Lucretia, a Roman noblewoman who died in 510BC played a key role in the downfall of the Roman monarchy. Sextus Quintinius, the son of the ruling Roman king, Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, had approached Lucretia in her bedroom and spurring his advances was raped.  As a result the prominent noble families instituted a republic and drove the Tarquin royal family from Rome, a republic that lasted 500 years. My art mentor Karen Van Hoey Smith told me of Artemisia's own suffering of rape so it is easy to understand why she kept returning to the subject. Cognisant of the history of this twisted event I feel privileged to bring Lucretia back to life with my own ‘defibrillation’ a few hundred years later. Lucretia's moment of capture is at that instant before death. Immediately after telling her father and brother of her torment she committed suicide. The light and shadow to Lucretia's left side proposed itself as an allegory of this moment, the light catching the defibrillator's luminescent life-giving properties. Further that I could place the green 'jolt' and red 'stop' buttons in both light and shadow. The green button whilst mostly in the light can still deceive us a chance for life - for all we do it may still be our time. The red button mostly in shadow, out of mind but still a chance to rob at a time we least expect it. Knowing those buttons could kill or kickstart the Roman Republic was not lost on me either, a chance to alter history. Nor that ability for each of us to stop and start our own days, dreams and lives whilst we are still able. These buttons were the last placings of paint on the canvas but, for me, the most important daubs in the whole work.