Even I have that problem. Running an art centre is 90% work, making beds, washing, ironing, cleaning, preparing food and a thousand other jobs. But then when I have finished I can take myself off to my little art room and start.

The thrill of picking up the brush and applying the first strokes of paint are the most satisfying moments. What follows depends on whether I drop my brush in some hot tea rather than water, or I just can’t squeeze another drop of colour from the tube, or it all goes well and I step back to look. Then I see the problem bits. So I make another cup of tea and settle down again.

I walk off and prepare dinner, but I can’t help walking back to the art room and looking. I am deciding what to do the next day. There is nothing more therapeutic than immersing yourself in a painting. It takes over. You relax and just apply paint and watch a picture take shape. Wow. How did I do that? No idea. But I know this. As long as I can lift a brush I will paint.