i may have mentioned it before... but, the first time i heard edge read a post, i knew that i would never be the same. it was one of those moment in time type things where your life stands still for you long enough to comprehend that something dramatic just happened.
edge is an amazing writer and his home is at http://windingcrookedtrails.blogspot.com. the title "winding, crooked trails" fits this man like no other blog title i've seen yet. i've never told him, but i view our relationship much like a master and an apprentice. when i read his work, i normally get lumps in my throat, or fight back tears, or beam with radiant happiness because someone else thinks and writes the way i do.
our similarities extend to the way we manage our blogs. a mix of personal history, glorified fantasy, outright fiction, and an overwhelming love for the women in our lives, both offline and on.
i wanted to know more about this man that i honor as a mentor, and this interview is part of that exploration. i hope one day i have the chance to meet edge, and share a beer, and learn all those things without having to hide behind an "interview"... it will just be conversation.
tell me about your name? how did you become edge?
well, it came about fairly recently, about four years
ago on a hiking trip with some newfound friends who
were members of an environmental organization I
joined. I have a fear of heights which is inhibiting
in the West if you are to enjoy and experience all the
drama of the landscape. So I would slowly approach,
literally inching my way out to the ledges and edges.
I was talking about it with Neena recently, who also
has a fear of heights, and if you do, you know it's as
physical as it is emotional. You feel it in the pit
of your stomach and if you aren't careful it can
quickly spiral into vertigo. Or it can make you
freeze up. I was with a woman in New Mexico year
before last and we were using Moqui steps, little
indents in the canyon wall, hundreds of years old, and
she froze half way up. Wouldn't go up, wouldn't come
down. It took several minutes to talk her down.
So, you notice I never use ten words when a hundred
will do? Back to how I got the name. A Hopi Indian
girl, one of the most serene human beings I have ever
met, watched me one particular day on a long hike in
Bryce Canyon which has some really odd cliffsides and
ledges, watched me get all proud of myself for having
my toes right there at the abyss and pointed and said
"edge". It stuck among this group. Some people back
home have picked up on it. It's funny. I don't think
of it as a nickname. To me it's an actual name and I
would more than gladly adopt it as my real name. I
honestly think it has helped me partially conquer my
fear too.
actually, i can probably relate more than you think. anything above
sea level royally fucks with my head. you mentioned a Hopi indian
girl. i've often thought that native americans are much more advanced
in their spirituality... that, maybe, they have figured out something
that the rest of us seem to ignore or not recognize.
in your writing, you have a sense of spirit. sometimes, it's almost
tangible. how would you describe your spirituality?
This will probably be another wordy one so if you need
a break or to go to the bathroom or something now
might be a good time.
My father was Catholic, my mother Protestant, so I
think to keep peace and not make a controversial
decision as to which direction my brother and I would
go we essentially did nothing toward formalizing
religion. I was baptized Catholic but we did not
attend church while I was growing up. While allowing
me to sleep in on all those sunday mornings I grew up
with the awareness that others were involved in
something that I knew very little about. My parents
were over protective and somewhat strict, and being
believers, I was raised with the same value system as
most everyone else in middle America and was in fact a
good boy. I know, hard for me to believe too. I've
raised my children in a similar vein and they seem to
have turned out fine. My son is the only one of the
three to have chosen to formalize his beliefs and I'm
not quite sure what motivated him. He was pushed to
some degree in that direction and he will make his own
choices. He is a good boy with sound values so the
rest matters little to me.
I have always felt a spiritual draw to the natural
world, the outdoors, the seaside, deep woods and
rivers and wild places. Two events in my life
solidified my spiritual side. One, a near death
experience. I won't bore you with details, I've spoke
of it here before, but suffice it to say that it was a
very calm experience for me, almost serene, feeling
life escape me and being aware that the indicators
were falling toward zero. The expressions of those
above me, the calling out of falling numbers. I felt
no pain of any kind and swear I never lost
consciousness. I saw no white light, my life did not
flash in front of me, I didn't hover in the corner of
the room watching. I was accepting death, calmly and
quietly. I heard the beeps turn into a continuous
sound. For just a few seconds. Then by the wonders
of modern medicine and a jolting shock I got it back.
I'm the same person now but many things have changed.
My attitude, my temperment, my emotions, my ability to
love and appreciate and my acceptance of the life at
which I've been given a second chance.
That, coupled with my discovery of my spiritual
center, the American Southwest, in particular, the
Colorado Plateau, has planted me where I am
spiritually today. I have several posts expressing
how important this discovery is in my life so I won't
go into it here. But for me, have witnessed, studied,
and been awed by the natural world, I have no problem
admitting the natural order of things, which is
amazing beyond comprehension, is so complex, so
incredibly intricate, nearly impossible to grasp in
it's infinite wonder, that I don't need more. How and
why should I be able to understand in my shallow human
realm of experience what, why, and how? I accept that
it is beyond me and I accept that this is my life and
when it is over, it will be over and I will be
returned to the order and have no need to serve any
purpose other than feeding that which has given me
life. No boxes or interrment for me. Just sprinkle me
a few places I love.
one of the things that pulled me into your writing, is your keen sense
of sexuality, and i say sexuality loosely. to me, your writing
describes perfectly the melding of two beings... in your world, even
dirty sex is beautiful.
what intrigues me though is your ability to put it in written form.
when did you become aware that your writing was, how do i say it...
exceptionally different?
responses too long?
