Archive for the Note to Self Category

Ghana in Reverse (Two)

Posted in GFYS, Literary Masterpieces, Loves, Note to Self, Rants with tags , , , , , , , , , on December 20, 2012 by ccartlidge

This last week has simultaneously been the worst and best. The shit finally hit the fan. I am relieved and looking forward to the day I stop torturing myself. I’ve been in my head for months, more than is habitual even for me, and it’s hard to tell what’s real and what isn’t. It’s horrifying. Any self-respecting overthinker is conscious of overthinking, and conscious of the high that results from the occasional desperate sprint through a labyrinth, but I’ve turned around so much as to have lost my bearings and I’m afraid that I’ve allowed myself to become ridiculously lost. High, but lost.

I like to think that I’m good at reading people. That may be true, but if it is, it is certainly also true that I’m a bit of a masochist. Ever since studio taught me how to see, I’ve seen that I am bored and frustrated by that which doesn’t at least acknowledge the sick beauty of dichotomy. Being absolutely sure is idiotic, which I realize is hypocritical coming from someone who enjoys having strong opinions, but I enjoy being an idiot because, after all, I’m smart enough to know that I am, in fact, an idiot but perhaps not quite smart enough to always be able to tell what is self-aware and what isn’t. I suppose it’s always been true that most things aren’t, including me. I’m disappointed and simultaneously smug.

I feel gross, and even grosser because I got exactly what I thought I wanted. At least now I know what I don’t want, which is a step forward unfortunately.

There are a few people I want to send a care package to when I get back to the States, but I’m not sure if they even print porn dirty enough to be worth it. Who buys porn anymore? No one. The internet killed the centerfold.

Exposition Upon Death

Posted in GFYS, Literary Masterpieces, Loves, Note to Self, Rants with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on December 10, 2012 by ccartlidge

It has only been a few days since I moved back from Ghana. In retrospect, time seems to have passed disturbingly quickly (which isn’t surprising, as they say that about practically everything).

It seems like a dream that manifests in the midst of the rising action, leaving me to fabricate the introduction, scramble to prepare for the climatic action, and then it ends so quickly that the conclusion seems not to exist at all and I still have no idea whether this dream was a comedy or a tragedy. Or nightmare, as it were. I suppose the truth is that it is both, because everything is, and it would seem so obvious as to be stupid, if it wasn’t also so complicated.

I may have learned more about human nature in the past year than I’ve learned in the previous 28 and I’ve certainly learned that the dramatic arc only exists, unadulterated, in a fabricated drama.

Endings are for the dead.

A sketch and a mystery involving chickens

Posted in +/- Minute Sketches, Note to Self, Personal work, Photos with tags , , , , , , , on August 30, 2012 by ccartlidge

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a sketch or anything really, so here’s a semi-random page from my sketchbook. After flipping through it, I’m noticing that the eye-and-diary thing is a pattern.

Two more names to add to the List of Identifiable Names that Ghanaians Have Called Me

Posted in Literary Masterpieces, Names that Ghanaians Have Called Me, Note to Self, Rants with tags , , , , , , on August 29, 2012 by ccartlidge

These are fun ones too, and they are: Madame Pink Floyd and Nana Ese.

Madame Pink Floyd DOES have a reason, but it’s probably more fun for you to simply imagine why a Ghanaian might call me Madame Pink Floyd given that I’m not the hugest Pink Floyd fan (I know, I’m awful, get over it) nor am I British, not that it matters much.

Nana Ese deserves a bit of background information though. I may have mentioned this in an earlier entry, but the terms ‘Maame’ and ‘Nana’ are honorifics for women and men, respectively. They seem like Mrs and Mr (without the marriage connotation in the case of Mrs). Ese (or Esi) is a traditional Ghanaian name which indicates that I am a Sunday-born female. If I were a Sunday-born male, my name would be Kwesi. So, the fact that the police officer at the checkpoint near my house calls me ‘Nana Ese’ each morning on my run indicates that either very short hair on a female who isn’t wearing a dress is confusing, or he has a peculiar sense of humor. I’m not exactly a brick house of a woman, but I’m pretty sure that the breasts give it away? I could be wrong.

Also, I think I might have found a local hookup for Obama crackers.

This is a list of identifiable names that Ghanaians have called me in the past month.

Posted in Literary Masterpieces, Names that Ghanaians Have Called Me, Note to Self, Rants with tags , , , , , , , on June 9, 2012 by ccartlidge

Empress, Madame, Rasta Girl, Ese, and, last but certainly not least, Obroni. Yes, I’m white, how perceptive of you.

I feel inadequate, dumb, and princessy living here without knowing any more Fante than meda ase (thank you) and akwaaba (welcome). On the other hand, I feel exceedingly lucky to miss (most of) what people shout at me in the market. Cowardly, but ignorance is bliss. I’m pretty sure these things are the same hand after all.

Actually, I quite like Empress. Vast improvement over Princess. Empress is comely like Princess but has the added benefit of also being powerful, intelligent, and fierce. That’s a fucking compliment my friends. I am humbled and undeserving.

Also, I’m ridiculously white.

Koko Taylor sings my Anti-Resolution

Posted in Aesthetic Day, Loves, Note to Self with tags , , on December 31, 2011 by ccartlidge

Get it, girl. Let the good times roll.

You may have missed the Decentralized Dance Party, Portland! Suckers.

Posted in Aesthetic Day, Loves, Note to Self on December 29, 2011 by ccartlidge

(I should say Aesthetic Night)

I apologize, as this post has no higher meaning. Last night was one of the best nights I’ve had in Portland to date. This type of shit is making it obvious that I am, in fact, moving from Portland just to move back in a few months. Sorry loved ones on the east coast, but it seems like unless I build it, it won’t come. (On second thought, maybe this post does have higher meaning). Coming up on the Decentralized Dance Party tour: LA – New Year’s Eve (LUCKYYYYY), Phoenix – January 4th, Austin – January 7th. Phoenix will be a bit shinier after DDP arrives.

Note to self: take risks, especially if the right people think it’s a terrible idea.