I don’t follow any talent show in any country. I have nothing against them, personally. (more…)

I am the glass shattered
On a clear
Winter day
Appearing as ice
On an otherwise
Unbroken surface

I am the dove
Holding her sound
Against
The weight
Of the gray sky

I am the mountain
Beneath the sun
Holding the tendrils
Of winter
To not unleash
My power
Upon the plains

I am the air
You breath
Whether or not
You call me
She

*image credit: Adobe

Here are two recommended “reads”.

Obviously, the world is chockful of books recommend to read, but today, I want to share two:

1. Half the Sky

Why? Because the book “is”.

How many times do you spend a moment asking what can I do? This book is replete with organizations we can help. The book is a must read, but as you go through, you can see what resonates, and choose what works for you. The only thing we ask is that you don’t think too much and you do jump in and act. Most of the time, we (me) are drawn to these stories because on some level, we know as we get ready for the day, wave at the yellow school bus, pack lunches, have meetings, have lunch, agree as to what is ever so important, there are things on invisible levels that are occurring and because we don’t see them does not mean they don’t exist. Again, jump in, this book provides more than enough avenues for us to help each other.

I reviewed the site for “Half the Sky”, I tried to capture the endorsements, Angelina Jolie, because we like her, despite society’s attempt to bring her down, I mean really, what’s the point? She’s real. George Clooney, and more importantly, sorry George, Greg Mortensen, the author of Three Cups of Tea, the story, the book that has rocked this nation and has made it REQUIRED reading in high schools. Short: the endorsements bear witness to the enormity of what they speak: EQUALITY, RESPECT, KINDNESS, COMPASSION, LOVE.

Is it really so hard to comprehend?

I throw down my hat, I am a litigation attorney in the U.S. that can only tell you this, aside from the ones we protect on humanitarian and civil liberty issues, the rest is garbage, the stuff we should be able to figure out ourselves, peaceably, without the use of middle-people. The day may come though, when enough voices raise, when we don’t need attorneys (including me) and we trust and care for one another.

2. Girl Mary, by Petru Popescu

…because he portrays Mary as a female, as a beating heart, as one heck of a contender.

There is a particular scene in the movie, Zathura, that came as close as anything has to my mental wanderings of what it would be like if my soul and my human self were to meet each other in the same moment.

At the end of the film, the “older”, (I say that gently, older compared to an adolescent), male character that has been battling the forces with the children, reaches out and touches the one brother on the shoulder, his younger, shadow self.

I wonder, is that what it would be like? A fun house mirror reflection looking upon itself?

I’m afraid you will have to watch it to see what I mean….(actually, it is a wonderful film, so I take that back, I’m not afraid to recommend that at all.)

Words…

What are words?

I used to believe words were comprised of language, letters, consonants, vowels, pronunciations.

Now I am not so sure.

Are not words pre-formed images, that sometime before adopting, we agree are to be transmitted?

Is not the unfinished painting above a compilation of words?

“Before she became ill, David’s mother would often tell him that stories were alive. They weren’t alive in the way that people were alive, or even dogs or cats. People were alive whether you chose to notice them or not, while dogs tended to make you notice them if they decided that you weren’t paying them enough attention. Cats, meanwhile, were very good at pretending people didn’t exist at all when it suited them, but that was another matter entirely.

Stories were different, though: they came alive in the telling. Without a human voice to read them aloud, or a pair of wide eyes following them by flashlight beneath a blanket, they had no read existence in our world. They were like seeds in the beak of a bird, waiting to fall to earth, or the notes of a song laid out on a sheet, yearning for an instrument to bring their music into being. They lay dormant, hoping for the chance to emerge. Once someone started to read them, they could begin to change. They could take root in the imagination, and transform the reader. Stories wanted to be read, David’s mother would whisper. They needed it. It was the reason they forced themselves from their world into ours. They wanted us to give them life.”

The Book of Lost Things, John Connolly, copyright 2006, p. 3.

Israel Kamakawiwo’Ole ‘IZ’ ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ HQ
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ltAGuuru7Q]
Take a moment.

What absolute beauty.

Many times when asking for advice, some of us start out, not realizing we want our own opinion or belief confirmed.

Then, we become frustrated with the person speaking to us that we sought out to begin with, the unwitting victim.

Next time you seek advice, seek counsel from yourself first, ask:

what is it I’m hoping to hear?
what are the chances I will hear what it is I want?
Would it be better if I just recorded my own voice to play back the words as often as I desire?

