my love/hate relationship with gayellethechannel

actually wrote this weeks ago as part1 for a project i'll call gayelletheblog, that gayellethechannel completely lapsing on. that, in+of itself, shoulda change this piece slightly because it removes the hopeful feelings for gayelle i had @ time of writing and lowers my opinion of gayelle considerably, but i doh waste my words+time so i'll still start here and post about my subsequent disappointment and their bad business practices as followup later...

gayelle is my station of choice. i leave my tv on gayelle when i turn it off so that when i turn back on gayelle is my homestation. but this is as symbolic of what i hate about gayelle as how much i love gayelle: leaving the tv on gayellethechannel is the only way to know wha’ d ass showing on gayellethechannel. and i doh appreciate being held hostage.
i love what gayelle stands for, the mission of documenting and showing us weself; we own television bringing local programming. plus training young people who wouldn’t otherwise be afforded such opportunity…with the downside of that contributing to one of my gripes about my favourite station: too often gayelle executing the mission poorly; low production values, no apparent proofreading or quality control (audio, anybody?) and lewwe not forget, not even accurate information in the tv guide in any of the available media so we can choose to tune in! allyuh want we to watch or wha’? ‘cause i trying hard but allyuh making it too damn difficult, man. why we imitating everything about the packaging of foreign television programming except standards? community doh hadda be synonymous with low quality; why old episodes of gayelle [the programme] look+sound better than some recent content?
and still, ah love eeet!
love to turn on my tv and see those old gayelle episodes and who the c.a.p. fit (regular scheduling, please!- not that gayelle would say if they did), to see this year’s best village finals and the 3canal show from a few years back and flims and chutney videos and this week’s hard local countdown (in spite of the stupid choice to promote a self-proclaimed local countdown with the guitar chords from not just a foreign rock song, but the police’s roxanne, one of the most recognisable…sigh…so many issues, so little sense applied). taking in the new programming too, gayelle have an air of “big tings a gwan” lately, which, thankfully, seem to include higher production values, so we monitoring the situation.
but when they showing something i already see and i flip away, when i remember to check back if channel-flip into the middle of something i wish i catch from start, i frustrated it have no way to find out when it showing again. you know how many different times i hadda randomly catch bits+pieces before i “see” the documentary on astor johnson and repertory dance theatre? and i still doh know wha’ it titled or if i actually see the whole thing yet, still tryna catch alla the rig (which i till hadda thank gayelle for introducing me to in the 1st place) and any string of subsequent episodes of who the c.a.p. fit. (as you can tell, i covet gayellethechannel/banyan archives) and if i miss dotcom or the box in the daytime slot, forget tryna time the latenight rerun. then if i actually catch wha’ i tryna see, the audio drop out in the middle and nobody in d gayelle doh seem to notice!
and still, wit’ alla dat, ah love eeet!
contemporary local artists, documentaries on those who gone before, local+regional news and current affairs 24/7, brilliant! and as i say, we monitoring changes; gayellethechannel seem to be pushing new programming with tighter production, and i have a vested interest.
my mission similar to gayelle’s. when i left trinbago for university i knew i was coming straight back ‘cause it have wuk to do home: documenting and archiving our cultural history, creating infrastructure and resources, and raising the standard and profile of the arts. i come home to create the kinna work i wanna see on our local stages+media, facilitate public art, to teach, and to help document any way i can. but while wukkin on my input for our combined mission, the only thing stopping me from pelting down to gayelle (2blocks from my flat) several times a week to cuss ‘bout varied arseness, is having to get dressed and interrupt my own creative process.
so yuhknow i cyah wait to see how good they come, how they balance the original mission with the need for a new approach to sustainability, and community-based production with international industry standards…
how you feel ‘bout wha’ you watching on gayelle?

walk good.

often i feel like this

the 1st somehow more engaging for me, but the 2nd has some watch-worthy moments with dog, etc.
walk good; forward, backwards, however you do...

writer/editor for hire

i desperately need a regular gig.

i desperately need tings regularly paying reasonable sums so i can continue living alone because i cannot function in cohabitation. i cyah stay sane+productive with somebody sharing my livingspace+alonetime. and yet insteada pounding pavement looking for non-creative-but-paying wuk as soon as i met today's deadlines, i here, blogging, lifted in spite of the lung infection, because this is the only thing that makes me feel any better about the overwhelming state of my life. and because at least i writing.

walk good.

dansons, dansez! watch listen feel...

