We'll see if Raju is serious about wanting to move to Buffalo...
We'll see if Raju is serious about wanting to move to Buffalo...
Maybe you've noticed, but most probably haven't - my current watermark updated this year to read Copyright 2007-2017.
Yes, that's right, Living In The Buff is celebrating 10-years of photography this year!
Whether it's been events, public happenings, creative concepts, portraits, or just images of everything there is to love about Buffalo, I've amassed quite a library of photography. So all summer long, I will be releasing some never before seen images, dating back to when Living In The Buff got started! I hope everyone will enjoy it, and thank you for being a fan of Living In The Buff!
This is one of the most random collections of artistic clips compiled into a music video I’ve ever experienced.
Sometimes you just have to see things as they unfold...
Ever wonder what the inside of the Buffalo Grain Silos are like today?
Check out Explore Buffalo and take one of their vertical tours of the silos in 2015!
January 3, 2007
The morning began like so many others recently... no sleep, an early morning ride to the airport, and a flight scheduled to take off earlier than most people will wake up on a Wednesday.
As the plane taxied down the runway, the pilot announced, “We’re 2nd in line for departure; flight attendants please take your seats.” I knew that meant a quick release by air traffic at the destination.
We passed another airline’s flight, sitting in the penalty box. A Northwest flight, most likely bound for Detroit. A much busier and less organized airport than the one I am heading to. But I’ve been there too. Twenty or thirty minutes sitting on a tarmac waiting for the flight to be released. Sometimes it’s too much traffic, sometimes it’s fog. They have my sympathy, but I’m glad it’s not my flight.
Today is going to be a whirlwind job. A flight, five-hundred miles in one direction, grab a car, drive another hour… all to do about 30 minutes worth of work. Then, turn around and make the same trip in reverse to get home for work the next morning. Sixteen hour days have become the norm. Less than four hours of sleep have become more common.
As I finish the last couple sips of a bloody mary and the flight attendants hurriedly rush by to clean up everything they’ve previously distributed to the first class passengers. I settle back into my seat, gazing out my window. The sun is just starting to illuminate the horizon; the sky is a fire red beneath high clouds to the east. The plane turns to head down the runway in the opposite direction. Now facing west, the glow of a brilliant full moon bathes the cabin in a pale light. Against what is still a night sky to the west, the moon is a magnificent sight, quietly following the airplane as would a concerned parent watching over a child.
The jets just outside the window whine as they power up, firing and coaxing the plane forward down the runway. The pilot increases the thrust, causing me to press back into my seat. I love this feeling. Not even halfway down the runway, the plane tilts back and with a gut dropping sensation I can feel the very moment the plane has ceased its contact with the ground below.
I lean and rest my head on the hard plastic wall next to me, and watch as the lights outside rapidly become the lights below. The climb is steep. Features once recognizable, within seconds become scenery resembling the tiny model houses, building, cars and trains I once played with when I was much younger.
Some days, I still wish I got to play with them.
The tall buildings of the city to the west come into view; their lights, green and red for the holidays, standing out against the empty blackness of the calm, dark lake behind them. The full moon still shining down, enveloping the landscape, creating white streaks of light on the rivers surrounding the city. As the flight moves further south, banking slightly to the left, the moon’s glow fully illuminates the once dark and invisible water of the lake. The ripples on the surface, now fully visible - the water seems to glow as bright as the moon above it. It is an amazing sight, to see the contrast and the change as the plane climbs higher above the city I know as home.
Yet another day has begun. I try to read the new airline magazine, but it cannot hold my attention. My mind is too distracted – not by the job ahead, not by what I’m leaving behind for the day… but… by other things.
My next bloody mary arrives and still I ponder. What will my life be like in five years? Will I be here for my children? Will I ever find what I’m seeking?
I take out my laptop and jot notes. I prepare a spreadsheet I will need when I arrive. The attendant comes to let me know what gate my connecting flight will depart from when I arrive at the hub.
Still, my thoughts are distracted…
Outside the sun has made its presence known. The sky further south is now a hazy blue. The mountains below now alternate light and shadows. Their peaks, orange and brown from the sun’s warming light, while their valleys are still shroud in darkness and pockets of fog. The moon shines dimly above; losing its dominance in the well lit sky as it seeks the horizon to the west.
I pour my next bloody mary and with each passing minute am closer to my first stop. I close my eyes….
And I capture with a lens all of the light there is to see
A passing moment in time; a moment that will cease to be
Now a moment that will exist forever for you, and forever for me
Light made to art, by a spirit trapped but still so free
In this marvel of a jar, I can hold time tight
Everything that this moment is, by capturing the light
Time yielding its moments to an image, and halting its forward flight
To let us reflect on what was, and where we were, when the time is right
Call me a time traveler, and this box is my time machine
I am a merchant of memories; spending a currency of what is and what is unseen
What I gather and what I see in my world, and in my mind, and what has been
With love, and passion, and art and soul, I salvage your memories and dreams
So travel with me in this world, like the sands washing on to the shore
In waves always constant but never same; some in a whisper and some in a roar
Relive what once was; recapture the time, the youth, the feelings, and more
Created merely from light, to bring your memories to life, and let your imagination soar
A story from my travels - March 2008.
Stuck in Oklahoma City. Weather moving through Chicago, all flights to the east are cancelled or delayed, including my cancelled flight to Chicago.
But they moved me to American Airlines. They have a flight to Chicago that is delayed, but not cancelled...
Me: "So, American Airlines's pilots know how to fly into Chicago when there is weather, but United's pilots don't?"
Ticket Agent: *blank stare*
Why does United constantly cancel flights through O'Hare whenever there is even a hint of weather?
Besides the fact United has picked some of the WORST locations for hub airports; Chicago, Denver...
Maybe when choosing an airport to fly 30-40% of all of your domestic flights from, you should pick an airport where the weather doesn't suck 90% of the time???
Just a thought.
Never mind. That flight cancelled too.
Stuck in Oklahoma, and no KC, this isn't OK.
I even tried to get a flight to Vegas and red-eye back to Philly. Best I could do was a 5:30am out to Detroit.
But I had a very helpful and sympathetic ticket agent assisting me who gave me a free hotel room voucher, a dinner voucher and a breakfast coupon for the airport tomorrow morning.
She also commented several times I was the nicest and most patient person she had to help all day.
...see? Being nice is always the best, first approach.