-S.E.

Susan Boyle – Singer – Britains Got Talent 2009 (With Lyrics). Watch this now!

Bravo! I think we should all send her kisses! She has graced us.

Blessings,

S.E.

*See also: CNN

Could this be the best complaint letter ever? This letter recently received by the Virgin Atlantic customer complaints team is currently being hailed on news blogs everywhere. Surface Earth joins the fun to share with our friends and readers. This is the funniest customer complaint letter ever I have ever seen. How about you?
(more…)

To open
to live
to breath
the kiss of the immortal
As I sell myself
against time
not as nice as I used to be
half as nice
as I may be tomorrow
I kick at the confines
soap bubbles dispersing
in the water
leaving film
my fingernail scratches
the outer edges
beginning to claw
the blue
at the edge
of vision
pulling back
light from beneath
shudder
now silent
resting on the counter
dishes pulled from the washer
a cycle complete

Against the sky
I breath
watching you take flight
I don’t count
how many you are
I see only
one
until later,
much later,
when I print you,
against,
time.

What is the sound,

of one heart,

sighing?

One heart,

crying,

ripping,

tearing?

What is the sound,

can there be,

when no one outside of yourself

can hear it?

Or is sound,

an image,

something transfixed,

transported,

into gesture and face?

Can we hear the sound

of a heart breaking

in visual imagery?

Imagine this,

if you will,

falling,

through a moment in time,

when life becomes reversed,

when the difference,

between what is and what isn’t,

is no difference at all,

where there are no lines.

Imagine if you will,

having,

in fact,

the wrong look,

the wrong intonation,

the wrong laugh,

and imagine,

that is all it takes

to make you into

the other.

What is the sound,

of a heart breaking?

What does it mean,

to be the other?

Who must you be first,

where must you stand,

to call

another

of your brothers

or sisters,

the other?

May peace be with you.

Surface Earth

sorrow11

The Labryrinth Shop

Is it my camera or is it my hand? takes blurry photos….but I needed to share, this is a woman, an artist, that shares and shares and shares.

The above is a one of a kind begging bowl.  You must see it to believe it.  You must feel it to sense the energetic love.  The card in the photo reads:

“The begging bowl is a visual reminder, it can be worn, hung on a {rearview} mirror, or anywhere it can be seen to remind you.  Remind you that every day Life brings things to you, it places these moments in the bowl of your day.  It is up to You to use these moments to nourish your heart, your mind, your spirit.”

I’m not sure how to convince you to jump to her shop, but please do, she gives back, constantly, without a thought.  Pass this on.  Let’s show what the power of kindness can do….pass it on, to ten, then ten more then ten more again.  Let’s do it, let’s see if we can pass this on to at least hit the million mark.

And Sorrow, when you stop in, feel free to tell us more, and please, do not be  humble, share with us the stories of the works on your site, the homeless that have been given a space to try to earn money, the free gifts you send your fellow bloggers, shout it from the mountain girl, I know you will only take the profits and give them away, even though I pray you keep a tiny bit for yourself.

Peace.  I never tell you to do anything, I am telling you now, pass this on to as many as you can, link it to your blogs, go to the shop, you will be rewarding the kind and gentle and unselfish heart of the artist, Sorrow11.

Surface Earth

Dear Marian:

I share here, your artistic success:  The Witch of Portobello, by Marian and the Gang

To the rest of the community, this is in part, a response to an earlier post of mine, an invitation of Paulo Coehlo, a truly cool Brasilian writer, inviting emerging film artists to participate in the interpretation of one of his books:  See prior link here

Blessings.

SE

Tonight,
I need to offer prayers for those I know,
and those I have come across.

Recently,
I have met,
and have known,
spiritual people,
battling odds.

I ask tonight,
that you join me,
and offer up loving intents,
not focused on their issues,
the lack,
but on the positive,
to imagine and visualize
the people I speak of,
as
whole
and beautiful
and healthy.

Think healthy,
think whole,
think loved.

I thank you in advance.
You are beautiful souls.

Peace be unto you.

Slumber
Envelops me
Its knotty
Gnarled veins
Disguised
As time
Creeping
Slithering
Tip
Tip
Toeing
As
Otherwise mine

Soft
Velvet
Fingers tracing
The Navaho existence
Of the planes
Of my
Cheeks
Standing
Against the sky

Except

When

They

Don’t

Falling
Pray
Prey
To this
Mortal
Immortal
Existence
Playing bingo
With time

You must have heard them, haven’t you?

