My cousin lived in a village in Mali while he was in the Peace Corps and Badra was his Dugu Tiki, or headman. In the painting he sits in front of a hut where the elders would meet. I love the shapes and textures in this image - the woven screen, mud walls, and the bit of corrugated iron over the entrance with grass growing on top.

I’m told Badra would not touch anyone, even to shake their hand. As a young man a witchdoctor had apparently put a curse on him so that every hundredth person he touched would change gender. While painting this piece, I often wondered how his personality was shaped by living with that curse.