El Principio (The Beginning)

     It's only fitting that my first blog post originate from a laundromat--a place where things are made so fresh and so clean clean--since this is what I always intend for myself when I go somewhere new. Also, as I sit in this cocoon of fluffy warmness listening to the tumbling clothes and occasionally glancing at the white poodle across from me, the foot of snow that consumed us yesterday begins to melt and slide down the mountainside on its return to the end of the water cycle. The poodle's name is Franny. She barks at the little girl that is running around with ceaseless energy. The girl climbs into one of the dryers; I imagine pushing the ON button. I'm in Estes Park, Colorado for those who don't already know. So far my experience has consisted of meeting an even mix of foreigners and bible pushers, although not combined yet. 
    I took a hike my first morning here (a beautiful sunny and snow-free morning only 3 days ago) up to a place called Bible Point. It's the resting place of a boy that died when he was 19 on a road trip from Chicago to Seattle for his brother's wedding. His parents buried him at this point that overlooks the YMCA grounds because it was his favorite place in the world, even after he traveled much of the it doing mission work with them. This mile-long climb was a great way to begin the acclamation process and for me to think a bit about people that lead exemplary lives like this boy. I thought a  bit about the opinions of the famous British philosopher, Bertrand Russell, and his idea that we humans still have savage and violent impulses left over from our ancestors. He thinks that they most often manifest in war and domination, but that they could and must be channeled into other outlets and that some people manage this with organized religion and others through sports etc. By the time I reached the boy's grave, Edward I think it was, I was thinking of a person that channeled his life and creative power into literature. He, like Edward, died at a young age, leaving the world to wonder what he may have done with a longer life. His name was Stephen Crane, an author at the forefront of American Realism that died from tuberculosis at the age of 28. He is best known for his book, The Red Badge of Courage, but I have always liked his story "The Open Boat" because of it's depiction of the connections between man and nature. For those with time and curiosity, you can read it at this very cool site: online-literature.com