I have been getting myself in a right old lather of late. I can’t explain why. I’m having such a crisis of confidence that I just want to hide under the bed or behind the sofa or, better still, behind my Daddy’s legs.

It’s a comfort thing – Daddies are big, strong and always know the answers to the questions for which I have spent my whole life searching. My Mum left a message on my pbase saying I should have figured out the answers to some of my questions by now, but I grow ever more bewildered and ever more unsure of things by the day.

Daddies protect you from harm and look after you so you don’t need to worry about a thing, Daddy does that. Of course I dare say that Daddies probably fret and worry about things just like I am doing at the moment but they just never show it, especially when you’re little.

When I ‘got home’ from work tonight, I had another small knock-back. Only a little one, nothing life-threatening or in any other sense really mattering, BUT it set me off again. Fret, fret, fret, worry, worry, worry.

I worked some more – in my latest flurry of working myself to a frazzle for no apparent gain. I am doubting my ability to ever make things work out for me so totally now that I can’t seem to pull myself up from the floor.

When I went into the kitchen to look for inspiration for supper, I pulled open a drawer and found an old shaving brush that I assume must have belonged to my dad, though I have no idea how it came into my possession if that was the case.

That inspired me. I used to sit on the linen basket and watch my Dad shave. He has always ‘wet-shaved’ although I have no idea if he still uses traditional soap or if he migrated onto foamy stuff. The ritual of filling the basin, swishing the brush round and round in the pot to build up lather and brushing it onto bristles in a circular motion. The scrape of the razor as it swooshed across his skin, taking the bristles away. These things comfort me. They make me feel that there is some protection for me.

So, here it is – the shaving brush, falsely camped up to look as though it’s in use. The soapy bubbles are, in fact, shampoo!

This shot was extremely difficult to get ‘right’ and I had three separate sessions of shooting, uploading then deciding none of the shots were up to scratch before starting again. I am finally quite pleased with it, even though it took me ages to get.

Last year, I was teasing people.