Life Coaching, Observations, Reflections, Things that make you go hmmmmm
I got out for a walk last evening and found me a rainbow.
I like rainbows, one from Jersey and one from Niagara Falls.
Here in the City it looked like the rainbow sprung from one building and touched down on a different building. You decide which is which.
I wasn’t the only person grabbing a few shots of the rainbow. Ran in to someone I know and suggested they have a walk around the corner to see what I just told you, roof to roof.
Standing there watching the rainbow, sure it made me think of Kermit.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WS3Lkc6Gzlk
It also made me think that maybe it was 2 rainbows with a common beginning or end, you decide.
G.R. Hambley ©
August 14, 2018
One of the community friendlies stopped to speak with me in a coffee spot. We know each other to smile and nod. The personable “I know you as part of my community” stuff that personable people do.
It was related to me that this individual had their bicycle stolen. Three locks cut right off the bike rack of their car which was in their condo parking spot and stolen.
I was being asked to do something if I saw the bike. I noted that risking a confrontation could lead to violence and it isn’t worth it over a bike.
We talked about policing in Toronto. Naturally enough, this person wasn’t pleased and to a degree, understandable. This person went further with their distaste for the police. I was rebutting with what Toronto’s finest must cope with in violent crime among other things.
The individual went on to tell me they were going to a 50th anniversary party that night.
The party was for an individual who was marking 50 years as a draft dodger.
There were a goodly number of low frequency words used by me to illustrate my disgust. None of the words I used were curses.
The individual brought up the politics and I cut that short with the politics of the Viet Nam war are a different argument and I don’t disagree with the futility geo and political of that police action that became a war.
Dodging the draft is an absolute hot button for me. You are a coward.
There is no argument “for” the dodging the draft and I told the individual so. I explained my reasoning, directly.
There is a level of service in my family. The small piece I have is just a scratch compared to others in my family and the good people who serve and have stood in service to our countries. Yes countries, I have American family who have served.
Along with being draft dodgers, they’re illegals. I have zero tolerance for both. Draft dodgers are also illegal aliens, period end of story. Neither will ever be welcomed by me in my Canada. I’m far from the minority on this one.
It is my position that all illegals should be returned to their country of origin so naturally that includes draft dodgers.
There is a status of “Conscientious Objector”. The “CO” was used by Cassius Clay and you probably know him better as Muhammad Ali. You can if you care to, research what it cost Ali to take the position he did.
My Time as a Vietnam War-era Conscientious Objector
A Conscientious Objector in a War Zone
Muhammad Ali: the world’s ‘greatest’ conscientious objector
The point is that these individuals didn’t turn their backs to their country and run!
I also said to the individual I was speaking with that the person celebrating his 50th anniversary of the dodge is a coward. There were avenues and I fucking grant you that Leavenworth isn’t exactly palatable but…
G.R. Hambley ©
July 09, 2018
This isn’t an “If I can do it you can do it” piece. There is nothing Machiavellian going on here. It goes on elsewhere and I’m working on that too!
So, I’m now a couple months in to my 60’s and it just aint that big of a deal going from my 50’s in to my 60’s.
The greater emotional turmoil was going from my 30’s in to my 40’s. You soon realise on reaching that number, it’s the backside of life. There was an emotionality in that number that just is not present in the number I’ve now reached.
I’ve spoken with a few of my age group and the few I’ve spoken with concur that the 40;s was tougher than the 50’s or 60’s.
We’ve now touched the age factor and I’ve had a walk around so lets move on to the single aspect at my semi advanced age.
It comes down to choices folks. The choices you make for yourself. I said it before and I say it again, if you care to navigate the world from your armchair, so be it. If you want different you can have different with change. Maybe have a walk around and ponder on it. Who knows what you’ll see.
Film is one of my things and for several years I stopped going. I love film and yet I lost all interest in seeing anything new. It became firmly entrenched when “Abraham Lincoln Vampire Slayer” was released, that there is nothing new and the reaching that was getting done to be different
That thought, the emotion, everything has been done hung me up at one time in my own works. Then I had the realization that while everything may have been done, it hasn’t been done my way.
Now when I go to films, I watch them differently. I’m more interested in how others deliver their art and I watch more critically with my artists eye.
I’ve seen several films in recent weeks and went to them all with only me for company. I enjoy my company and I hope you are someone who enjoys the self.
Having someone to talk with about the film, among other things after you’ve seen it over Strawberry Rhubarb pie, and coffee and/or what ever your little hearts desire.
