Mummy Seymour: Portrait Painter Extra-Ordinaire!

Never one to believe my own suspicions regarding how inept I am at most things, I have chosen to become a portrait painter.

I have told myself – repeatedly – that I can’t paint people. I may be ok at getting a sketch down, which might resemble a person vaguely – a cariacature, if you will. And I can draw purple stick people very nicely, where too much detail would be superfluous. But, I told myself, if only I can actually master faces, I can be like Holbein! If I can use oils, there will be no stopping me!

There are portraits in my family. My mum has several adorning her Victorian walls in gold gilt frames;  there’s Emily, my great-grandmother as a little girl in a green silk dress, with an unimpressed expression upon her round, ruddy face: there’s Emily – her poor dear mother, who she never knew, and then there’s the other Emily – best friend to the aforementioned Emily, and thence stepmother to the first Emily. Don’t ask… it’s complicated!

These three lovely ladies all hang side by side, largely estranged in life, but now dead and united on a wall in Sussex, in perpetuam, watching from on high as their issue and their issue’s issue’s issue play noisily on the carpet below.

There’s something lovely about that!

And you simply cannot tell me that those pictures are just pictures. They are lifelike – a snapshot in time, an essence of a person, painted during their lifetime, during physical (probably tortuous) sittings. The energy from the late nineteenth century is interwoven in the daubs of paint, and adds a reality to the paintings I like to think of as a touch of magic. (And yes, I have seen their eyes move…)

So, ever thrifty, as we all know that we have no money left, I’ve decided that this new branch of the family must all have portraits, only it’ll have to be the affordable option – painted by me! We too shall adorn walls, and we will therefore live forever, gazing haughtily out from a frame, upon generations to come.

And so, my portrait painting career has begun, borne of thrift and supreme confidence . And after few trips to Seawhites, my vocation is underway.

Alas, it’s not going too well so far. I have a collection of faces, ranging from the almost passable to the downright insulting. I’m not sure I could ever offer out my services based upon these gems, but I shall not be dissuaded.

So, on that basis, I shall be taking orders soon! Don’t all rush at once, mind…

(Now, if only I can get hold of Big Seymour’s drill, I can start to create my gallery. Where’s he hidden it..?)