I understand that when Her Maj has her portrait painted, it often requires several sittings before the artist can be sure to have captured the Monarch in all her, well, majesty.
Young Faris the Rascal did not need a single sitting in order to commit my portrait to paper for posterity to admire and wonder at. Here I am, with my specs on my nose (as always), wearing my red coat (as always) and carrying
my handbag (also as always - you never know, do you, when you might need a tissue, or a wet wipe, or a biro or a Werthers Original toffee?) My hair is standing on end which is doubtless how the three Rampaging Rascals see me when they come to visit - their
combined antics in house and garden can definitely be described as hair-raising. I am also delighted to note that I have a wide smile on my face; I hope this, too, is how the Trio see me.
Since starting school in September, Our Rascal has discovered his Inner Picasso. He began with dinosaurs (what else?) but quickly progressed to people and is showing amazingly acute powers of observation.
My dear Mum, Dolly, loved to paint. She was rather better at painting scenery but she much preferred painting people. My siblings and I loved the portraits she painted of us because
she always depicted us looking several years younger than we were. My portrait is special to me because she has painted me wearing my Guider uniform, hence placing me in a particular time of my life which holds many a happy memory for me.
For a while The Rascal experimented with drawing spiders, as a change from dinosaurs, before producing an amazing picture of his father, complete with birthday cake topped by a glowing
candle. I did mistake the cake and candle for a firework at first, being under the influence of Bonfire Night, but once my attention was drawn (if you’ll excuse the pun) to the Error of My Ways, there could be no mistake.
I remember posing for one of those pavement artists you meet on holiday. Mr B stood by, watching the artist at work - her speciality was focussing in on a particular facial feature and accentuating
it. “Her nose really isn’t that large!” he commented, teaser that he is. When the portrait was presented for my approval it was my specs, not my nose, that had been drawn larger than life. I mention this because it is also The Rascal’s
modus operandi - to capture and capitalise on, a prominent feature.
Once we recognised this, we all wanted to be captured on paper by Faris the Artist. His portrait
of Grandad, known to you all as Mr B, shows him follically challenged, specs falling down his nose, walking stick clutched in one hand and a quizzical look on his face. The Youngest of the Darling Daughters, known to the Trio as Kazza, has fair hair, like
mine standing on end. She, too, is holding a handbag and on her face the broadest smile of all.
I’m thinking of suggesting that Her Maj might like
to be portrayed by The Rascal. It would make such a refreshing change, don’t you think, from having to pretend to be pleased by endless portraits of One wearing One’s crown and robes, trying to look regal when One’s Back is aching from sitting
in one place for too long? Faris would take no time at all - mere minutes - to commit Her Maj to paper and I can guarantee the likeness will be striking. I am not sure if he would depict the Queen with her hair standing on end, like mine and Kazza’s,
but I wouldn’t be surprised - not when you consider all the hair-raising events she has lived through over the course of her long life.
What about Faris’s
proud mamma, the Middle of the Darling Daughters, you are asking? When I commented on the quite startling accuracy of her little son’s portraits, she sent me a picture of his drawing of her with the message: “I’m not sure what that says about
I could see straightaway: the Middle of the Darling Daughters has the most amazingly blue, blue eyes and this is the single feature her son
has captured so perfectly. Let’s face it, he has grown up gazing into those blue, blue eyes, full of love, over the last four and a half years. It is no surprise to me that his portrait gives them such prominence.
As far as Faris the Rascal is concerned, The Eyes Have It.