There is an island[1] where all the lost ideas make their way to. They have excellent navigational skills, lost ideas, as well as fantastic trial hiding techniques. Once a lost idea is sufficiently far enough away it will not come back easily.
I tracked my idea to Bohemia. Victoria Cohen Mitchell presented a BBC series[2] on Bohemians through the ages, seemingly concluding that there is no easy definition of what a Bohemian is. Essentially it came down with disagreeing with the political elite, which can be a little vague. I mean, the speeding motorist on the A65 is in disagreement with a political elite.
What struck me about the programme was the number of commentators willing to attach their definition on other people, most of which are no longer able to give a reply. The trouble with attaching one's own definition on others is that one will be invariably wrong.
Wrong choice of word. Wrong definition. Wrong recipient.
At this point the lost idea seems to have wanted to take in Herbert Read, Barthes, Descartes, and Derrida. Looking at this list it is also very likely to have included a paragraph or two outlining why Oxford commas matter (with a big 'fuck you, not fuck you' to Vampire Weekend as I'm rather fond of them).
These ideas are in my head, and no doubt will come out in due course. But it is worth noting that life got in the way. Life, that thing John[3] Lennon warned us all about, the disruptor of plans.
The main thing that disrupted my thought process was Kirkstall Festival. I knew it was coming, to be fair, get out a calendar and we can pretty much predict when it will take place every year (second Saturday of July), but this year preparations for the Festival also included preparations for the stall I would help run (for Kirkstall in Bloom). Along with work being massively annoyingly troublesome[4], ideas came and went like pooh sticks in a rapidly flowing river, fifty metres away and taken by beavers before I can do anything with them.
Kirkstall Festival took my creative energy, refocused it and helped me contribute to a pretty successful event. What does it matter if my writing is a month delayed, approximately 28,000 people came and enjoyed what was on offer[6]. As one person said, imagine everything you could find in West Yorkshire and you're likely to find it at Kirkstall Festive[5].
Okay, maybe an exaggeration but there's some truth in it. There is musical acts, performance, artists, local and national organisations, a parade, dance, sports, and a dog show. Yep, dog show. I managed two walks around the site, I saw folk, Morris dancers, blues, alt-pop, and heavy metal.
Which brings up the reference to John Dunne. There is a pressure from local and national government, media commentators and soundbite technicians, to view communities as islands. By doing so one can separate and divide. Communities have it within themselves to say, no, we're the sum of the parts, we can do better than you.
Note
1- Not an island, thanks, John Donne.
2- BBC reform is such a lovely, right-wing idiots idea of progress they ignore the fact it is so reactionary it almost revolts itself. Listen to the politician say in the same sentence, 'I love what the BBC do with X, but Y is unnecessary'. Sorry, but Y is necessary to someone else, and they didn't vote for you, you're not speaking for them because of a complete dysfunction between political reality and electoral success.
3- How many Johns can I fit into this, I wonder?
4- Though not too troublesome. We're moving office in September, and the desk plan correctly gives me the right position in the new office. My desk is number one.
5- Fun fact, the current chair of Kirkstall Festival is called John.
6- I must say, Kirkstall Festival was also an elaborate birthday celebration for someone. She was most happy, even if she didn't recognise every single attendee.
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