A thing called “the edge” entered our lexicon long ago. “Living on the edge,” we might hear someone say, or perhaps a thing described as “edgy” or “over the edge.” We sense that the edge describes a sort of desperate frontier between something and something else, but our curiosity about this thing, this edge, curiously stops there. It is because there is something powerful and unspeakable about the edge, something our minds reflexively protect us from. The edge is a state, a condition we can live in – a plasma form of the mind, like fire. The edge questions. It doubts. It needs to know why, and it will. It is restless and tireless. The edge is the constant search for the real. Water on […]