Sunday, February 15, 2009

Lite Off 12/10/08

So... yesterday I sat down at the computer and started to compose a new blog. I had been conceptualizing the whole thing for a few days so it was super colorful. Full of details, twists, turns and themes and imagery... All kinds of antecdotes, poigniant insight, and folkloric gems. The ideas and stories were coming out hella clear, hella vibrant. It was like I was a fossit with the pressure turned all the way up just spraying ARTTTT everywhere. lol. BLOUW! Just cold and refreshing after the long hike up the mountain on a blistering hot day. I'm telling you. It was the stuff that movies and best sellers are made of.

Okay so, I finished everything, proofread it, pressed the button to post it... and POOF! Gone. Sucked away into the abyss of cyberspace forever. An hour and a half of creativity and wit lost deep inside the internet jungle. Never to be seen again. (My hand is on my forehead. Can you see it? lol.)

I tried to look thru the little notes I wrote here and there in the hopes that I could put things back together, but I've just been sitting here for about thirty minutes re-writing the first couple sentences. Magical; '... Today the butterfly turned yellow and black. The same color as a bee, but with no stinger. Bigger. Sweeter. Like a small, elegant bird. I shaved my head today for the first time in two months. And..., just like that, Ghana saluted me as an African Queen. One man even greeted me as such. Two men walked me down the road and the Ga (name of one of the ethnic groups) seamstress across the street from the bank smiled and told me I looked beautiful. This is something I never thought I would hear during this trip. All of a sudden there is no question as to whether I am a boy or a girl. From Obroni (Twi for English speaking foreigner) to Obibini (Twi for Black person) in five minutes..' Good rite?! Lol.

PhotobucketAdia composing lyrics in Abavana Down.
(Accra, Ghana 2008)


Yeah, I wanna know what happens next too. I think it was something about how tribal marks, hairstyles, accessories, dress and adornment are all things that African people use to identify where and which tribe you come from, and how this was connected to the ways that my hair has always captured the spectrum of my internal landscape ... something, something, something ... that ended with the grand statement, '...Spirit will bring my hair back when I have grown to the place and time where my head has become the throne apon which they can sit to conduct business. Until then, a bald head will be my crown...: oooh. Swirling waves of analogy and metaphor were just CRASHING down! I was POUNDING the shores of imagination and intellect! BOOSH! Drowning surfers left and right! Sehu, I was getting my 'oracular offering' ON!... And then... 'Lite off'. Crickets. Lizards. Frogs. Stars. Moonlight. I have to wait until the electricity comes back on. It's always funny how I make the decision about when to mock myself and when to take myself seriously. The Cancer/Leo cusp can be quite crackish.

The point. One will not acheive greatness without practicing patience. (Especially not this one.) For someone that has been nicknamed A.D.Dia, patience is the Ebbo that brings forth my Ase. Africa really teaches you how to appreciate some shit. Like water just doesn't come out hot you feel me. lol.

Oh and let me not get my hopes up about this whole being recognized as a woman thing. How much you wanna bet it'll be back to "Boygirl! Hey Boygirl!" tomorrow? C'mon Africa! You can do it!

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