Life Coaching, Observations, Reflections, Things that make you go hmmmmm

Category Archives: Photography

Boom Boom Boom

Boom Boom Boom


Boom 02sz


Boom 01sz


Boom 03sz


My city grows, and like it’s people, colourfully.

G.R. Hambley in Toronto August 13, 2017 ©


Lightning Blossom

Lightning Blossom


Lightning Blossom 001


G. R. Hambley © August 12, 2017



It works. Try it for yourself.


Curves and Lines

Curve Challenge

Toronto and I live in the core. Some of the architecture is gorgeous. Some not so much!

Me I do love the craftsman ship and beauty of Cathedrals and Churches.

Metropolitan United Church

To the left you see the needle of the CN Tower

Toronto July 29 2015 LMEA 0010007

The curves of the Cathedral and the straight lines of office boxes

Toronto July 29 2015 LMEA 0010011

Spire of St Michael’s Cathedral

The straight lines of the scaffold during restoration

Toronto July 29 2015 LMEA 0010004

G.R. Hambley – June 17, 2016
all rights reserved

Chronological Posting List


Paws For The Cause

Paws For The Cause

I’ve been trying to write pretty. I like writing pretty because of how it makes me feel. I’ve gotten some out and got some in the works.

I was working on something I believe will be pretty epic. Haven’t decided yet if the piece is going to end exhilarated or tragic. Where it is I can go either way. The certainty of the piece is that there is going to be a hell of a lot of pain.

The world keeps showing up and I find myself obligated to look and read and participate. What else anyone does or doesn’t do, their own volition. Me, I do what I can. What I can do is use my weapons of mass persuasion and drop in to the conscience of those that read me the things that blew me out of my pretty mode.

Yesterday (January 14, 2016) my notification bubble came up as I was writing. I could see who it was from and the subject. The email came from someone close and the subject was, “Upsetting”. The sender gets responses from me quickly. The person is on my you aren’t a disturbance list and always will be.

The note came from a friend on the Dark Continent. I read and looked at what I was given and things including my mood got a whole lot darker real fast.

What I read was disturbing enough. What I saw was, I can’t even find a damn word to describe what I felt when I saw. Thing is, from where it came from I knew it was real. What I saw wasn’t a prop for some horror film. I am so angry. Writing in to here I am still so angry. This isn’t the worst trip I’ve been on but is right fucking up there.

It was real. It is real. This and more are real. I am compelled to have you share the reality with me.


Paw 02


Sangoma, the believed culprit.
Sangoma, traditional healer.
Sangoma, Witch Doctor.

You see the thin rope tied around the paw. The belief is that the paw was used by Sangoma in a ritual that has to do with someone having financial difficulties, bankruptcy or poverty.

Someone pays the Witch Doctor to change their fortunes. You just saw what price the animal pays.


Paw 01


How’s that for reality? This is not gleaned information to create a tug on your heart strings piece.

My friend tells me what you just saw is a very common thing over there. Africans paying Sangomas to cast spells.

What you’ve seen isn’t even as disgusting and sickening as this tale is going to get.

I keep finding myself having to go back and edit far more than I usually do. I’m having a difficult time with composition. Telling a story well takes a certain amount of detachment no matter how attached you are personally. This shit does get my anger meter rising fast.

I’m big time attached. I’m big time angry and I’m big time questioning why the 1st World continues to help the 3rd World when they simply refuse to clean up their shit. They want our money. They want our expertise. They want our help removing their despots. Yet the shit that angers the 1st word goes on without what appears to be any consideration for the ways of the 1st world.

There is some sense of entitlement and I’ve been told about it. Told about it in the sense of 2 friends having a conversation. Me with 1st world perspectives and my friend with 3rd world perspectives.

I’m fully aware that the 1st world isn’t lily white in our dealings and some will grease the skids for easier access. We in the 1st world will also bring ours involved in corruption to task when we catch them. The 3rd world is more understanding, lenient, an acceptable cost of doing business.

The rest of this story gets even more gruesome. Nothing like a little human harvest to set the nightmare scene is there. Not a question.

Maybe a lighter mood? A joke to put you in the giggle groove?

So a wife walks in to the kitchen to make dinner, opens up the fridge and looks inside. Much to her surprise all there is to make are human hearts and other human organs. Quite the dream scream.

