On August 20, 2010, I drove away from my home of six years in Anchorage, Alaska. Leaving the Great Land (what many Alaskans affectionately call their beautiful state) was one of the saddest and equally intense things I have ever done. The place, and my good friends, were very difficult to leave. (See my video on that lovely but cruelly sad trip.) The place, and my good friends, were very difficult to leave. I have moved back to Seattle, Wash., to begin an MPH program at the University of Washington School of Public Health, in its Community-Oriented Public Health Practice program, or COPHP. The tuition is staggering. I spent $29,000 my first year (out of state, with insurance), and prices go up 10% next year, though I will qualify for an instate fee, nearly $18,700, including insurance, but with the tuition hike! This is the outrageous price of higher education in the United States. You can still watch my Alaska tribute film, which runs a little more than 10 minutes. I promise you this: if you have lived in Alaska and leave, you will feel a huge hole in your heart and soul that will be hard to fill. Though my physical body is still in mourning--deep, deep mourning--my spirit is still playing with the ravens, fishing with the bears, soaring with the eagles, howling with the dogs, and running with the wolves I loved in Anchorage.

In June 2009, I began playing guitar, also around the time I began writing poetry. Both have sparked a love of singer-songwriters, particularly those who can rhyme and tell a good story in verse. This is not easy, particularly rhyming consistently song after song. Hardly by accident I have listened to nearly the entire catalogue of Bob Dylan. I respect him as a writer, singer, and musician. The man understood himself, his heart, his world, and women. My favorite songs by Bob, at least now, are Spanish Harlem Incident, the perfectly crafted Simple Twist of Fate, and Don't Think Twice, It's Alright. But there are so many others I am trying to learn, whose lyrics and melodies are just so right: Girl from the North Country; It's All Over Now, Baby Blue; and especially I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met). Thanks for the beautiful, honest, exquisite songs, Bob. Wish I had stumbled on your tunes and guitar playing earlier in life.

In mid-May 2010, I went mountain biking with friends in Denali National Park. It is a great time to see the park, before the tourists arrive in large numbers. You are allowed to drive up the road about 30 miles and then bike in. I think every mountain biker I knew from Anchorage was there with my group on May 15, 2010. I put together some video footage of the two sets of grizzly families we encountered near Polychrome Overlook, a stunning area in the park.

Since running in my life changed after a bummer injury in June 2008, I have been living the life aquatic. Swimming is great for the mind and body, but awful for the hair and skin. Ah, a true yin and yang, the eternal balance. Few sports match swimming for its net benefits to the cardiovascular system and for improving one's health, and you can do it until the day you croak. Swimming, you have become a friend of mine.

On April 10, 2010, I went "crust skiing" at Portage Lake/Portage Glacier, about an hour out of Anchorage. This is a great way to enjoy spring in Alaska, which is different than, say, April in Paris. On Christmas day 2009, I went mushing for the first time just outside of Anchorage, on the historic Iditarod Trail. I was led by my friend Jane Baldwin. Though I cannot duplicate the smell of a kennel, I did my best in this video to duplicate the sights and sounds of a dog lot and what it is like to be on an Alaska trail on a beautiful winter's day with happy dogs. Brilliant.

In March 2010, I had a wonderful epiphany thinking about the dilemma of good ole Charlie Brown, Lucy, and that silly football. I wrote an essay and poem about this incredibly profound little comic strip dilemma.

On Christmas day 2009, I went mushing for the first time just outside of Anchorage, on the historic Iditarod Trail. I was led by my friend Jane Baldwin, who kindly took this rookie under her wings and shared this great pastime of peoples of the north. Jane is working this winter with the Callin' Trail Kennel, run by Ryan and Erin Redington. For me, this first-time mushing run (only 1.5 hours) had special meaning. I had been wanting to do this ever since my good friend Dr. Roger Gollub was killed by a drunk snowmachine operator on Nov. 19, 2008. As I was mushing with an enormous grin on my face and watching the scenery flow thanks to the raw power of the dog team, I almost could feel Roger's spirit with me, cause I knew what he was feeling just before he was taken from us. I am not one who normally succombs to sentiment, and I am not spiritual, but I did feel seomething, and it was a feeling of joy and lightness like I have not experienced in a long time. Maybe it is the calming feeling that mushers feel all of the time. I can see why they do what they do. Though I cannot duplicate the smell of a kennel, I did my best in this video to duplicate the sights and sounds of a dog lot and what it is like to be on an Alaska trail on a beautiful winter's day with happy dogs. Brilliant.

I changed my name. As of Oct. 5, 2009, I changed my name from M. Rudy Brueggemann to Rudolf Scott-Douglas Owens. In short, I have simply changed my last name from Brueggemann to Owens. This was a decision long in the making, and I am very glad I did it. Please note, I do not have the time and resources to change all of the elements of my web site, so if you are navigating this site, you will find numerous references to my former name (Rudy Brueggemann). We are one in the same person.

In May 2009, I was a first responder to a double fatality road accident on the most beautiful evening possible in Alaska. When I had arrived, the passenger was still alive. I can see the victim's face so clearly still. This particular event ultimately sparked my name change decision, and it sparked my interest in learning emergency response. On Oct. 28, 2009, I became certified with the State of Alaska as an EMT1, or EMT Basic (see the test chart from test day; check the state web site for emergency services). This was a challenging, demanding, and tremendously satisfying program, taught by Dan and Sonja Shirey, owners of MultiMed, a company that trains emergency services professionals in Alaska. They have one the most amazing jobs I can think of--teaching students how to respond to life-threatening emergencies, which are far too common in Alaska.

Events since May 2009, along with the passing of my friend Roger Gollub, sparked an interest in poetry, again. I cannot fully describe how satisfying writing a poem is. I just love writing them. In October 2009, I published a brief remembrance to a friend of mine who passed away recently: Yvonne Mozee. She was among the finest photographers I have ever known and a remarkable woman who lived an equally remarkable life. I will dearly miss her. People like Yvonne come around rarely in one's life. Some more light-hearted experiences this spring inspired me to publish a one-page photo essay, using a couple of my favorite portraits I took of some good friends, about women and the loves of their lives (I hope my two friends forgive me). And guys, this is not about you.