Something to nibble after a film, is nice as we all know, and when it’s an ear, all the nicer. If films aren’t your thing, there’s always “Sippy Hole Racing” you can watch from that coveted armchair or hammock.
Doesn’t matter if film isn’t your thing. Maybe there is something else in your life you can rediscover from a different perspective? A new adventure with an old love.
One of the films I went to see was, “Book Club”. The audience demographic was quite interesting. Mostly female and some there by themselves.
A good time was had by all who attended. Why? Because funny isn’t age or gender specific is why. We older people know more funny shit than younger people do. We’ve had much more time to refine our “Snarkasm”.
Going to a restaurant alone is an issue for any number of single people. It was a minor issue for me too, for a time.
I’ve always done things by myself. Going and doing alone, not an issue that carries much weight with me still and I believe never will.
I think the most difficult part of going to a restaurant alone is in seeing couples or families enjoying their meals and the company they’re sharing even more. I believe that’s when the loneliness hits. Those emotional pangs turn to bites.
The intimate moments most of us love and I’m not talking about sex. Intimacy and sex are different things my fellow animals.
Yeah I know, the back row at the movies makes for nice intimate moments. If you could have your moments coincide with oh say, the crash and bang on the screen…
We would all be appreciative!
The emotionality and physicality hasn’t changed for me one bit now that I’m well over the hill. I can assure you the feeling hasn’t changed for a number of people in my age demographic.
The emotionality doesn’t appear to have changed for any of those that were enjoying “Book Club” by themselves. Out and enjoying the things they like to do, period. I also suggest going and seeing that film. It will appeal to all generations.
The reality of what we are talking about in this piece is the private hell that is your emotional headspace. You gotta be able to stand that space!
Beauchamp Gallery King Street East, Toronto.
Coping with the “I’m going alone” headspace?
I am for the most part, a solitary creature. I enjoy my own company and usually, my own headspace. That previous sentence, there are those that would tell you I’ve just described myself as a loner. A loner who would have no issues going almost anywhere alone. Not liking crowds is not the same as being a loner.
If you’re a creative, then you’ll already know that we require a good deal of solitary time. Even if pen or brush are not in hand, we could be working on something. If that is you then I suggest you ponder on whether you’re getting out enough; at least to blow the dust off.
I also enjoy my community and getting out in it.
I am personable. I’m an observational writer; got any idea how much time I spend looking around? When I meet someone’s eyes, I don’t look away like I’ve been caught looking at something I shouldn’t be, I give a little smile.
Sometimes I notice people looking my way and I smile when they look away quickly. Hey, no one did anything but look around, relax.
There are a couple people who know one of the things I do but unfortunately I don’t have the recognition of a Warhol or Vargas. You can look or trust that I’m a visual artist as well.
I like recognizing the people in my community and that they recognize me.
Even when I’m not seeing anything I’m looking around, non-vacantly. It’s a writer/creative thing.
Getting out and meeting people will require eye contact. If you aren’t comfortable with eye contact I suggest you start with your self, in the mirror, while you tell yourself it’s okay to be and go alone because alone doesn’t mean lonely.
I could ramble around this path until the cows come home. While I’ve been generationally centric in my examples, the feelings are the same for all of us.
Nobody wants to go alone. Many of all ages feel there is a stigma attached to going somewhere other people, couples, families and friends are and there you are alone, embarrassed.
These are feelings you’ll have to find a way to overcome if you want more of the world than what you see on your devices from where ever you’ve decided to park!
This is a good story and worth the read.
Go To The Movies Alone.
http://www.toulouseandtonic.com/go-movies-alone/
I’ve left the hardest part for last, human romantic relationship. Y’all had to know I’d get to it.
With the societal situation we live in today there is a great fear, especially for men that if you approach anyone because they interest you, the approach will be perceived as “harassment”. or possibly “Gold Digging”. We do have to cover all the bases folks and while harassment does happen so does opportunity seeking.
I reiterate, there are only two places and two places only where you meet people, at work and in your activities. Almost everything comes down to two things. Don’t forget your fractions, lowest common denominator.
I know. Trust me I know. With the anger and distrust between the sexes it is difficult to know how to approach anyone.
That brings me back to getting out and doing things you like. There will be other people there like you doing something they enjoy.
