Wifi vs. the Elk

I woke up two hours early, again.  Toss.  Turn.  Think.  Think.  Dream awake.  Shower.  Breakfast.

I stepped outside the door and came face to face with an elk with massive horns, also having his breakfast.  I wonder if he also woke up too early thinking about his daily activities, possibly with his family, or maybe he was also about to go blog with some sort of body motion as a means of commutnication with his companions.

Blogging scares me, but I'm doing it.  It scares me because it's easy to sound narcissistic and self-righteous, because it's often some sort of hybrid between a diary and your opinions, except that it's not locked away in a vault on the side of your bed... in fact, you know that people will read it before you even begin.  I suppose this makes it a bit different than anything I'd jot down to myself (which might make sense to no one) and different than the essays I used to write in college (only my professors and occasional classmates would read these, and would judge mostly on it's composition, not my opinion).  

BUT... isn't that what art is?  You have to say SOMETHING.  Paint something.  Sing something.  You have to film something.  People will like it.  People will hate it.  So if a blog is an art... then I can continue... because God knows... art comes with imperfection, as I am a very imperfect human being.

Oh no... I have to go... sorry.  I'm going to drive on a one way dirt road built a century ago to the top of a glacier.

I'll return soon to finish my first thought, and comment on Nate Campany's beard/mustache situation and all other goodness happening with our wonderful bloggers.

Later... literally, later...

B