That Which We Cannot See
I recently painted a self portrait for my wife’s birthday. While considering the composition and clumsily trying to set up a pair of mirrors in my studio, it occurred to me that I am more than a little unfamiliar with the back of my head. I adjusted the mirrors so that I would have a view from directly behind. I found that I have an interesting head. Who’d have guessed?
I have a 55 year old’s lived-in face, I would describe my looks as unusual. I lost my hair as a young man and grew a beard as compensation in my mid twenties. I’ve broken my nose twice and my cheekbone once which has skewed my features somewhat. In addition I have a large pair of ears which stick out determinedly to ruin my otherwise streamlined appearance (it does allow me excellent hearing, however).
My eyes are deep set, and an odd colour too. My wife says they change with the weather from green to blue to grey. I catch a flash of mustard in them sometimes, in the right light.
I should explain, I am a serial portraitist, this wasn’t a one off whim. I trained as an artist, illustrator and designer in the early eighties and have been drawing (mostly nudes) ever since. A few years ago I decided to try my hand at portraiture in oils and, after several attempts at guinea pig friends and a couple of courses with an established artist, I feel like I might be starting to get somewhere.
