Deze pseudo-multiple bestaat uit telkens hetzelfde silhouet in plexiglas, een naamplaatje van steeds een andere kunstenaar en een vel hartjesstickers, die naar believen op het werk gekleefd kunnen worden. Het werk is geïnspireerd door gepersonaliseerde massaproducten – zoals een colablikje of een nutella-etiket met een persoonsnaam – maar wil die niet met een ironische knipoog ontmaskeren als iets onnozels. Integendeel: de 'frames' zijn een anti-cynische ode aan kunstenaars die V & S zonder voorbehoud gebruiken als kader om naar de werkelijkheid en hun eigen werk te kijken. 

Het verlangen naar (een andere) persoonlijkheid wordt gezien als iets dat ontroerend en waardevol kan zijn in verschillende vormen, van intelligent en zelfbewust tot onbeholpen en aandoenlijk. Op die manier is het werk ook een ode aan het talent van de liefde en het bewonderen, of specifieker: om het bovenpersoonlijke van de kunstgeschiedenis paradoxaal genoeg te gebruiken om iemand te worden, of zelfs persoonlijk te benaderen. Ook helden zijn immers altijd een projectie van hun eigen helden, een kruispunt waar aura's op elkaar inwerken. 
 
I was shooting a commercial in Rome, and I was working with two people who had worked with Fellini. So I said, “Do you think it’d be possible to go over and say hello to him?” And they said, “Yeah, we’ll try to arrange that.” There was an attempt on a Thursday night that fell through, but Friday night, we went over. It was about six o’clock in the evening in summer – a beautiful, warm evening. Two of us went in and were taken to Fellini’s room. There was another man in the room and my friend knew him, so he went over and talked to him. Fellini had me sit down. He was in a little wheelchair between the two beds, and he took my hand, and we sat and talked for half an hour. I don’t think I asked him much. I just listened a lot. He talked about the old days – how things were. He told stories. I really liked sitting near him. And then we left. That was Friday night, and on Sunday he went into a coma and never came out. (David Lynch in Catching the Big Fish).

NICK CAVE: Do you remember that gig, the Nina Simone gig?
WARREN ELLIS: Oh yeah.
NICK: Fuck that was good, wasn’t it.
WARREN: Yeah, it was up there. I’ve seen a bunch of gigs, that’s one, that was one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen.
NICK: Do you remember, before she started playing, she tool the chewing gum out of her mouth… Took the chewing gum out and just stuck it on the piano…
WARREN: …on the piano, yeah. I have that chewing gum. I have that.
NICK: You’ve got that?
WARREN: I took it yeah. I went up and took it off the stage afterwards.
NICK: Did you really?
WARREN: Yeah. I have it in a towel, that one, she wiped her forehead and went like that…
NICK: Oh fuck, I’m really jealous.
WARREN: And it’s in my little studio where I work. I remember, because Matt Crosbie, Matt mixed her. And Matt apparently walked past her room and she was sitting in there like looking really pissed off and not wanting to be there and he goes like “is everything okay Mrs. Simone”, or whatever, you know.
NICK: Doctor Simone.
WARREN: Doctor Simone, I guess, “and is there anything I can get you?” And she just said “I’d like some champagne, some cocaine, and some sausages!” And Matt goes “I’ll see what I can do”. So he went off and he got some coke and some champagne and some sausages for her and he said she just had this big grin on her face and she goes “thank you!” And goes (snorts) hoovered up the coke, drank some champagne and ate her sausages.
NICK: Yeah.
WARREN: And then we saw her come on stage, you know. Like she’d wrapped the duvet around her.
NICK: Yeah, yeah.
WARREN: That was unbelievable that show. I’ve never seen an audience like that, that felt like they were about to fall in on top of one another. Nobody knew what to expect.
NICK: Well she was genuinely frightening.
WARREN: Terrifying.
(Nick Cave en Warren Ellis in 20.000 Days on Earth)