Her parents inadvertently doomed her to the fickle fates when they chose her name for the beautiful flow of the three syllables.  Her talents are her greatest misfortune.  She lacks close friends and family because her ingenious play-on-words cause only insult.  Her mesmerizing graffiti murals are sprayed over as indecent for passersby, thus she is often blacklisted by law.  Her inventive ideas are often stolen without the remotest due credit making her close to dirt-poor.  Yet, as a doomed artist, she continues to create and create and create without recognition.  Sometimes, she looks onto the sunrise or sunset across the Bay and ponders the tragically artistic sweep of wings old Daedalus must have witnessed when his son plunged into the sea.

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