The almost, indescribable sounds of night.

Not the ones that keep you waiting on your next breath,

the ones removed,

silent,

peacefully exhaling.

You wonder sometimes,

how it can be,

that the same darkness

can breed such separate sets of emotion,

but it happens,

doesn’t it?

Just like in the day.

I was touched this evening,

very touched,

by words in a book,

I found,

in a dollar store today.

I mean no disrespect to the author,

paying such a slight amount.

Is it an excuse that it is all the vendor asked

and I did not bargain down further?

Without further ado, I share:

“Don’t you know she is the one who came out of her mother’s womb, leaving her mother dead?

Do you know who brought her from the hospital? Her mother’s brother, who didn’t even cry that night. Not one teardrop? No.

Unknown to them, you see what they say.

Will you keep your back turned, angry and hurt? Or will you put on a smile, walk straight into their waiting arms, into their trap of pity? I don’t know.

All I know is that in this city of twelve million, if six or seven, even ten people, say words that hurt, they are a speck in the ocean. Wait for a while, the moon will slide into the right place, the clouds will gather, there will come a tide and with it a wave that will wash this speck away.”

-The Blue Bedspread, by Raj Kamal Jha

I say to you then, namaste, in your deepest moments of the night, “the moon will slide into the right place.”

Tranquility

creeps

the ivy on the vine

forgotten

but for a few

the car travelling

an unknown path

feet taking

around a corner

the eye

willing to see

what was not seen before

but tranquility

ah

it almost pardons itself

excuse me,

is this seat taken?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFHjUzEk0iI&rel=1]

I woke up this morning,

storm clouds brewing outside,

and in that moment before my waking self realized I was awake,

a song was singing in my head,

and I say singing,

because it was a chorus of voices ringing out….

“Rise and Shine….and give God your glory, glory!  Rise and Shine…and give God your glory, glory….Rise and Shine and give God your glory, glory, children of the …(Lord?  World?  Earth?  No, scratch that, go with one of the first two.)

So there I am with this song blaring in my otherwise semi-unconscious mind looking out at tree limbs and storm clouds and believing it is Saturday…..yet, despite this lack of lucidity (hmmm, lack?) the song persisted.

Then it hit me after a few refrains….I hadn’t thought or heard of the song since I was a kid at camp sleeping in the woods in platform tents.  Where had that memory been hiding?  Had it been snatched from the Universe circling around on its way to the Recycle Bin?  Was it pre-programmed to kick start some part of myself that had been dormant?

Regardless it’s back and it’s still blaring in my mind, yes, right in the background even as I type these words to you.  And the cool part is, we used to see who could be the loudest singing and stamping our feet during that song, so I’ve got a whole singing stampede heralding me through the day!

Today, sing as loud as you can and stamp those feet, raise your arms up and live!

There is never a moment

I do not feel

The fleeting joy

Of the smile of your face

The curves of your cheeks

The lift to your eyes

For whatever else

We have been born to

It is not the promise

Of an earthly tomorrow

If I take a moment

And affix upon you

My battered eyes

I will not see

If I take a moment

And

Reclaim

The eyes I used

As a child

Then

I will see

You

As you

See me

It comes down now-or should I say they?

Dropping,
Washing,
Pouring,
Filtering,
The end of my day.

The resevoir of sound
Coats and soothes
This otherwise me
Willing it to turn to snow.

To awake at five in the morning
Tomorrow
To rush to the window
On the tip
Of
My toes
To hold
And waiver there
Here
Peeking
Leaning
Into the glass
Of the
Next moment.

Hello.

I hope the holidays have found you all well.

If not financially, then physically.

If not physically, then spiritually.

Regardless, we wish you well.

Our holiday was chaotic and blessed.

I was hoping for some paints in the stocking, but alas, the Divine does not want me painting right now.

Until then, I share, the “Unfinished”.

Well, there are a lot of things we can all do.

We can donate money, if we have it.

We can collect outgrown clothes and toys and donate.

When we only have time, if we are so lucky, then we can donate that and it is invaluable.

I’m just on the learning curve with “Make It Right”: bringing people back to their homes in New Orleans.

I’m thinking it’s worth a look, they say you can pledge to buy a solar panel, a home, perhaps a door? For some of us, maybe we can only donate the price of a lock or a bit of sunshine.