If you go to these places with the mindset you’re going there just to enjoy yourself with others who are of a like mind, you’ll (once past the initial jitters) have a good time. Go for yourself and if you meet new friends or someone interesting, lucky you.
If you’re of younger generation and you are thinking about having a family. Your chances of meeting someone at work are not real good. Maybe find symposiums you can go to that are field related.
I actually feel somewhat sorry for the people who live to work (we all know those types) because the chances of meeting someone like you at your place of employment where a hello could get you in in deep sit….. Sitting and listening to HR preach to you on how you must say hello…. Get out and play in traffic where it’s safer for your sanity.
So what is it I want you wonder? This is subject to change but what I want currently is a fulfilling monogamous relationship with autonomous roof.
Like other of my generation and it is a pretty good way to be with relationship so me, I am both looking and not, at many things.
G.R. Hambley ©
July 02, 2018
Evolving and adapting ‘tisn’t so for every such thing
Maturation hasn’t taken what is desirously alive
Byways in sunset years, a life long constant smoulders
Eagerly and ambivalently skipping stones in this new old age
Relations and passing ships should they dock or not
Solely isn’t lonely, without young angst, this heart still seeks
G.R. Hambley ©
May 01, 2018
The time is March 04, 2018 and in in one of those favoured coffee spots I had a brief conversation with a couple of young women who are students in higher education. They were studying and doing schoolwork. They are articulate, concerned and conduct themselves well. Nice kids.
Yes, some of them kids are alright and other kids are perfect shits. This is about a couple of alright ones. Nothing different in that analysis as compared to my generation at that age.
Everybody was minding their own business and one of the girls lamented a lack of money. Having been a student and knowing what it’s like to be a financially depressed student, I can appreciate their laments.
We talked for a few minutes about school, getting the higher education and getting a job after graduation. These two women are cognizant of the fact that you don’t get big money when you start out. We talked about starting out and the current state of business and what you could well encounter in today’s business climate.
I was interested in hearing what they had to say. We can call that observational writing and professional development with me being both a writer and a teacher.
I did reveal to these 2 young ones of peoplekind* that I am a teacher and when asked by one of them, I copped to my field being English.
One of the young ladies emphatically stated I look like an English Teacher** and the other quickly agreed. As a point of information and I didn’t share it with the young ladies, my official title is, “Curmudgeonly Philosopher Poet”.
I thanked them and noted it must be my pony tail; we laughed.
I did not get in to the rest of my skill set, mostly. Starting out in a trade was spoken of but the Life Coach and Writer were left in the wings.
We talked about what they’re encountering with education. I did not go in to the higher education indoctrination as it wasn’t the place for it. One of the young ladies did state with some frustration and tone of resignation in her expression about the shoving of there being “one way and one way only” at them.
Yeah, I wanted to drop the indoctrination piece on them and didn’t do it. These two are already cognizant and aware.
I did show them the poster for an event promoted by George Brown College where they take the position of anti-trump and do not support him.
These two kids agreed that George Brown had no business interjecting their beliefs on a foreign election.
I would like to say that the frustration is from something other than higher education’s social sciences but I believe I would be wrong to say that and, well unlike the seats of higher learning, I’m never wrong.
We talked about what their generation is facing in the job quest as compared to what my generation encountered when starting out on the after school adult life. The two young women figured my generation had it tougher than theirs does starting out.
I believe their generation has a more difficult time than mine did and we talked about why from both our perspectives.
This would be a good time to identify the conversationalists. We have me, a Caucasian male who’ll be 60 in a few weeks. One young woman, whom if you were going to categorize based on her features and complexion, you would probably say Middle Eastern. The 2nd young woman, based on features, East Indian.
All of us with an above average vocabulary and the ability to convey our thoughts.
Whether they are first gen Canadian or not is irrelevant. What is relevant are the concerns and values.
Everyone the age of these women, male and female alike consider themselves to be so grown up. These 2 from my brief experience are on the right path but they are still kids. No, no I didn’t use the “Well you’re a kid and….” approach. That condescending and dismissive behaviour pissed me off when I was their age so why would I lay that trip on them?
At their age I was an apprentice and the 3 of us talked about the trades. Both of them related the “Stigma” of the trades. Both spoke on how (paraphrasing) the trades are manual labour and seen as being beneath so many other jobs.
I told them it was a trade I started in and yes, the trades are demanding and dirty. We touched a little on the fact that you can’t be stupid and be a good tradesman.
I can move my mouth, my hands and my mind on different things all at the same time.
