Charlotte Guest is a co-author of the blog Clementine. She is an arts student at the University of Western Australia, hurtling towards the end of her undergraduate degree. She plans to dolphin-hop straight back into the UWA waters by studying at postgraduate levels, surfacing for a bout of travelling every once in a while. Charlotte has practically grown up working in a cul-de-sac kitchen-hand job, and will consider the day she leaves as on par with her future wedding, neither event being guaranteed.
Clementine is a Perth arts initiative based upon the fictional character of Clementine. The articles, artwork and photography published evoke a 'personality', like pieces scrap-booked from her dresser.
Clementine aspires to be a platform for emerging artists, a place to experiment and network. She is, ultimately, a space for new voices and faces.
“Calendar Girls” first appeared in Clementine on 24/03/2012.
"The Pakistan Desert, 1969" first appeared in Clementine on 13/03/2012.
The Pakistan Desert, 1969
Each member of my family has their own calendar .
We also have ‘the family calendar’ .
No one advertises their availability like me.
 This is where we spread out our respective to-do lists so that we feel like busy, busy people. My square for today boasts "return dvds", mum's has "shopping" (we're talking groceries), and dad's has "golf", like every other square of his.
 The family calendar is a collective work. It stores the more significant occasions that we feel the other house-mates should know about. Today is blank. In three squares time the calendar says "Charlotte's Birthday", which translates to "I remembered". The main problem with the family calendar is that it's incomprehensible. Mum appears to write in code: someone please tell me what "ZZCC" could be - it happens every second Saturday. And this Tuesday something called "WASD" is going down. Dad's hand-writing is frankly appalling. Tomorrow he is off to what looks like "Bork Bifant".
 A number of people buy us calendars too special to use. They masquerade as personalised, bottom-of-your-heart gifts, but in fact they come from borderline forgotten relatives and acquaintances makes them reek of desperation.
"What do they like?!"
Obviously, it's the thought that counts, and seeing as we also ship off calendars to those in our outer circles, these show calendars come and go in a comfortable mist of mutual nonchalance.