At any rate, take a look, let’s make someone’s day……………MakeItRight Nola.Org

Join me, start a song, type unbidden, let’s see where we are, the SurfaceEarth exchange

……

Across the sky

I stand

breath

silence

looking up

two birds come across

they wink at me

it no longer matters

I don’t need the sign

they were simply waking me up all of these months and years

rolling

across the top of the ocean

collective consciousness

I roll

Does it matter

that I now walk through walls

taught

does it matter

did not achieve it on my own

Did I pick the right song

or the wrong one

did it pick me?

It’s slow beyond the triggers of my mind

I think the pauses between the words

between the melody

may be having me travel where I wouldn’t otherwise

“Oh God if you’re round there won’t you hear me…”

Maybe not such a bad choice

maybe not

I pat the head

of the girl I was

I smile at her

the thirty animals that circled her bed at night

the bag beneath her bed

in case

in case

there was a fire

I circle and embrace her

is this the worst that comes out of this two minute song?

How do we find where we have begun?

Song #2: Couldn’t resist, may be short……………

How do you describe

a smile

that starts from within?

How do you describe hope

that stands

despite

the day?

How do you

How do you

How do you live the moment

when the past and the future

want to choke you?

How do you

How do you

How do you rise up

and glide

across the pond

iced

of the moment?

How do you stand

a child

across a frozen ink of glass

against the stark

forgotten trees

of a town

removed

a place within the town

even more forgotten

how do you carve yourself against the sky

to make yourself matter?

You glide

you breath

you put your arms out in front of you

whether you can

see

or not see

you put your fingers

your nerves

the warmth

of you against the sky and dare it

to

not

see you

****both background songs compliments of Sarah McLauchlan, her cd I bought playing in my home

Peace my brothers and sisters.

Try it.

Typing or drawing to music is freeing and brings us back to our origins.

May God bless you.

Every once in awhile, it’s fun to turn on the music and grab a pencil and draw as fast as you can before the song ends!

Drawing to music…………

Words.

Sometimes words must only be what we feel.

Not what is expected.

That’s not to mean we don’t have responsibility with our words.

Rather, it means we have responsibility with our words to ourselves, to not self-edit to the point of expectation.  I never have problem with editing to ensure that there is no intended harm, the harm that ensues though, unintended, is what I speak of….words which pour from us unheeded; yet, on second glance, could have a separate disparate impact on an unintended audience.

You see, I am a believer, a follower of the unedited.  I write, save to correct typos most of the time, but I write with my heart and or soul pouring onto the page.

There are times I do not.

I throw out an article, knowing how I feel about it, but not setting it forth, because for some inexplicable reason it is more important for me to see how you feel.

So welcome.

I treasure your thoughts.

I am laughing out loud. Or should I say, we here at Surface Earth are laughing out loud?

I’m trolling the internet and finding bash after bash on not just Britney Spears, (did they say she had “stipper” gear on? Please, don’t even get us started), but countless other performers.

Here is what we know:

1. Most people sing in the shower; and

2. Most people sing in the car; and

3. Most people sing most anywhere no one else will hear them.

So, the rest of us tone-deaf brats actually think we have a front row seat to critique? I guess so, according to this article from Chicago Tribune. (Hint, hint: 3rd article down, entitled: The Britney Spears disaster at MTV’s Video Music Awards)(Oh I’m sorry, would that be: The Britney Spears’ disaster….?).
I wish the author would upload a YouTube video of a song, then again, only if he/she winds up being the next Paul Potts.

Cheers for a better tomorrow.

And, oh, hey Britney? If they say you wore stripper gear, I hope they meant it in the best sense of women out there who know of no better choice of how to support families. What’s that saying about us as a society? Women strip to make money that they can’t otherwise earn using other parts of their brain? We reward and then slap them for it?

Oh please. It’s getting very old.

Let me reiterate an old post here:

“Prejudice of any kind implies that you are identified with the thinking mind. It means you don’t see the other human being anymore, but only our own concept of that human being. To reduce the aliveness of another human being to a concept is a form of violence.”

Stillness Speaks by Eckhart Tolle

Ok, I must ask, have we nothing better to do with ourselves than criticize Britney Spears?

I glossed over news articles the — news? —last few days but today’s headline stopped me in my tracks:

Britney was bad, yes. But ‘fat’?

Actually, it is some of the headlines quoted within the headline of the above CNN article that got me going.

You see, I watched the awards and what I saw was someone who maybe was a bit nervous, maybe not, but that was my impression of the young woman. The second thing that hit me was, wow, she had two kids, isn’t she in wonderful shape?

Is she that much of a threat to some part of society I am unaware of that even her body must take verbal abuse?

