Every culture mimes.

A child repeats a word before understanding it. A song borrows a melody. A film remembers another film. Every language is built from other languages. Every style began as homage.

We are taught to suspect the copy — to value origin over echo, creator over follower. But this hierarchy is fiction. Copies carry their sources forward, multiply them, distort them usefully. Without imitation, [nothing accumulates]. Every tradition is a long echo.

What we call originality is, most often, imitation well-hidden. What we call influence is imitation acknowledged. What we call [plagiarism] is imitation ungrateful.

Remime is none of these. Remime is imitation noticed — the act of looking at the world and recognizing that everything here came from somewhere else, and that this is not a problem to solve but a [pattern to study].

To re-mime is to mimic again, knowingly, with the attention the second act demands.