True story and yes I do know how and why those body parts got in the fridge. The upside if there is an upside, those body parts weren’t taken from anyone who was using them at the time. The harvesting of organs for sale to Sangomas.

Sangomas use body parts to make the traditional healing and it is in many cases deadly. They don’t tell you that part.

Many Africans hate the Sangoma while others believe. Ignorance doesn’t seem to be an issue. They’ve been told and shown different and the practice goes on. There are many of all colours that believe there should be no mercy shown to those that commit the barbarian acts.

I’ve used words and feelings from my friend in this narrative. It would have been an injustice to not use what was gifted to me.

Children. You didn’t think this witchy wonder was going to end with just body parts of the dead did you? Not my style to just stick it in without twisting it. So here’s the twist.

I’m told I wouldn’t believe the number of times children disappear only to be found dead with body parts and organs removed. I was told sometime back that children are raped by those with AIDS who believe that sex with a virgin will cure them.

My friend also tells me that the Sangoma are like drug dealers, take one down and there is always another showing up to take their place.

Recently the Government of my country committed 2.4 Billion dollars to Africa for climate control. I’m sure you’ll excuse me for believing they are worrying about the wrong fucking climate.

G.R. Hambley ©
January 20, 2016
All rights reserved

The Killing Kind – Cecil Lion Killing

Cattitude Christmas 2015

Cattitude Christmas 2015

Featuring Sammy

I’d like to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and prosperous New Year.

Just so y’all know I am nonreligious and love the spirituality of the season.

From me Gary to all of you, all the best!

Cattitude Christmas 2015

G.R. Hambley all rights reserved

Street Theatre – An Unfortunate

Street Theatre – An Unfortunate

Change is inevitable and according to many the thing that is most feared by humans.

As change goes this one is reasonably mundane as we’ve just gone from Summer to Fall. Here in Canada Thanksgiving is the 2nd Monday in October and there are already signs about for that holiday.

I live in the core of my City. The gamut runs from affluence to abject poverty. Like any where there are those with addictions and mental illness. Those with addictions and the most prevalent is alcohol. It isn’t pretty and it isn’t cute and at times it is something you choose not to deal with. Sometimes you are spectator to behaviour you simply do not understand. You are thankful, it isn’t you.

There are many who go by without really seeing what is there to be seen.

EVault01SZ EVault03SZ







A couple days ago on my other site I posted this, “Street Theatre, I act too”. I considered putting this on the other blog as it is relational and would fit. Yet reason, compassion and awareness dictate that the piece belongs here on transitionu.

The encounter with the individual a couple days ago was direct and in my face. When something gets up in your face space you gotta deal with it. How I dealt with that encounter was prudent. It was the absolute best way to handle a direct encounter. There may be others out there who think or believe I was wrong to conduct myself in the manner I did and quite frankly I really don’t care what others think. I didn’t need or want the aggravation or possible confrontation and got it stopped before anything could start without unpleasantness.

I was outside one of those 4 coffee spots I like and saw a different well known man sitting and panhandling. He also had a turkey leg. Darn fine looking turkey leg it was too. I wouldn’t have minded one of them drum sticks for myself.

This encounter was different. It was completely observational without contact. The individual is well known to the residents, merchants and those that work in the neighbourhood. I took no photograph of the individual in this encounter. To do so would have been immoral and unethical. The truth is the person didn’t even know I was standing beside them and taking photographs.

I watched the as the flesh was torn off and tossed on to the electrical vault followed by the bone.

EVault06SZ Turkey 02sz







I’ve seen many things and there just aint been a whole hell of a lot that phased me. What I saw next, well this is how I described it in a note to a friend with a couple of the turkey shots.

This guy sits for a couple minutes and then he decides he wants the bone and friend honey it was a frickin’ caveman moment. He waves the bone around and I’m not sure if it was meant to be a club or sheesh a drum stick drum stick. He then places the bone back beside the flesh. He just looks at the turkey and bone for a minute and then reaches back out. I figured oh no he’s going to eat that turkey but no, he grabs the bone, puts it in his little black bag and leaves.

I have no idea why the cover of that electrical vault mattered in this encounter but it did. If someone offered to tell me what that reasoning was I honestly don’t think I’d even want to know.

Turkey 01sz Turkey 03sz








Street Theatre and what I saw sure as hell shocked me from front row centre. The show moved me so much I just had to share the horror, surprise and utter disbelief.