‎​
walk good.

old school cuteye, revisted

‎​old image, but when i bounce it up again the other day and buss out laughing like 1st time i couldn't resist a repost...she watching w. like she studying to duck out from under his arm if he only lean in any closer...hilarious!

walk good.

allow me to gush a moment; make sure and press play...bes' band!

‎​since the big bad band gyazette reach the portable playlist i eh listen to nutting else, love how powerful i feel cuttin' it on the main road with "little millionaire" or "down" in my ears, armed with tha' port-of-spain sound; and since salcedo gimme the rough mix of "captain" (big-up kesh/lazabeam!) i eh listen to nutting else in the house, fallen in love with it in a whole new way- always love the song, it's vibe+message and love it as band anthem/flagship-song, but is not the song i waiting, dying, crying to hear when the band play, until now- is like i finally hearing it as it intended to sound and i so in love with it that this morning, travelling to diego i listening to "captain" on repeat, which i never do 'cause i have "little millionaire" and "down" back-to-back, but i so loving it i never reach "little millionaire" before coming out the maxi, and it raining, pouring, and i nipplicious in a white vest (and we know i have no bras) lambasting myself 'cause if i hadna listen to "captain" 3extra times in the house and leave 10minutes earlier instead, ma woulda still be home so i could call and say it raining please pick me up by the stand, but then, i have gyazette so i eh business, i waiting out the rain happy and tryna remember not to wine too hard as i finally let the track switch to "little millionaire". i grooving, so caught up in bes' music i eh studying nutting else around until i go to walk and see some dude foot step off the curb same time as mine looking familiar. when i look up, is salcedo self, ketchin' kicks 'cause i eh even realise he by me whole time i wining on the pavement, so i put my earphones on him 1time and get the biggest grin ever when he realise wha' i jammin' to, pleasantly surprised at how good it sound...perfect timing...ah love eeet!

(i know i post the 1st 2minutes of this previously, abovelinked in this post too, but you hadda see the rest of the performance below and see them live for the full band...)

walk good.

fff#38

big-up alooicious for always-willingness to play, keeping my mind entertained; so many ideas, so little timespace!
my flash fiction friday #38; pick-a-pronoun-trigger:

what they didn’t know was, jesus went for lunch. it had nobody there besides me and i wasn’ feeling the wuk. ah mean, who really need tha’ kinna responsibility, unless you’s jesus self and eh have no choice? and i done make out how he grindin’.
but the blasted phone keep ringing and as time passing i start to wonder, wha’ if some tortured soul desperately dialling+redialling? then i study how jesus leave me here, solo, i alone responsible for the hotline to hope…and then it hit me hard: wha’ jesus would do, dread?
the question shake me, listen, i even pull one of the heavenly smokes from he pack- you know he eh doin’ dat in public!- and smoke straight down to filter, i was so shake. but when the smoke clear, my mind clear too. nex’ time the phone ring, i walk over by the desk, siddong, make sure they want a answer, when i feel moved to help, i pick up.
“afternoon, young lady.”
“good afternoon…but…you know is nikisha?”
“miss nikisha…who it is you think you calling?”
now between me+you, i jes answer the phone so, not knowing who on the other end, jes being polite, as is jesus’ phone, nah…me eh know who tell me say “young lady” but as it wuk, i roll. so i talk to she.
and the nex’ time phone ring, i pick up 1 time.
“bredrin”
“ahm, yeah…right…wait, wha’? you know me?”
“i know you confuse ‘bout why you talkin’ to me, but doh study it; alla dem ting go wuk out…”
“wait, how you know…”
“wha’ i jes say, bredrin? dem ting go wuk out. jes pay attention and do wha’ yuh know yuh hadda do. right? right…”
“but how…”
“an’ is jesus’ phone yuh call?”
i put down with my words echoing in my ears. the second after i say them words i couldn’ believe i say them words. i back offa tha’ phone so fas’ and outta the room, jes praying for jesus to come back, after i disappear.
my eye squinge up tight tight, i scrambling, and when i reach out the door into wha’ i think is the yard and dare peep, i find meself in my own yard, home. home, hoss…
my mind cyah take this kinna stress.

i look round to make sure where i is, pelt inside my house and promptly swallow the 3quarter-bottle of johnny from on top the fridge. as that done and i wish i had supply plenty enough to erase the afternoon, i look up to find meself here, barman handing me a johnny+coconut like i had siddong and ask he for it, except i know i eh do no such ting; a moment ago i was in my kitchen staring down a empty bottle.
ever since then, is like everyting i think i want, jes happening…like i get a miracle touch…i feel i do right by nikisha and the bredrin.

is either that or i waking up in hell; i figure, either way, drinks on the i, ent?

walk good.