The women agreed there just aren’t many who are working and or looking to be employed in the “White Collar Sector” can do what I and other tradesmen learned how to do.
I’m not going to have the pronoun gender debate either. If you make it you’re a mechanic or journeyman or as in my case, a Smithy.
Does the expression, “Less chatter more clatter” mean anything to anyone reading this tale? If yes, were you on the receiving or delivery end?
I asked the young ladies what they figured a union mechanic in my trade makes an hour. They missed it on the low side by about 50%.
Lets use the person who cuts, styles, blows your hair. This is a trade and if you’ve never thought about it, that person is most probably talking to you about something that isn’t hair related while they work on you. If their hands aren’t moving and their mouth is, that person needs to stop talking and just do the work. I chose a hair care because of the interaction that usually takes place between the parties in that industry.
We talked about starting out and the different dynamics for them now and for me then.
When I started out there was still quite a bit of “Find that one secure company”, get a job and put in your 40 years. A couple people I went to High school with went on to work for “Bell Canada”, the phone company.
The one company until you’re done days are long gone and I don’t see them coming back. These days if you spend more than about 10 years with any company your personal motivation is questioned.
Me and the kids talked about some of the factors that affect how business gets done these days and the conversation went to outsourcing which led in to taking care of your own first.
We agreed that there is far too much outsourcing.
For these kids, and they know it, working in the industry where their degree is may not happen. When I came out of my last session of trade school, those that went on to colleges and universities were finishing up their studies and looking to join the work force.
I’m certain some Free Range Globalist will object to what I relate now because it smacks of “POPULISM”. GASP!
Canadian values have been in and out of the social media spotlight.
Me and the women talked about values and they feel like I feel. You take care of your own first and then if you have extra, you can help others.
We have issues and infrastructures that must take precedent. Canadians without clean water and adequate housing take precedent over others in other countries.
People like to say charity starts at home. Taking care of our issues and matters is not charity and it is the correct thing to do.
Most Canadians feel this way. The number is probably right around 66%.
Them kids and me, we also agreed that the people must be more diligent with removing the old bad politicians for new good ones.
Canadian values are fine and being relayed to the kids. I was lucky enough to encounter a couple of good ones.
G.R. Hambley ©
March 20, 2018
*PEOPLEKIND
This is what we call a joke. Should someone care to pass it along to Canada’s Prime Minister, “Gerald Butts” and the Clown Prince, “Justin Trudeau”, please do.
** “Ray Barnes of the purple granny glasses, my grade 9 English Teacher would be so proud.
Among all the other smiles
There you were dancing free
Your gypsy skirt flying high
Girl you caught more than my eye
Couldn’t help but watch you move
Hair water falling down your back
You caught me staring madly
Saw your eyes make me your mark
Keeping time with those devilish hips
Lips sending me your angel kiss
Gypsy woman crooks her fingertip
Calling with her wiles to play her game
The same music keeps playing on
Everyone with their own old verse
Those others don’t have the sense to go
We gotta romance and they’re in the road
G.R. Hambley ©
February 23, 2018
Softly creeping comes the light
seeping through your prison’s glass
Masking out the stations of the cross
along your rotting creaky floor
Memories leaking from the dripping faucet
that’s really your beleaguered mind
Swirling slowly away you, cry
washing them down the drain
Hey you, you up there,
can you feel her stare?
Hey you, you listening up there,
can you take her despair?
Hey you, you watching up there,
can you show you care?
Once there shone glimmers of hope
now there’s only the hanging hemp
Taking your place in the stations
last light the signal of descent
The shrieking beams might as well
be your muted screams
Alone in your corner you swing
twisting over all the years left unspent
Hey you, you up there,
couldn’t you feel her stare?
Hey you, you listening up there,
couldn’t you take her despair?
Hey you, you watching up there,
couldn’t you show you care?
G.R. Hambley ©
February 01, 2018
All round the world, love is deceiving
Mountains of love have been moved
Ashes and residues, marking such proved
Disciples crow that they are the deserving
Look hard, look twice at what you know
You think your wiles make everyone smile
Please see there are some whom you revile
Living to love when craving life’s marrow
Each and every way, not trying to understand
A null place, your heart‘s on your worn face
Stings under veils, still showing every trace
Angels in tattered wings working their plan
Night’s glitter faded to day wear tarnish
The door closes behind the window to your hole
Longingly watching, the abyss sinks your soul
You hang to hope knowing you’re about to perish
G.R. Hambley ©
December 22, 2017
Today is the winter solstice and tomorrow the days start getting longer again. The world turns over and while some parts of this big old world have their winter sleep, other parts welcome the days of summer.
