The foreground shows a moderately worn industrial carpet. In the background, a mirror, though what it's reflecting isn't clear. The perspective is off. Manet's "Bar at the Folies-Bergere" comes to mind; but, of course, no oranges or pretty dresses.
In the middle ground there is a figure - a girl. She's dressed plainly, in typical athletic costume for the period, and she's seated on what appears to be a bicycle, though the silhouette is foreshortened and the height too high to be the kind of bicycle that's familiar.
We can see that the girl's forehead is heavily beaded with sweat. The upper half of her shirt is wet. Her body leans forward, one knee bent up, the other back, elbows out. Something must be driving that look of intensity in her eyes but it is a mystery. We scan the rest of the canvas for a clue but find nothing; hints of other figures may be represented, or are they just brushstrokes of light?
This isn't your typical still life. No fruit or flowers, no oysters, no freshly killed game. I don't see why any painter would sit down to capture a moment like this, in oils nonetheless; but one senses a journey is underway - even though the subject is clearly going nowhere.
I rode for an hour today on the stationary bike. I pushed myself as hard as I could and went 14 virtual miles while the rest of the world enjoyed the most beautiful summer day outside. This is my portrait, "Still Life with Bicycle."
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