Wednesday, August 16
I woke this morning at about 5:30 to find myself in the middle of a lengthy download. I found myself receiving a clear idea of what I should write ahead of the meeting next week with Matteo and the game designer. I then found myself understanding how a found sound album would work, and how it would tie back into recording a final version of Flesh on Bones. I saw this worked on by a band called KLOK that consisted of Kauko, me and a female vocalist whose face never appeared in focus. I saw myself working with a virtual world, before I realised that I should finish the plot structure for the novel I began planning in the summer, as a matter of some urgency.
I didn’t go back to sleep but lay there wondering if I would remember all this. By the time the alarm rang at 7:30 I felt tired again. That has not happened to me for a long time.
I cycled to work and again the bike felt sluggish and, by the time I got to Puotila, I felt as though I could no longer at all.
At Arcada I started the day with a backup session, and then brought myself up to date with the workload involving Nobanet. I read through last Spring’s notes and minutes and wrote some emails to various people I suspected had stuff to do. I also created a work plan for the stuff that I apparently have to do before we meet in Riga in September.
At midday I had a lengthy tutorial and discussion with an MA student who has almost completed a thesis that uses McLuhan to analyse the concept of thought leadership. Both of us found the discussion useful.
Tutorial over, I wander down the stairs on my way to buy a banana and a strawberry pie. I have suddenly, out of nowhere, developed a craving for two small Fazer strawberry pies. At the foot of the stairs I notice one of the many small windows around the building that I realised last year enable you to peep through two or more walls to see what you would see if the walls did not exist. I presume that these constitute architectural easter eggs of some kind.
I will spend the rest of the afternoon working on the script that I have to write as part of my Nobanet homework. I will feel somewhat hampered by the fact that I appear to need to summarise the outcomes of work that nobody has done yet. I will blithely assume that they will tailor the outcomes to match whatever I write in the script.
When I get home I will have a long look at the bike. I will discover that the new spiffy, multi-format bicycle pump – the one that came with no instructions – has fooled me. The tyres on the bike have not actually got the proper amount of air in them. In order to pump them up I will have to move this lever to the left, after I have attached the pump to the valve. Once I do this the tyres will become hard in seconds.
I will cycle to Alepa to buy milk and ice-cream and the cycle ride will feel as I remember. The moral: always read the instruction manual except where it doesn’t exist.