Oh Bondage, Up Yours

Somedays the ideas won't come.  Somedays no matter how hard you stare at the keyboard the words refuse to form.

For whatever reason today I can't seem to get my brain to work, to be creative: to think of anything much to say.

I don't know how creativity works for other writers: I know that we're very cautious about talking about it - incase the ideas go away and because, quite frankly, we don't understand it either.  Where do these ideas come from?  The Qwik-E-Mart?  Might as well be.  Why do they come to us?  Are some people more open to the lightning strikes of ideas that hit every brain and, in many cases, bounce off?

Sometimes these ideas seem like a waste - they don't go anywhere much, they may be unshared and, more often than not, they come to us at awkward times and are lost before they are fully formed. 

But those creative ideas are what keeps us going, what makes us who we are - what makes the gaps inbetween worth the while: and in the mean time we wait - and hope the lightning strikes us again.

In the mean time this week marked the death of little known Punk rocker Poly Styrene (of The X Ray Spex) at the tender age of 53 - and I wanted to share the below with you because I think that in our current culture of fame at any cost the lyrics are perhaps more relevant than ever - and only go to show that a good, original idea, is never out of fashion



Identity
Is the crisis
Can't you see
Identity identity

When you look in the mirror
Do you see yourself
Do you see yourself
On the t.v. screen
Do you see yourself
In the magazine
When you see yourself
Does it make you scream

When you look in the mirror
Do you smash it quick
Do you take the glass
And slash your wrists
Did you do it for fame
Did you do it in a fit
Did you do it before
You read about it

And - because you can't have a Royal Wedding with aaat a coupla corkerneys cor  blimey hows yer father etc etc etc here's Chas N Dave - from the last time someone royal tied the knot