Maybe it’s just me, but the use of the word “fat”, the existence of the word, just seems plain ludicrous.  So does the constant criticism of the young woman most of us will never know.  Have to wonder, why is it that so many enjoy seeing others down, and if in fact not down, well then certainly throwing enough energy their way to hopefully land them there?

Sigh.

Imagine the suprise and delight: Paul Potts has his own entry in Wikipedia!

Enjoy!

Everything but the girl – I don’t want to talk about it
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UujO_YwaB_I]
All time favorite.

G’nite my friends.

Peace.

Everything But The Girl
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=orITYZwqO6Y]
Take Three: smiling, one of my favorites, but just another slice of the surface, mais non?

everything but the girl ‘single’
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fcd4VrAqHM0]
Take Two: Everything But The Girl

(dimensions)

Everything But The Girl-
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKNznc-hFyg]
Enjoy.

There are moments in life where you must believe, there is something that exists after this, this earthly existence.

Sometimes I can find it in the discrete moments…a voice..the voice of Paul Potts, how can that not be divinely inspired?

Perhaps it is the determination to be heard which is divinely inspired.

See Paul Potts courtesy of YouTube:

You Tube

The Opus – Douglas Vermeeren
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S68XlFnsOnY]
The next “Secret”?

Tonight, I read slowly, something that those who know me well, know happens too infrequently.

I read the voice of a young woman, and am struck by something she felt worthy to be placed among the pages. I have not referenced and cross-referenced, I simply put this here for a note of familiarity, The Girls of Riyadh, by Rajaa Alsanea, pp. 73-74):

Rid yourself of woe and tears

Instead of crying years and years

Oh You who’ve wept the traitor man

Weep on today, if you well can.

But watch that no one sees tears fall

For such will please the traitors all.

Plain White T’s – Hey There Delilah
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbJtYqBYCV8]
Wanted to post what the best line is, but the more you listen, again and again, there is no distinction to be made as to which line is best.

Updated:  December 15, 2007:  You Tube 

I was visiting the Namaste Blog today and came across a You Tube video. Ironic, as a few days ago someone told me about a man who came from nothing to wow some crowds and Simon Cowell. I flashed through 152 channels of news immediately and couldn’t find any reference, then life took over and I went about my routines. Then today, I stopped by the Namaste Interactive blog, and what did I find? The video of the man who wowed the audience.

Go over and visit Namaste’s blog, take a moment for yourself, and click on the You Tube Video, be prepared to be amazed.

One more argument in favor of God or another Divine Source existing. We have also attached a few more resources below on this phenomenal singer.

*photo at msnbc.com

Namaste Blog: “An unSUNG Hero” — “When Paul, a mobile phone salesman in Britain, stepped onto the stage no one expected the magic that was about to occur. Sometimes inspiration comes in the most unlikely moments.”

Boston.com -– “Sometimes even the most acid-tongued critics are left speechless. Paul Potts, 36, took to the stage of a British TV talent show as an unassuming mobile phone salesman from Wales, but after stunning judges with a virtuoso rendition of the aria “Nessun Dorma,” he left it a star.”

MSNBC.com has a good article and a few video feeds, part of the story below….

“U.K. talent champ: ‘Can’t believe it’ In a rags to riches story, Welsh phone salesman wins ‘Britain’s Got Talent’

“A cell phone salesman who sought refuge from bullies as a child by singing opera still cannot believe he was able to overcome his lack of confidence to win “Britain’s Got Talent,” the U.K’s version of “American Idol.”

I just can’t believe it. I’m waiting for someone to pinch me and say, ‘Get out of bed. You’ve got to work. You’re late again,’” Paul Potts, 36, said during an exclusive interview Thursday with TODAY host Meredith Vieira.

Potts still has to get out of bed to go to work, but now his work will be singing for the Queen and recording albums for Simon Cowell’s label. His remarkable rags to riches story may even be made into movie.”

-By John Springer, TODAYShow.com contributor

See our other entry with a link to YouTube

Thought for the day:

Some artists leave us no room to create in between their spaces, the spaces between the notes are so full.

We must just sit and listen and if God or the Universe graces us, we must put up our feet and listen, yes, listen and hear.

There are other artists that leave us room to fill in the spaces, words are never divorced. Do you know what that is, to tilt your head to hear the music of words before they hit the page, a waterfall flowing? How can words ever be separated?

To edit or not to edit?

Stream of consciousness writing is an integation of emotion and energy without ego……