambulance.

Infection had given rise to an epidural abscess, which caused total paralysis. This was the start of more than two years as a patient, mainly in the neurological surgery unit at Killearn Hospital. She told her surgeons that if they could restore function to the thumb and index finger of her right hand, she could still use a needle.

This they managed to achieve in both hands, through several groundbreaking tendon transfers and plastic surgery operations; however, her other fingers remained clawed. Other operations and her fortitude enabled Smith eventually to regain mobility.

After her recovery another battle commenced, now against the bureaucracy of the education department, to convince them that she was physically fit enough to resume teaching. This was achieved in 1956, when she was appointed to Hamilton Crescent School, followed by Hyndland School until she retired.

Her innovative methods and her enthusiasm stimulated countless pupils who otherwise would have had little interest in anything to do with art. Many remember her as a firm but fair disciplinarian.

Smith loved to travel. On a holiday to China in 1979, a hiccup in her itinerary caused her to land in Tehran at the height of the revolution against the Shah of Iran. Not having the correct papers, she was surrounded by armed guards and accused of being a spy. She was eventually released, but one wonders who was more scared of whom.

Nearer home she was a kenspeckle figure in her colourful clothes at degree shows and art exhibitions, where her exuberance and support was well received by many a student. In her home, her enjoyment of colour surrounded her, with pictures and hangings covering the walls from floor to ceiling and objets d'art taking up every surface.

Smith was an active member of Kelvinside Community Council, where her healthy disrespect for authoritarianism benefited the local residents.

She never complained about her own condition, and showed only concern for others. Her mobility gradually worsened, and she needed a wheelchair to get out and about.

Towards the end of her life, with increasing pain necessitating the amputation of one and then the other leg, her view was that as she could no longer walk, they were of no use to her.

Her will to live and to recover was still strong but physically her heart was unable to cope. Her colourful and inspiring presence will be missed by the wide range of people, of all ages, with whom she came in to contact throughout her life.

ROBERT K H CUNNINGHAM