Among the commissions for Christmas was a family request to paint a portrait of my sister's beloved childhood pony in the snow. It's a surprise so let's hope she doesn't read this. Like the builder who just can't seem to finish his own house I left my family portrait until last. After all they love me so they'd be happy with some scribbles on a sheet of A4 foolscap right?
However it was with some trepidation that I began this portrait. I could feel the family standing behind me peering over my shoulder, hear their imaginary comments before I'd even started, as they crammed in behind me amidst the general chaos where I paint. I could even envisage my sister's brief look of horror as she opened the present on Christmas morning only to find some scribbles on a sheet of A4. 'I hope you like it!' I'd say brightly.
When I sent the preliminary sketch to my parents the feedback was thankfully short. They liked it. But 'her canon bones are thinner' said my mother. 'Her shins' I said to my partner, 'she says her shins are thinner'. I peered closely with my keen artist's eye. They were clearly fat, hairy and muddy.
I painted in record speed, on antibiotics and tired from a sleepless night with a restless toddler. Drugged up and exhausted, 'just like a proper artist' my partner encouragingly informed me. And they were pleased with the result. Except 'her eyes are bigger' said my mother. I guess that Polly, like many of us, wishes her legs were thinner and her eyes just a tiny bit bigger.
Now the easel is satisfyingly empty, the paintings are with the framer and it's time to think about Christmas shopping!