Oil on linen
1200x1200mm + frame
It was a chainless bicycle, with a free-wheel, if such a bicycle exists. Dear bicycle I shall not call you bike, you were green, like so many of your generation. I don’t know why. It is a pleasure to meet you again. To describe it at length would be a pleasure. It has a little red horn instead of the bell fashionable in your days. To blow this horn for me was a real pleasure, almost a vice. I will go further and declare that if I were obliged to record, in a roll or honour, those activities which in the course of my interminable existence has given me only a mild pain in he balls, the blowing of a rubber horn, toot!