Prepare her masterpiece, please. Bring with it dubious levels of humane inhumanity and innermost irregular angst, a cunning and concentrated ploy which can call to cause constant creativity – to placidly capture one artist’s uncertain hand. She never quite knew her rudest, shrewdest nerves, did she though? Nor their reawakening and reissued afterthoughts, not one bit but for the split between each eager second which seeps.