The winter solstice to me as a spiritual person, my greatest time of reflection while looking forward to what will come next year.
For me this day is also the day of giving thanks.
Out with the old and in with the new, it just aint that simple.
I’ve so much world open to me now that all the work I did to achieve something I wanted so badly is complete. When 2017 began, I had no idea that when the year ended I’d be an English Teacher and technically qualified to teach anywhere in the world. I may have had a few of my friends shaking their heads over my commitment to achieving the goal. Thankfully, I got good friends who understand what it means to be driven, in a good way.
“Good Friend” and “Pen Pal” heard much more than others of the education path I was on. My rants were over things that would piss anyone off and had nothing to do with my abilities or lack there of. If you follow those links, you’ll get a look at the regard I have for those two individuals I call friend.
Another community friend who has become friend in our discussions and meandering around, we help each other out. He’s gifted me with some terrific photographs.
Ara Sagherian Photograph ©
He is both happy and not that I’ll be leaving. He wishes me nothing but the best. This is what you call honouring friendship on a direct emotional level. You speak the words. He took this shot
Driven and committed are not bad things though I do think those two people a couple of times would have been okay with driving me somewhere to be committed. I’m thinking it’s a shame, “The Hotel California” aint what it used to be. That is a tale I will someday write, maybe.
I’m thankful and appreciative of all my community friendlies too. The relationship is different. I talk about relationship in some of my narratives. My belief is that it is important to recognize those in your community. Most of the people do but there are a couple who just won’t. We aren’t talking about a relationship where you’re kissing someone in the ear. Being aware and personable is all we are talking about here.
I’ve a note this morning from an artist I’m fond of asking about being ready for the season and putting up the tree. The person notes going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark. I know all about those feelings and have suspected this person, like me, has some level of S.A.D., “Seasonal Affective Disorder”. I had noticed the mindset before and offered up some help.
This other artist doesn’t know what today means to means to me. I don’t know if this other artist knows where and what the “Christmas Tree” actually represents.
In this day and age, most people call it “Cultural Appropriation”. This tree thingy like any other thingy, I would hope you know the history and honour it. Simple stuff.
I’m pleased and thankful that more people from around the world visited me this year when I have published less new content than last year.
I’ve now opened my email this morning and I’m smiling big cuz someone special has gifted me a, “Happy New Year”. I love things like that. Another person special to me is thanking me for remembering their birthday. I’m blessed to know and have these people in my life. What goes around comes around folks so if ya want it ya gotta give it. I would suggest the adaptation of one of my favs, “Freely, Joyously, Willingly”.
I’m also doing grunt work as I write this at my year end. Backup, backup, backup. Losing the computer would be one thing but losing the content I’ve created would be a hell of a lot worse!
A stray thought gets triggered about days of birth as I meander along this morning. I share the same birth day as Jack Nicholson and I do tell people this should explain a lot. Those people ponder that statement, look at me and usually just nod. By that logic people born on the same day would have characteristics of others born on the same day. Not born in the same year and yes born on the same day. I have very good reason to think that.
All my life’s a circle, seasons spinning round again, the years keep rolling by. Then there is, “So off you go horizon bound”.
Thanks again Harry and I still miss you and I’m still angry with you all these years later. I can’t believe how much time has passed in my own circle of life since you left us.
My time in this place is about done and for how long I will be away, I do not know. There is no timetable beyond thinking that at age 65 I’ll have to be in Canada and teaching will be in Toronto and/or online.
I went out and got me something that goes well with what I already love and has the potential to be sustaining for a long time. I do have that 150-year plan, as some of you who read me know.
I have a couple things to put in their place including the current melancholy and wistfulness.
Do not misconstrue dear friends, I am excited to greet the future and I shall adapt to my life’s changes.
My heroes have all been story tellers and I have more stories to discover in this big beautiful world. Stories and my love for the word, that’s why I’m going.
Another friend set off a trigger, Damn drummers are almost as bad as bears for getting in to shit. This is for you and thanks man but how about Toronto California?!
And that Drummer’s trigger set this off… “I said to my reflection lets get out of this place“.
To all of you the best of this season and all seasons.
I am out of here!
