It must have been the intersection of an impending birthday (6!) and an extra shiny, stainless steel dish rack tray we weren’t going to use. And the newspaper picture of Kate Middleton’s portrait. Hmmm.

Self-portraits.

I breathed a quick sigh of relief that she had not taken out a real mirror, given how my little man-cub would have relished the thought of bandying that glass about like a pirate treasure. Phew.

And so emerged a picture of a young woman, a changed kid. It was incredibly interesting to see how she sees herself, and it seemed to be quite pleasing to her as well.

To study, then draw her individuality – her face story. We’ve been talking a lot these days (and reading) about what makes a story, what stories we have to tell, our own stories.

And so, as I run off today to iron our biggest vintage linen tablecloth and gather cups and plates for a birthday party, my heart will sing at what a magical time this birthday change is for her, and how ever so slowly and gently, she is finding her own voice, her own wings, and her own stories.

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