When I awake one of the first things I see when my eyes adjust to daylight, is a 10 years younger version of me staring straight back. No, I am not so brave that I dare to gaze directly into a mirror, it would surely reveal the horror that I attempt to conceal with natural looking day make-up. It can only be the other plausible option; that being the family portrait hanging in our home gallery. Interestingly, this could be perceived as being even more narcissistic than observing ones reflection in a pool of water and subsequently dying.
Surely everyone nowadays owns a family portrait painted on a canvas in acrylic (102cm x 76cm), covering an otherwise blank space in their home?
If not, get that project on your 'to do' list.
It's quite scary to be honest but does capture us at a specific time in our lives, as a photograph does, but this remains unfiltered and raw, just how I like it. We four sit together on our second-hand sofa in the living room. From left to right we are: Still midlife crisis; myself, no fringe then and obviously wearing an ill-fitting bra; Mini-Me, cuddling the school teddy bear, now upgraded to the infamous Teenage Dirtbag title; Still Romeo, (can't change that one either), looking very stern and grumpy, probably due to what appears to be a dislocated elbow; daughter dirtbag, now blossomed into Psych Undergraduate, perched mischievously on the sofa arm.
A young talented artist painted the portrait for us from a photograph. We could not sit still for that long. He was one of Romeo's students when he taught art at the local high school. I am desperately trying to get a James Joyce reference in here but think it may be too contrived. We bought our beloved Rusty from the same young man in more recent history.
Rusty currently sits in the garage after being stood still for far too long during lockdown. We all identify with that feeling don't we? She got clamped and un-clamped within an hour one harrowing day, after we forgot to tax her because she had a flat battery. Now legally roadworthy again she needs a new accelerator amongst many other things, including some welding and touching up. Well to be honest she could do with a full blown paint job. Hopefully now you can understand why we are not a pet owning family. I feel a bizarre physical symmetry with Rusty as there are indeed more and more body parts for me to worry about and keep in decent working order at this delicate stage of midlife.
We didn't know where to hang the portrait at first; it seemed to dominate in the living room, yet got lost on the landing. And so it ended up in the loft at the very top of our house. When I study the painting now I have flashbacks through time at high speed. The layers of colour and brush strokes recreate pictures in my mind of adventures already had and summon visions of how I should have been more prepared for coping with teenagers. I have reached the conclusion that it's really just about clinging on tightly to the mast while trying not to fall overboard. Bravely weathering the many frequent and often turbulent storms coming directly at you full force without any warning whatsoever. HELP, HELP ME, SOMEONE HELP ME!
Perhaps try something exhilarating like skydiving or swimming with sharks to remain focused and on high alert. That is, if you can abandon the family ship for an hour or two when the waters are surprisingly calm.
Still dance and sing whenever you can.
With love xx
