Me, myself, I

I've been painting in my studio this week, which is always a good thing, but lacking a model willing to sit for me, I resorted to trying some self-portraits - something I haven't done for ten years. The last time I had recently turned forty, so it was a pretty sobering exercise to tackle my 50+ image.

The first one I mercilessly and doggedly recorded every wrinkle, bump, sag and bag resulting in a recognisable, but cruel rendition which upset my husband, who thought I had done myself (and him) a deep injustice. The second I tried to be kinder, but still truthful, and it turned out to be a rather boring painting and I'm pretty sure, younger than reality. So maybe I'll keep on trying - I don't necessarily want total accuracy, but I do want something interesting my children might want to hang on their walls one day, without frightening the grandchildren!

I'm probably too impatient to do good portraits - I just have to finish them in one day, and can't bear to go back and fiddle.