Thursday, July 9, 2009

The prodigal returns ...

... well, kinda. This thing has been on a six-month hiatus (!!!!!!!) for many reasons including:

A) Currently interning out in Washington, D.C. as a Media Program Analyst at EyeTraffic Media. Busy.

That's me if I ever wore a suit! Note: serious post-editing and CGI.

B) Enjoying all the spoils Our Nation's Capitol has to offer (eating delicious food, seeing interesting people, hanging out with the Obamas, et cetera).

C) Blogging twice a week over @ THE INSIGHT BLOG. Most of my posts relate to the internship, but focus on social media (Twitter, Facebook, etc.), marketing, and the like ... which affects all of us at least once a day. Be honest with yourself. And check it out even if you don't think you'd be interested. I try to make it as entertaining as I can.

D) All of the above leave little time for my random ramblings. But, rest assured, they will return in due time. And, when they do, I will have so much fodder you'll have to poke your eyes out to avoid pleasure overload.

Seriously.

Seriously.

Catch you soon. Until then, be good to one another.

- Blake Joseph Bowyer III, Esquire

Monday, January 19, 2009

Watersheds ...

"We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection." - Abraham Lincoln

Tomorrow is indeed a new day. For many of us, it's a day we knew we'd see, but not so soon. For some, it's a breakthrough built on decades (and familial centuries) of tears, sweat, and struggle - a hallmark to be proud of and remind us that, though they still exist, each day we chip away at barriers like a sculptor at a slab of granite - with purpose, unveiling something beautiful. For others it's justice and vindication and "about damn time." For all of us, though, it's progress and an opportunity to acknowledge not only how far we've come, but how far we need to go.

Growing up in the generation I did (and still do), it's difficult for me to realize the full magnitude of tomorrow. But history definitively fills in the blanks. The last Jim Crow laws were repealed little more than forty years ago and the ruling in Brown vs. Board of the Education was written during our parents' lifetime. One can practically smell the ink and feel the reverb.

My closest touchpoint with that class of bigotry was when I watched the Aryan Nations march down the deserted main street of downtown Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, like a social club with quirky views. Though, that was a desperate demonstration; the livelihood of the group teetering like a Chihuahua on a linoleum floor, clinching First Amendment rights closer to their hearts than their own ideologies. It wasn't met with embarrassment by the city's leaders like in years past, it was met with something more powerful - disgust. But that makes it no less haunting that in 2004 such pockets of hate still came to the surface, gasping for air and spewing vitriol. Tomorrow, though, that group - and many like it - can't help but face their last, most devastating defeat.

But, more than its social and cultural significance tomorrow is a historical and political watershed, echoing the same essence. Tomorrow, the United States begins to rebuild. In many ways, its infrastructure has been damaged by corruption, negligence, nepotism, and general idiocy. As the outgoing Commander-in-Chief grapples with some uncharacteristic introspection, the country he and others have fumbled the past eight years can't help but look onward and forward. Historically, we will find ourselves at a crossroads, and while a consensus isn't necessary, we can all agree that success will be easier achieved if we work as friends.

So, $800+ billion (plus the second $350 billion of TARP) is the bill we've been left to seal the cracks of our country, but there is much more damage to be undone. Mostly, the US needs to invest in rebuilding its character, and there's no price tag to be assigned and no amount of tax dollars that can be committed help. It depends on us and our participation, and tomorrow is an auspicious start. So, as images of Lincoln are evoked left and right, it's important to remember that the parallels are plentiful,and internal conflict and crisis is one of the most crucial. Though he doesn't have to pull us from a Civil War, the holes in the national spirit still need to be patched, but they won't be unless we invest our own social mortar.

I apologize this was a bit disjointed, but I didn't want it to turn into a novel ... and a gushy, preachy one at that. So, please scroll back up and read the words of the original lanky guy from Illinois. He said it better than I ever could.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Peru and life, in so many words ...

Some things are best left to themselves than summed-up. There's no way I could described to you how it feels to be on an island in the middle of lake as the tin roof of my bedroom claps against its walls; or how the juices of a perfectly-ripe pineapple taste when confronted by a sunset that's uninteruppted by noise or building (but I'll try - they both explode. And, like wine and cheese, go better together); or how the stones of centuries-old buildings feel after they've been turned to rubble and used to build a new empire ... and the sediment left on your fingers when you brush against them, trying to imbue yourself with their power or wisdom or history ... as if by some metaphysical osmosis you could understand each stone's journey. 

I could try. Through adjectives and similes, but you could only be there if you had been. Many times during my trip to Peru, I uttered to my travel companion, "No matter how many pictures we take, we'll never be able capture this." Not with disappointment and
not with regret, however. But, in revery. Like many times before (and hopefully many more in the future), I knew the best picture would be the one that would fade away in my head. And not just picture, but the more ineffable senses of experience - sound, smell, feel. All I have is a window.

I realize now, as I did then, there was something special about those moments we can't capture or describe. And be thankful that we can't. Otherwise we could just read travelogues and flip through stacks of pictures and be there. But these moments, they require our participation. They require that we GO. Otherwise, you would only know this about the little girl on Amantani - her name was Lucy and she chomped on an absurdly large carrot that reminded me of the exaggerated-action of Shoot 'Em Up and her bites made a crunching sound like when you step on an insect with an exoskeleton. Even more, she liked it when I drew on her hand with a blue colored pencil and her sun-kissed skin felt like the hide of an animal; she was fascinated with my camera and took THIS picture; lastly, her curiosity was only exceeded by her smile that looked like that of a rough charcol sketch I once saw in a Degas collection.

But, that's just me and my frames of reference. You would have to meet her for yourself to know how delightful she was.

Of my trip, though, I can tell you these ten things ...

1) Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches can sustain one for only so long.
2) When in doubt, buy the poncho.
3) Escupir is the Spanish verb "to spit". An alpaca taught me that.
4) In Peru, soft serve ice cream dispensers are the new phonebooths.
5) When you travel, you'll often be more amazed by yourself than your destination. 
6) While thin, the air at 10,000+ feet is manna for the lungs.
7) My definition of "hot water" is much more flexible than it once was.
8) Guinea pigs (cuy) are cuter than they are tasty.
9) Going sin guia (no guide) is so much more exciting (or, at least, eventful).
10) The crucifix can be depicted a startling number of ways.

Oh, and, one more ...
11) Peru is a spectacular, remarkable, and simply amazing country.

I'll be back with more. For now, go discover for yourself.

Bringing the chullo to Colorado in 2009,
BJB