Maybe that's just what she does. Seduces people. Women too, I'd guess. Certainly small children and the older folks.

She does it very well, if you like being seduced. But the first rule of sociology (and seduction) is, some do, some don't. I do, but I know better than to take it seriously. (Wanna see my scars?)

A baby muse. Unattainable, like the object of romantic love, where the only love worth having is unattainable. The problem is that you can really fuck up your life chasing muses. My father was a romantic, which meant that his wife, who he always came back to, could never measure up to the woman that divorced him, or even to his weekend stands. It meant that after the first of his girls died of lukemia, not one of the next three could ever measure up. Hell of a way to raise children.

When the baby muse grows up, what will she be?

Being a muse is a worthy profession. But it has special dues.

Me, I'm waiting for the next act.

if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then remy has the most beautiful eye i know. she finds creation in decay, hope in nostalgia, and prophecy in memory. she can find the object you didn't know you lost but have missed dearly since the day it disapeared right in front of your face. she can break your heart by reminding you you have one, and she can heal it with a smile. i have seen her slow dance in the isles of a supermarket, and kiss passionately in the rain despite near by shelter. she is the deadliest pirate alive with a sharpie and my faveorite vegetable. i have watched her grow wings. i have watched her grow roots.

I am so stuck on this girl...