I never considered myself having a style until I
started blogging. And everyone does here, have their
own style. I love that about blogging. I've told
people who have paid me compliments about something
I've written that I have a poor sense of mechanics and
grammar, and obviously punctuation. The comma is my
best friend. Whether I'm writing about sex or any
other subject I'm basically capturing a train of
thought in words as best I can. I usually write
everything in one sitting, one blast of consciousness.
I'll read it over and change some words but rarely
add or delete sentences. There are wonderful writers,
Rachel and Jen come to mind, who obviously have a
mastery of mechanical skill coupled with their ability
to capture their thoughts in words. I won't ever be
like that. No one writes like Charkey. If she ever
wrote a full paragraph I would suspect forgery. Brian
is also exceptionally strong at the mechanics of
writing as well as evoking feelings in others by how
much he gives of himself. I'd be surprised if he
doesn't get emailed marriage proposals from his
following. Any proposals you and I would get would
probably be less decent. Brian bravely steps out
there. So do Laine, SS, Mystic and Fly, giving of
themselves. If you haven't read Maddy, check her out.
Riveting and unique. C is spare with her words but
it's effective because she is obviosly skilled at
communication. Whitey is....well....Whitey, Toxic
Angel is Toxic and provocative and Magz is Magz.
Rori also gets a lot out of few words and zings like
no one else. I've left people out but by no means is
that intended as a slight.
I think you and I are more conscious of entertainment
value. Plus that borderline obsession with seeking
approval that we share. I know that is writing for
others and it's arguable what a blog is supposed to be
but, like you, I love reaching out to people. I've
said it before, I think like you write but I can't
write like you do but I do believe I write like you
think. People will either nod or shake their heads at
that but you and I understand it. I think my best
tool as a writer is a keen sense of observation. I
pay very close attention to everyone and everything.
Voyeurism as a tool of the trade. I knew it would
come in handy for something.
no... the responses are perfect. honestly, i'm blown away... it's like
finally talking to someone after years of correspondence. not that
we're talking... not that we've had years. but, blogging tends to cut
through all the bullshit and it gets right to the point... our
feelings. i once took an aptitude test, and it said that i was a
"feeler" and that everything in my life revolved around "feelings".
certain things touch me at the core... a mother's smile, a father's
tears, a child's trust.
what is it that "touches" you? that turns your emotions?
I'm touched by more things now than at any other point
in my life. I've experienced the emergence of life
five times now, three children and two grand children
and nothing else has touched me like that. My
youngest grand daughter is just over two months old
and having her laying on my chest is as touching as it
gets. It brings back the times the other four did the
same thing. There is nothing in the world like an
infant on your chest. There are other like feelings to
follow throughout childhood but I spend hours like
this. I usually don't even have to hold her, I just
angle back and let her burrow in and fall asleep. I
don't care who else is there or who else might be
holding her when I see her, I just take her. People
seem to get it. I don't cradle her, it's always on my
chest or over my shoulder. All these kids have and do
touch me this way.
And of course the wonders of the world and all the
wild places and wild things, rivers and mountains and
canyons and old growth forests and the sea, all that.
I've always paid attention to the wild but not like
now. I tend to be obsessive and the wilderness has
certainly become an obsession. Lately I've been
experiencing it on my own almost as much as with
others but I think I'm ready for a foray with someone
who wants it as much as I do. There is a 22 day trip
down the Colorado next April, through the Grand
Canyon, 250 miles, that I'm having some difficulty
talking myself out of and not really trying very hard.
Next year or the year after it's something I have to
do.
I love women and they touch me in many, many ways.
I've not always touched them back the right way but
I've worked hard to fix that. I see them more now,
see deeper. I finally learned how to listen and not
just hear. I know women as much from my failures as
my successes. I know what breaks them and I know how
little it takes to make a good woman happy. Much less
than a man I think. Needless to say I am attracted to
a woman head to toe and inside and out, things I used
to ignore or take for granted, the turn of her ankle,
nape of her neck, all her expressions, the smell and
taste of her. I've learned to love a woman's
imperfections. She expects you to love her strengths,
she's yours if you love what she considers her
weaknesses. It's not hard, she's never as imperfect
as she thinks she is. Even here, and it's ironic that
I am right now closer to women here than in my day to
day life. These women girls touch me and if I help
give them a sense of self worth, of appreciation, a
boost to confidence, even a laugh, and it's shameless
what I'll do to get a laugh, or by how much I enjoy
them then I have maybe taken a step toward making up
for some past transgressions even though I can't right
old wrongs.
I just wish I would have gotten it sooner.
one more question, then i'll leave you alone... for now...
lets say you and i finally share that road trip. it's 2am and the road
is spread out like butter... what's on the radio?
I love 2am, especially on the road, it's still today
and tomorrow is full of promise. It would have to be
a blues station mixing up Chicago and Texas blues,
back and forth, Carey Bell and Clarance Gatemouth
Brown, Charlie Musselwhite and Little Charlie and the
Nightcats. Windows down, smokey blues like it's
smokey where Koko Taylor wails and Katie Webster, oh
and Son Seals, and Delbert McClinton. And damn, James
Cotton, crooning and howling, us and them. Yeah,
would have to be the blues. I like hanging out the
window too. We could change stations at 5, sun coming
up and all. Or just shut off the radio and talk about
all these girls.
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Edge writes daily Monday through Friday at Winding, Crooked Trails which can be found at http://windingcrookedtrails.blogspot.com . If you haven't read him, get your ass over there now... go on... hurry up, time's a wastin'...
