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Our columnist Joe Gibbs has been sitting for a portrait, despite a few misgivings. Here's what he's learned.
I’m having my portrait painted. I can give you several excellent objective reasons for this. A painting of my wife executed some years ago seems lonely without a pair to it, we agree; her words, not mine. Other generations of our family hang around the walls of our home, including our children, leaving a paternal question mark of sorts for the future and a sense of the incomplete.
It becomes daily more apparent that, if I don’t take the plunge soon, the only colour on the artist’s palate will be grey, all 50 shades of it, not only for hair, but for skin tone as well. It will have to be a grisaille,