Tuesday, April 2
Sleepless nights take several forms. This one did not involve me laying awake like a man with insomnia. It involved me waking up every hour in the middle of odd and disturbibg dreams, laying awake puzzling about them, and then falling back to sleep to wake up sixty or seventy minutes later to repeat the pattern.
I seemed to find myself having different episodes of the same dream, although I could remember very few details of it each time I woke. Let’s just say that it felt like segments of the same dream: same atmosphere, same cast, same lighting.
I spent the morning teaching in two sections. At 9:15 I went through what happened last week for the three people who missed all or part of the sessions. At 10:15 I started the new material.
I started a recording session with Mirko at 13:00 and recorded four episodes for the Interactive Storytelling course. Another eight to go.
When Mirko had to stop I turned to writing and editing more scripts, because not all the eight exist in a final form. Mirko suggested improvising them and I may do this for some of the later ones where I will talk less about theory and more about practical examples.
Irma collected me from Arcada at 17:00 and we drove to see her mother in hospital. She didn’t want to see us, so we left. She came out of her room as we walked down the corridor and shouted for us to go away.
We had a long delay on the way back because the police had sealed off two lanes of the three lane highway approaching Herttaniemi. It looked as though a tall truck had hit the bridge removing piping and signage.
We both notice how blue and Spring-like the weather appears. When we get home I look up at Minna’s apple tree against the brilliant sky.
The evening will pass with a phone call from Irma’s mother apologising for acting rudely and asking us to leave when we visited and then going on to remind us never to visit again.