I used to have a face-painting kit and regularly appeared at school and church fetes to depict spider man, a tiger, or butterflies on chubby cheeks. Conversation-wise it was as challenging as being a hairdresser,
“So, have you had a go on the tombola…? I see. No I wouldn’t want old bubble-bath either. But you’ve had some sweets from the sweet stall then? Lots of sweets. Lots of sugary sweets. Please do try to sit still for just a bit longer.”
I’d have been very happy to continue face-painting – I thought I did it well. But once my children reached eleven and left primary school, nobody asked me again.
The thing I had not realised about this art-form is that it is genetically determined.