G.R. Hambley ©
December 21, 2017 – New Year Eve
Chapin Photo Pinterest
Have you ever received a letter?
No, not like in a welcome from your new bank or local chapter of the Willie Wonka Candy Crush Club.
I was sitting on the patio of a favoured coffee spot and one of the good coffee elves asked me what I was doing as what I was doing didn’t include my computer. I had my big book of blank pages open in front of me and one of my 2 pens in hand. I have other utensils that make inky marks but they aint pens!
I told the good elf I was writing a letter to a cousin. I asked if they’d ever received a letter and I was told no. We talked for just a couple minutes and the Elf made the bank reference. I said, “that’s a shame”.
For those of you that are semantically challenged, in this usage, shame can also be interpreted as unfortunate and/or sad. No person real or imagined was shamed or ashamed.
I’ve received and written and sent letters. Recently I received a letter from South Korea written by a lovely lady that I had the good fortune to encounter. You can read about her and me and our prattling in my “Foreign Liaisons” piece.
I care to share something with all of you that the Lady said to me in her letter.
Being a Torontonian and a life long Boston Bruins fan, I’m not really buying that Montreal part. Centre Hice, TABERNAC! That would be a cultural reference so don’t go offending me by appropriating it!
A letter, the second one I’ve written to the Lady is making its way from me to her. I say in my letter, we Canadians are for the most part, a good people. I didn’t bust the Lady’s Montreal bubble.
Have you ever written a letter to someone and later been told by that person how it made them feel when they discovered your hand-written letter waiting for them? When they told you about that letter you sent, were you exhilarated?
If you’ve written a letter to someone, how did you feel when you were writing that letter? Were you more reflective? Were you more thoughtful and deliberate with that which you put down so as not to mar the page with strikeouts? When you were writing the letter did you appreciate that time within your own head?
There were a couple letters I wrote that I didn’t send. Have you ever written your heart out in a letter and not sent it?
If you did send a letter, did you make it so the person you sent your letter to could take it to their dreams without having to remember what you wrote? Was the letter you sent scented?
Do you care to share what you felt when you tucked that scented letter you received partly under your pillow? How’d you sleep with that scented missive beside your head? Did you wake in the night and reach to make sure that letter was still there? How did you feel when your fingers touched the envelope and you knew that letter was right where you put it?
Did you maybe reach for that letter and it wasn’t there under your pillow? It felt so good when you discovered your letter had only slipped to the floor in your slumber didn’t it. Not a question. Would you care to offer up reasoning as to why my statement wasn’t a question?
When you retrieved that letter from the floor did it join other letters you’d received that had been bound together with ribbon?
How long did you hold that bundle of letters before tucking them safely in to your sock drawer? Socks and letters, both can be warm and fuzzy don’tcha know.
The handwritten letter is a wonderful thing. Cursive writing is pretty and has character. Have you ever wondered why there are so many elegantly flowing script fonts for your electronic use? Now you know.
My penmanship is far from the best and this is because my brain insists on moving faster than my hand. This is not unusual and can be somewhat counteracted with thought. You can counteract right up to the point your brain takes off leaving your hand behind. Trust me on this.
The state of the word as it lands on the page doesn’t stop me from writing by mine own hand. I have a journal too. If you would like to call it diary you are free to do so and it won’t phase me in the least because I’m just not that insecure in my sexuality.
This is mine. There are other Journals like it but this one is mine, unique. If you’d like one, write one and before you start, get a real pen and not some cheap writing utensil.
Good pens have a different feel. A good pen has substance just like those words you’re gifting to the page. In truth I call it bleeding on the page and if that analogy works for you, help yourself. A good pen doesn’t get heavy or uncomfortable in your hand.
There are a great many people who will tell you the “Art of Letter Writing” is gone. Those people will tell you that with our technology it is just oh so much easier and faster than writing a letter. Those people would be correct but what they don’t take in to consideration is how thoughtless emails and text messages are.
I have another letter to write that will give more context to a piece of the content in a previous letter. Yes, I know that sounds terribly clinical. All I did was tell you what I’m going to do and not how I’m going to do it. You already know what I say will be thoughtful and heartfelt.
A cup of coffee, a big book with blank pages, music playing and a pen. It appears I’m being threatened with a good time.
G.R. Hambley ©
October 13, 2017
Letters bound by ribbon from;
cdn.skim.gs/image/upload/v1456343885/msi/stack-of-old-letters-tied-with-ribbon-isolated_poequj.jpg
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