I am holding a very small baby that is wrapped in a towel. I put the baby down for a moment and someone yells to me to look at it - it's bleeding! The towel is bloody. I run over to the crying baby and see that it has been stung with a metal pin. I carefully remove the pin from the baby's leg and the bleeding stops. The baby becomes calm again. It speaks to me - and asks me to sing a lullaby. I begin to sing one of my favorite lullabies that I remember by heart. My mother used to sing it to me. The baby looks up at me the whole time I sing - and I remember every word of the lullaby, and I sing it clearly, and I realize how calming it is to hear someone sing.

(Yep, I promised to tell when I had my next 'baby' dream - so here it was!)

While awake...

Weekend update - in order of importance:
- A and I saw The Passion of The Christ.
- Wonderful conversations with A.
- Oscar viewing with friends and margaritas.
- A few hours left before gloomy Monday arrives with its grey overcoat.

While awake...

Which Incredible Adventure would you choose?
A lot of people really want to go to space. Others want to explore the space within ourselves.

While awake...

There are a few things I absolutely admire beyond anything else done by humans. Exploring space is one of them. I know fear would prevent me from going if I ever was offered the chance, but then again perhaps not... I have a dream that if I ever have children - perhaps they will get the chance...
Chuck Yeager definitely has The Right Stuff!!

While awake...

Fig perfumes.
I absolutely love them.
Let me know if you know of a particularly wonderful brand.
This one by Fresh is beyond words. However, there must be something even better out there!

I am not that afraid of the dog, but as it moves closer to me I become increasingly aware of its personality and temper. I know it can think for itself. In fact, I can now hear what it's thinking - and it speaks to me. I know this is not possible so I am immediately rationalizing alternative reasons for it. But the dog tells me the following; 'You can hear me in dreams,' and then I realize that that could be true. That in life while awake I cannot hear the dog but when asleep and dreaming this is possible. When I have thought this thought I am no longer worried or afraid - I accept it as it is and give myself time to enjoy this skill. I can hear animals talk!

Up on a balcony in a gym I see N.R. He looks very focused and is standing very still. Behind him is a large curtain that covers the view from the balcony. Then he takes off at great speed and runs out toward the curtain and leaps off in a dive into the open air... and lands with a smack on a gymnastics pad some 15 yards below! What a stunt performance! I am both amazed and impressed at this. I think he did this to prove that he dared to do such things. I begin wondering if I ever could do such a thing myself. I come to the conclusion that I probably wouldn't.

I have moved into a new apartment but everything is still in disorder. Furniture is still in odd places and much needs to be reorganized and cleaned up. But it is a much larger place than before and it will become a nice place when done.
Later on I walk outside and look into other apartments - I see that many others have also just moved in because the rooms still have heaps of furniture in them, and everything looks disorganized and thrown in there. I also see a child's room, where a temporary bed has been set up next to the parents' bedroom. I think it will look very nice when completed.

While awake...

Helsingin Sanomat has a fun article about cross country skiing memories.
And yes, I have also participated in those dreaded school skiing competitions. I was actually quite good at cross country skiing, and if I hadn't been so lazy and uncompetitive of nature, I would have had the potential to become a decent skier. So ever since first grade and on I ended up 3rd, 4th, 5th, and sometimes even 2nd in the skiing competitions. My uncle would put on ski wax in the morning, and for some reason he was really good at it - in fact so good that other kids' parents brought their skiis to him so he could wax them. The morning of the game I was of course all donned in ski wear and had already mentally gone over the fastest way to get the skis loaded in the trunk of the school bus. It was a huge fear of mine to not be able to load the skis onto the bus, and that all the kids would laugh if I screwed up. Well at the ski track we were given white vests with numbers on. The number was drawn through lottery. And then we were lined up in the track and sent off at about one minute intervals. Sometimes people would catch up with slower skiers and pass whole groups of kids who were going through the worst day of the winter (read examples in the Helsingin Sanomat article). I did not like competing. In fact, I hated it. Yet, I also hated not winning, and knew that a whole bunch of grown ups would be standing near the finish line and cheer on -- and I so desperately wanted to show some of them that I could ski. So I would literally ski until my lungs and legs hurt so bad that I began tasting blood in my mouth. That was when I knew I had reached my maximum speed and then I just turned on my 'robot mode' and moved the ski poles as fast as I could -- until the finish line was in sight and I always made a point of skiing as beautifully as possible! I have a drawer filled with odd gold and silver spoons and a handfull of medals, as evidence of those times. After the competition we would get a boiling hot lingonberry juice and a doughnut - and it felt great to live again.

While awake...

In the advent of Valentine's Day...

While awake...

It's now time for the Kultainen Kuukkeli 2003. Ehum, The Golden Cock in English - which is the Finnish version of the Bloggies.

(Edit: See comment section for the correct translation of Kultainen Kuukkeli.)

I almost drove into the Pacific Ocean the other day when I heard HIM on 103.1 FM! I mean, they're a Finnish band for Chrissake! I still get a weird "this-cannot-be-possible" feeling when I hear a Finnish band playing here in the States. I thought it was a tongue-in-cheek thing they did -- but then I heard it the next day, and the day after! I guess you better read up on them because they're coming to Los Angeles in April sometime. Finnish bands that make it outside the borders of Kalevala's shores are indeed rare and few. Check out Wentus Blues Band.

