POPPY PAULUS- NICOLAS IS A MULTI DISCIPLINARY ARTIST. SHE OFTEN TAKES THE STANCE OF REPORTER OR OBSERVER, USING HER WORKS TO WEAVE A MULTI LAYERED STORY OR NARRATIVE. THE RESULT IS OFTEN UNCANNY, PERSONAL AND FUNNY. SHE SEES EVERYDAY MOMENTS AS RIDDLES TO BE EXPLAINED, EVEN IF YOU DO NOT WANT THEM TO BE EXPLAINED TO YOU. YOU CAN ALWAYS TALK TO HER ABOUT ANYTHING AND SHE LIKES TO THINK OF HERSELF AS A GOOD SHOULDER TO CRY ON. IN FACT, ONLY YESTERDAY MOIRA OPENED UP TO HER ABOUT ALL THE PROBLEMS SHE'D BEEN HAVING WITH JOHN. THEY HAD BEEN DRIVING ALONG THE A70, ON THE WAY BACK TO OLD TOLL, JOHN HAD CAUGHT A REAL BELTER THAT FRIDAY, 80 QUID AT THE SLOTS, AND THEY COULDN'T HAVE A SERIOUS BLINDER AT HIS MA'S. SO HERE THEY WERE ON THE HIGHWAY, AND JOHN SEES A WOMAN STANDING AT THE WAYSIDE STICKING OUT HER THUMB, SORT OF BLOKE THAT HE IS HE PULLS OVER AND LETS HER IN. NOW MOIRA WAS HANGING OUT HER ARSE AND SHE DIDN'T WANT TO SHOOT THE BLOODY BREEZE, SO SHE LETS HER EYES GET BOGGY AS JOHN AND THE BIRD START NATTERING, AND SHE SLOWLY DRIFTS INTO THE ABYSS. SHE'S DREAMING OF LAST FEBRUARY WHEN JOHN HAD CALLED TO TELL HER HE'D SNOGGED ANOTHER GIRL DOWN BY THE SLOTS. IF SHE THOUGHT THAT SORT OF THING WOULD HAPPEN SHE WOULDN'T BE WITH THE SOGGY SOD, AND SHE FELT LIKE BUTTERED TOAST THAT'S SPIRALLED OUT OF CONTROL FROM THE PLATE OF LIFE. SO IT WAS NO SURPRISE, REALLY, THAT THERE SHE WAS STANDING OVER HIS BODY AS I CUT OFF HIS FINGERS AND PUT THEM IN A WAITROSE BAG. I LEAN DOWN AND PULL OUT HIS SHIMMERING GUTS, STRAND BY STRAND AND SUCK THEM INTO MY MOUTH LIKE CANNED SPAG.