The figure sits centered in the middle of the painting, the idea of an easy chair floating around her, a woman with chin in hand, bloodless lips, bald skull, staring eyes, a woman about to renounce something, that’s one interpretation, a meditative woman who knows how to listen; and if she could, would listen now as the auctioneer conducts the bidding among collectors who want the painting, who will console one another after the painter’s sister, the only one who knows there’s a single strand of blonde embedded in the paint, has outbid them all, insisting she must have the picture, if only for that single hair, the one thing left of her sister.
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