Monday morning
2026
Mixed media (oil and acrylic)
on linen canvas
27,5 x 27,5 inches
Monday Morning portrays, with dark humor, the alienation of work. A critique of the performance-driven society, burnout is its central theme.
A woman commits suicide, metaphorically or otherwise, in her bathtub one Monday morning, before going to work, as indicated by the clock above her. It is 7:15 a.m.
Her partner, indifferent, continues his routine in a daze. He doesn't see, or doesn't want to see. What matters is work.
The contrast between the banal gesture and the absolute tragedy structures the entire scene. The focus is placed on the executioner - of work - rather than on the victim, who blends into the background like a bathroom accessory.
The man, turning his back on the tragic spectacle unfolding behind him, occupies all the space while the woman seems to disappear from his field of consciousness. The razor he uses with a mechanical gesture - is it the one with which his partner mutilated herself? It does not matter; what matters is not being late for the office.
This cynical indifference is not merely that of an individual: it is that of the system that continues, relentless.
The elements of the setting reinforce this interpretation. The bottle of vitamins promises energy and performance: on its label, the bar chart suggests growth and performance curves.
The vertical lines of the wall resemble bars: a mental, social, perhaps even marital prison.
The red tile grouts, cement of blood, give literal form to the expression “to work oneself to death”: the woman pays for her beautiful ultramarine blue tiled floor with her health. The bathroom becomes the site of an intimate sacrifice in the name of productivity and social success.
It is also a critique of the couple and of a certain marital dynamic: the woman is ignored by her partner, her existence denied, rendered secondary and superfluous. The return of Monday and the daily routine act as instruments of silent violence. To her partner, she already seems gone, drained of blood, a ghost of her own life.
The painting may also be read differently: a femicide over the weekend, the husband’s murderous fantasy, or a bloody psychotic episode revealing extreme psychological suffering. Monday morning and its reassuring ritual then become a refuge, in a futile attempt to regain normality.
Monday morning
Monday morning, dreary ring.
Quickly, vitamins, a coffee
To emerge, and plunge back
Into the cold bath of routine.
The blade, a pathetic machete, cuts
The skin and gives him a suit.
There is no escape
Under the razor's fire.
And our dreams flow down the drain
Of the bathtub, in a whirlpool.
To find our fragmented minds,
To repair our wounded hopes:
Alas, it is already too late.
It is at least 7:15.
Monday morning, dreary ring.
Monday morning, murderer.
Sophie-Gaëlle Martin • 2026