I saw this man sitting and panhandling not far from the coffee spot last night. I had a couple juice boxes and handed them to the man on my way by. Not a word was spoken between us. I just continued on in to the night thinking about how this unfortunate I’d seen had changed my perspective once again.

G.R. Hambley – all rights
September 26, 3015

Core Sampling #1 – Market Day

Core Sampling #1 – Market Day

The title comes from me living right in the core of my city. For those that don’t know that city is Toronto, Ontario, Canada. I love this city and its diversity.

Market Day – Acrostic

Musing over morning coffee, sun just raising up the sleepy streets
Appetizing scents hanging in the air, new arrivals saunter in
Rustling newspapers, elbows on tables, muted conversations








Kinds of all colours, kids in summer jumpers, smiles all around
Enjoying breakfast in leisure, worldly cares for most set aside
The absence of a piece keeping time not ever noticed or needed

Market 01-sept2015-SZ

Stepping through the market doors, Saturday’s crowd no surprise
Quest for the makings of the weeks meals, something for snacking too
Up an aisle, down a row, the steps to the gallery beckon mightily

Market 02-aug2015-SZ

Availing yourself of that special sandwich you’ve been craving all week
Rubbing elbows, catching up with those that are neighbours and friends
Enjoyed by many from near and far, they know or heard of this market


Day moves along towards noon, the usual bunch heading off as usual
Another coffee spot stop beckons, most pause, a few sit in for a bit
Yet another Saturday market morn is done, and now about those snacks

G.R. Hambley ©
September 11, 2015

Once Upon A Sky

Once Upon A Sky

This like most of what I write has poignancy. This is for a lion named Cecil killed by a man in Minnesota named Walter Palmer with a major disconnect. I have a lot to say after the poetry on photograph.

Once Upon A Sky Post


Awakening gently from a late summer’s after picnic nap
Consciousness comes creeping, deliberately, deliciously, alive
Limbs sun warmed, face burnished bronze, sleep rubbed away
Overhead a world unto itself drifts, white with powder blue
Under meringue peaks, lake glimmers, sparkles, winks knowingly
Day to tuck safely away in mind for a chill fireplace night

Shapes form, they come to this, they go to that, dance for my delight
There was that, now there’s this, something new wafting in to view
Roses on rhinos, sombreros on seahorses, bells adorn beasties
Angels with whip cream smiles, halos hung on unicorn horns
Time has come to pick me up, say goodbye to this super natural sight
Azure waters whisper of one more, turn and see, a lonely lioness laments

G.R. Hambley ©
August 28, 2015

The Killing Kind

I’m thinking about you Cecil. I’m sure there are others that are thinking about you too. Those others and me, we are all wondering. We wonder how what was done to you Cecil at the pleasure of Walter Palmer can be prevented from happening to any creature for pleasure.

I’m thinking and wondering about what kind of disconnect someone has to have to not only kill you Cecil, but to kill for pleasure. Then there are the ones who’ll take the money so those with that killing disconnect can indulge their pleasure.

It is difficult for me to decide if this piece belongs on transitionu or SPASM. There isn’t anything to speak of in the smartass category but there is much in the way of personal opinion and anger. I admit to bringing my personal opinions to both Blogs but they are faceted differently.

I care to look at this disgrace with my whole self. My whole self has both Blogs. My whole self sees and reacts in different ways.

We know this instance is high profile because Cecil Lion was lured out from a preserve. We know of this pleasure killing because of the prominence of Cecil Lion. We know this killing was flat out just wrong!

You read some of Minnesota Dentist Walter Palmer’s rhetoric. I believe it is only spouted to cover his dumb ass. Consider what he says with the actuality. It doesn’t take much consideration to come to the conclusion that this individual went to Zimbabwe for the sole purpose of pleasure killing.

He calls himself a Sportsman, a Big Game Hunter. Where the hell was the sport Walter? Tell me Walter, how did the game you got that you needed for your table taste? It’s this way Palmer, all of us who deplore what you did want the answers to those questions. We know the truth. Had you told the truth there would at least be respect for telling the truth.

Yes Walter the world knows you made apology. I and others very much doubt that the apology you made was contrived and nothing more than an attempt to cover your ass. The only way to have covered your dumb ass was by not killing. You’ve proven you’re too stupid to have not shown off your kill.

