A twenty-first century courtesan, a dinner & travel companion, a ward of simple pleasures. The euphemisms go on & on...

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Gemma is a reincarnation of all the dreams I’ve ever had. She exists in the moments when the skin bares between worlds, and the materials of the land ripen with an electric magic. In the wild, she's not exactly approachable. You don't want her to be.​

 

In private, you'll find, I love to laugh. Born in the Year of the Monkey, I am led by my curious and mischievous nature, which lends from decades of sticking my nose into dusty corners of the library. My friends endear me as charming and magnetic, qualities they say cannot be replicated by clever marketing or computer software. My tongue can be as sharp as my cheekbones, that some would call wit and others call blasphemy, but when you sand down the edges, I am simply a romantic in an ever changing world. I love formulaic plot arcs, I can be a bit of an art snob, I'm impatient waiting in lines, I want the best. I hate the internet, I love the internet. I spend too much money on shoes and I care too much. I wish I were better at eavesdropping, but it’s probably better I mind my own business. And though I consider myself a free bird, if you are the type to ask a lady her age or measurements, you will find that I become surprisingly demure, for I seek not to be purely bound within the contours of your mind.​​

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Dear suitor, I have a secret to tell you: The power of good company can be distilled into a feeling.

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Like watching the morning frost melt, the slow magic of conversation stretched across hours transmutes time and space. Good conversation is the soil from which every encounter grows. 

 

I’m tempted to say time spent with me allows for escape from the dregs of ordinary life, but I’d be standing on the shoulders of many courtesans before me. Like a good novel or film, some courtesans entertain, and others linger, challenge, and reshape the way you see the world. Really, time with me is a glorious exercise in paying attention. Whether we are poolside basking under the sun or across a candlelit table— intimacy is a dance, which is a kind of language, one that cannot be mastered by technique but by being in the present. I believe there is a fallacy in chasing idealized versions of ourselves, in running the hedonic treadmill. Don’t get me wrong: you can and should try to woo me with everything you can muster. Attractive is a man with a reverence for the dynamic woman who embodies both grace and chaos, with the ancient instinct and animal drive to build an empire for her. After all, an act of devotion can satiate the search for knowledge and beauty far better than hard discipline. But what do I know. As Anais Nin once said, “A kiss can destroy a philosophy.”

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xx

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