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Whistlepunk or donkeypuncher?

Crescent Bay from Striped Peak, January, 2009

The history of the Olympic Peninsula is conspicuous, but not without it’s romance. It’s like the whole area was planned during a fistfight. Despite the devastation of bottom’s-up industry, it’s hard to not to feel a sort of ignorant devotional pride over it, the old time religion of absolute resource depletion. A soft guffaw, as it were, from a pew.

This new project pigtails such yokel pride with a fairly unsophisticated ecological bent in me. I’m curious to see how that duality will manifest itself, and which ignorance will prevail. Or simply where my interest will go, even if it is the path of least resistance.