I’m a hedgehog. Or a bear perhaps. Either way I’m really feeling the urge to hibernate right now. Dark mornings and even darker nights drive me into torpor and I’ve slowed right down.

The portrait of Ben, once going so well, has just been mothballed. Keen to press on after a short, forced gap brought on by a rasping winter cough I did pick it up again, but in the wrong frame of mind. Now I’ve successfully improved it worse.

The looseness for which I strove has been lost, and Ben’s features are now smoothed out to the point where he resembles the polished plastic face of a TV anchor. Where did the form sneak off to? He also has more than a touch of the livid beetroot about him – damn you Alizarin Crimson! *falls to knees, shakes fist at sky*

Sorry Ben.

Try as I might I simply haven’t been able to rescue it. I know will of course, but now is not the time. Pressing on will just reinforce my depression and knock my confidence which will feed into a negative cycle. Best leave it to ‘rest’ and divert my mind to other things.

The Hulk-Spidey sculpture is on the bench (again) and ready to be tinkered with. That’s different. But it’s also slow and intense work; not sure that’s quite what I need right now.

I do have a notion to paint a seascape, and I’ve been hitting my sketch books for inspiration. I have a nice tight linen canvas I’ve been meaning to christen. It would be rough, wild and magnificent (just like me…) with mist and spray and looming cliffs, towering sea and flying spume (a little less like me…)

Or there’s December’s Twitter challenge: still life under the tag #stilldecember. Have to admit that still life’s never really pushed my buttons, although I can appreciate brilliant examples of the genre by other artists. If I do eventually contribute it may contain fossil or two.

Finally, of course, I could just surrender to all the Christmas ‘busyness’ going on. Not sure I’m ‘with the programme’ at this time of year. To be clear, it’s not Christmas, the holy day, I have an issue with; in fact I rather enjoy Christmas. I find I’m increasingly irritated by the excruciatingly forced, pre-digested bonhomie which schmoozes relentlessly from TV’s and shops from October onwards. Give that a miss then.

So, what to do? What to do…? Hmm. Maybe I’ll just hide under the duvet with a sherry…