A and I are finally driving down the Atlantic coastline. It is so different from the Pacific and today we have a strong wind and the sky is slightly overcast. My head is turned toward the water, and sometimes I see slivers of it as we pass houses and vegetation that blocks my view. Then we drive along a bay and up on a hill. I had expected a nicer yard at least, but everything seems to be a little haphazard. A few cars here, some garden tools there, grass not tended to. We park the car, and I look once more out over the bay. We're at the edge of the bay out on a small peninsula. The hotel stands there, with a dark and mildewy look to it. Inside we check in and begin our walk to the room. At some point we walk up stairs to the second floor and begin walking through what seem endless rooms and hallways, through small areas with kiosks and information booths, and then on through more hallways and past even more hotel rooms. I begin to wonder how we would ever get out in case of an emergency and start looking for exit signs. I find some signs and calm down. There are other ways out.

Now I am on a boat tour on the bay. The water is choppy and I wonder if I will become nauseaus, but I don't. I sit low in a covered small tourboat and everything goes well. But the weather is now grey and windy. I feel melancholy.

L (a student) sits in a room and looks at a painting. Then he says: 'I really admire screenwriters who don't realize their own genius.' I say: 'Oh really?' He nods and explains: 'They are the most genuine types of artists, the ones who don't think they are anything special - they don't realize their ingenuity.' The painting depicts a mountain range with different dark shades of black, brown, grey, and reddish brown. A lowland is seen in the foreground with some very pale and wintery green colors. Perhaps a sliver of water somewhere. The painting might be 18x24 inches in size. I am both surprised and fascinated that L would say such a thing. I really did not know he was interested in those kinds of things nor that he was so articulate and insightful.

It's P's wedding and Joan Collins and holding a speech. I can hear that Joan has no freaking idea of who P is but she still tries to make the speech meaningful and heartfelt, without any trace of luck. It becomes pathetic. I whisper to A that P probably will get a kick out of this and that it will if nothing else be a good wedding story.

While awake...

Epic Dewfall get his ideas for paintings from lucid dreams. He also writes quatrains.

This via the ASD Discussion Forum.

I hope you can see this!

I know I will be late. In fact there is no way in hell I will make it there in time. I need to change in to other clothes and walk to the bathroom. There is a party going on and people are constantly entering the bathroom and so I will get no privacy. It is very frustrating. The bathroom is large and rectangular, but I eventually give up.
I think it is 6 am and I think to myself that I might as well get up.

I am walking in the entrance to a museum. Someone steps on my heels repeatedly until I lose my temper and look back in anger. It is a mother and her little daughter in a stroller. The mother looks back angrily at me - giving me a look that tells me it's my fault they stepped on me. I step to the side and think bad thoughts about the mother. It puzzles me a bit why she would bring her daughter to a tobacco museum...

Family and relatives are around. I hear evergreen music, and my uncle invites me to dance. I think it might be Elvis singing in the background. I have never danced with my uncle before. Why does he want to dance with me?

I am finally on my way and am driving through a forest. It is a thick forest and the fir trees are tall and mossy and darkgreen. The road is a bit unclear at times, and eventually I look around in search of the actual road... but when I think I see it I come to a stop. When I was driving this last part I couldn't really see clearly. The forest took up all my attention and now I am at a deadend. The forest road ends here! If I continue I will drive into a hole, down into the greenery. I look at the deadend for a while in amazement that I had time to stop before I continued on right through it. Then it hits me - I really wouldn't have notice this abrupt end without the help of someone. I am so grateful for the help. I thank God. Thank you God, I say and feel very happy and not afraid at all. I turn around - or reverse the car back in the direction I came from until I notice another road leading up into a different part of the forest. Yes, that's where I should go. I drive up a hill and follow the road around a bend down the same hill. Out of the thicket walk a gay male couple. They are vividly discussing something while their little perky dog wiggles its tail. Soon they vanish in some other direction and I continue my drive through the forest.

I am looking for a belt in a department store. I walk deep into the large and dark department store, to the part where old ladies shop. It is almost empty, including the clothes racks... it looks like a huge blowout sale has just ended and nothing is left. I touch a few items, no belt, and a sales woman greets me. I tell her what I'm looking for and she tells me to go to the entrance of the store. As I walk back toward the front I catch myself in the mirror. I am wearing pants in black and pink! And I have a studded belt around my waist. I overhear a father telling his daughter that the front of the store is the 'segregated' part of the store. I think a lot about that as I walk. Later on I find a bed and rest there while reading a book. I know I should move on, but I am intentionally procrastinating. Hah!


I am temporary working in a highrise building. Someone says the fire alarm will soon sound and suggests we should leave now before the rush. I don't hesitate and so we all walk quietly but as fast as we can down the staircase to the bottom floor and the entrance. Outside it's raining cats and dogs. False alarm. Or fire drill. Back upstairs. Not much later another silent alarm goes off - someone lets us know that the alarm has gone and we need to leave now. I walk downstairs again, and now leave the building to stand outside for a few seconds in the rain before I return back inside. Lots of people are beginning to gather in the large entrance. I see my mother, she works on the first floor. She seems a little surprised to see me, but she might know that I work here (today). I am relieved to see her safe. I see my boss and walk over to chat and bullshit - just to impress him. I say meaningless things while trying to sound intelligent and acceptably funny considering the situation. My mom seems annoyed at that, she might think I am flirting with him.

A helicopter rescue will have to take place. I see a female soldier/helicopter pilot climbing up a ladder inside a narrow tower. Then I see people fall down past her from above. It is horrible but we know that noone can do anything right now - and so she must continue on, up to get to the helicopter so she can pilot it and complete the mission. I look down the levels below me - and it is so horrible to think of the person who just fell past me. Moments later news reaches me that someone literally loses his face while falling, but that he is still alive. His face got scratched so badly when he fell that most of it is now gone... I cannot see him, because there are so many levels below me. I look back up. People can be so calm.