Tell me Walter did you know Lions are a threatened species? If you knew then you obviously didn’t give a damn or you wouldn’t of gone to kill one for your pleasure.

So you know Wally, this one isn’t going away and if you care to you’ll be able to see for yourself in the link to what Grace Mugabe said.

Walter Palmer, what I say here you might want to take to your sick heart, for you, there is no redemption.

I went looking and reading as I was doing this piece. Bounced what I found off a good friend in South Africa. My friend made a one word comment after reading what I sent on Grace Mugabe and that word was, “crazy”. That same friend went back to my photograph with poetry and said, “she’s missing him too”.

Don’t blame Cecil the lion’s killer, says Zimbabwe’s First Lady Grace Mugabe

For you Grace Mugabe it’s this way. Were pleasure killers like Walter Palmer not looking to kill for their self gratification then there wouldn’t be greedy sleazy pimps taking the money to lead those pleasure seekers to a kill. No surprise you want to keep that foreign money rolling in.

There is no race issue here. The killing of Cecil in Zimbabwe is not a whole lot different than trafficking children for sex. The commonality is sick people with a major disconnect willing to pay large money to satisfy their pleasures.

The poetry for “Once Upon A Sky” is written the way it is with the specific intent of setting up the stick it in, twist it and then break it off. Making a killer statement, I can get behind, beside and in front of that kind of killing. The needless, senseless and unnecessary taking of life I simply cannot fathom or condone.

There are a great number of good people missing you Cecil and lamenting your loss just like the lioness in the sky is missing you and lamenting your passing. There are those who will not let this one just fade away. There are those who will speak out against the killing and do what they can to make it so that killing for pleasure stops. I am one of those people.

Oh and Cecil just so you know, the killing of you made us that wonder more aware of the ones we don’t know about and more determined to have it stop!

G.R. Hambley – August 30, 2015
All rights reserved

My Baby is 1

My Baby is 1

Got notice yesterday of my first anniversary here at WP. For those of you new to the site WP doesn’t stand for, “Word Perfect” and yet it does too.

I started this blog to showcase my talents and tastes, personal and professional. I’ve said it in other pieces that part of being a “Life Coach” is having and having had a life. I use stories and poetry and musings to share life lessons and coping skills.

I am some what miffed that the powers that be here at WordPress didn’t send me flowers on this special day so I’ve brought one of my own gathered on one of my lunch time walks. I only picked it photographically and left the flower where it was growing for others to enjoy. This flower has been shared with one other person who I met here and has become an important part of my life. The image makes a darn fine desktop wallpaper and you dear reader are free to use it as a wallpaper on your computer.

Flower - Yellow Rust - Desktop01 SGN

I do have Facebook and Linkedin accounts. Those places don’t get anywhere near the amount of time from me that my WordPress account gets.

In my time here I’ve had the chance to enjoy the works of others. WordPress along with being a place I can show my works to the world has become a major source of entertainment for me. Like everyone here there are some I follow with email notification and some that appear in my reader. I make use of and enjoy the Freshly Pressed as well.

I love the word. I love ye olde words too. One of those that I’ve really clicked with here at WP would tell you of my love for the olde if I were to tell you whom that individual is. Not gonna happen. I will tell you that here among your peers there are chances to establish real relationships just as you establish real relationships in other facets of your life.

One of the options I haven’t put in to practice is making use of the widget that allows you to display a number of your own favourite pieces. I love all my creations equally and yes there are a few that are more equal than others. If you get that reference leave me a comment.

I keep a chronological list of my postings with a wee blurb from or about the piece.

My goal when I started this Blog was to post something every two days. I look at the chronological list and the number I achieved is 205 postings. Poetry, Photography, Lyrics, Coaching, Digital Art a touch of Eroticism and a few from my Poignant Pen.

I am more than satisfied and pleased with what I’ve done on this Blog in the last year.

On Saturday past I started a second Blog, SPASM. That one is a place where I can conduct myself differently. I did it because I felt constrained. I just wanted a place that can be a different kind of voice. You can use the link and see for yourself.

I haven’t defined goals for the next year. I don’t know if there is a need to define a specific number of postings for this blog. I have gotten used to something posted for the most part, every couple days. The day in between postings leaving a gap should there be something I wish to place at the moment.

The certainty is this, I’ll keep posting and reading and enjoying my time here and wishing I had more time to spend writing and reading.

Regards to you all.

G. R. Hambley