Mr Roger, don’t you remember me!

Thirty-five years ago, my studio was a shack alongside an idyllic cove in the British Virgin Islands.  The children in nearest village knew that on their birthday I’d make them a present of their portrait. 

On my last visit to Tortola, I was accosted by a large lady with three children in tow.  “Mr Roger, don’t you remember me?”   I had to confess that I could not for the moment place her.  Then she reminded me, I had painted her portrait when she was seven!

A couple of days ago I did a session for a children’s summer programme that was the initiative of Dionne, an entrepreneurial young lady who, in addition to running children’s workshops, works on the family farm and occasionally models for my paintings and sculptures.    

For my portrait, I choose the child with the nearest birthday.  Apart from a day’s difference, Adia shares the same birth date as me - except that we are sixty years apart. 

Perhaps, when I’m a hundred and five, Adia will test my memory by calling out, “Mr Roger, don’t you remember me!”