Beneath the Surface

It’s amazing how even the smallest stones in the depths of the river effect the way the water moves at the surface.

The softly spoken reflections of the artist Andy Goldsworthy surveying the “Rivers and Tides” that are the living canvas of his own work.

Art always seeks to reveal the hidden. Find the cause behind the effect.
And although seemingly obscure, even the smallest particle of dust contains within it, the memory of a supernova. In the hidden depths of our heart, we also contain a memory. A memory that its stirred during advent in the way a seed stirs in the frozen, clay soil of winter.

Awoken slowly by a breath of warmth.

A breath of Hope amidst the barren effects of a cold season.

Along the embankments muddy reddened iron pebbles sunken into the riverbeds like red blood cells. Releasing unseen energy and nutrients that feed the life of the water. The small grey slates, plain and ordinary shifting placidly like miniture platlets in the cold depths.
All, in their way, choreographing the dance of currents and ripples that collide and tangle like silk ribbons along the river’s surface.

These unseen things effecting the seen.

• A prayer for the one we love.
• An unnoticed, sacrifice offered once again without hesitation.
• A father’s blessing for his grown child.
• A friendly welcome for a stranger
• The hope to keep forgiving.
• A place of communion carved out of chaos, Before the storms calm with words of faith that whisper “Peace be still”
• A heart that can yeild and remain still to hear that same whisper amongst the clatter of pots and pans and streaming tears.
• As well as in the singing of childish songs never forgotten.
• Sincerity offered, to a jaded ear.
• A joyful reminder returned gratefully to a weary heart.
• The bringing of hope’s candle in the dark corners of the world.
• A gift freely given,


• A Bread broken apart.
  And shared out.
  

Under the surface, unseen, hidden, waiting.
Preparing a course for the rising waters.
Digging deep in the times of drought.
Channelling, streams back to their source.
Each prayer, each sacrifice, each kind word, a gift.

Recieved and given back with in an open palm.

In Advent there is much happening beneath the surface of tinsel and trinkets and gift wrap and holly wreaths of commerciality.

A child is soon to be born in a poor stable in an out of the way town. A place hidden from obvious view.
His birth announced first to the poor, the lowly, the humble and childlike. The ones who are hidden, obscure, unknown, unassuming, unremembered.

Bearing “Beneath the surface” gifts for the babe in the manger. Gifts of the heart.

Each one a small shell that carries the song of the sea as a memory within, till once again the waves reclaim it as their own.
Rising and falling, rising and falling beneath hope's breath.

*

Blaise Pascal:
"The least movement is of importance to all nature. The entire ocean is affected by a pebble."

Thanking study in brown for the reccomendation of Rivers and Tides