Mary Edwards on Bachelard's Panty Drawer

Last week on Freeform Portland Radio, I had the decadent pleasure of interviewing one of my favorite human mammals, Ms. Mary Edwards, about her newest piece, "Everywhere We Are is the Farthest Place." The soundscape composition features field recordings of glaciers and oceanographic data taken above the 78th parallel in Svalbard. We also played sounds by some of her biggest muses including Susumo Yokota, Tim Hecker, Biosphere, Cortex, and more.

From Everywhere We Are is the Farthest Place, performed live at Epsilon Spires, Brattleboro VT, July 2024. Photo: Perri Lynch Howard

Twelve Years Ago

I worked for him. I wore pigtails and leather coats. I wasn't thin enough, tall enough, in the know. I shook the right hands of famous friends and in this shaking embraced cleaning ladies I'd met in Bogota who slept in cots next to their employer's kitchen after cooking all day. I fetched lotion. I booked plane tickets. I called cars. Sashimi. Burgers without buns. Gold-capped lip balm. Flowers for friends. I wasn't allowed to say I didn't know. If I didn't know I had to say I didn't know. Always say yes. Always say no. Didn't they know who he was. Yes. Yes. Yes. No. No. No. No. No! He said this is how I will always remember you as I bent over to tie my shoes. He said I was beautiful, but my eyes, so dead! What was I doing? No, that was all wrong. I thought you were smart. Did I know who he was? I hid in bathrooms to laugh-cry. There were meetings over skim lattes, his tiny growling canine at our feet. My palms drenched tablecloths, spilled coffee cups. I couldn't find enough spit to swallow. I turned red, blacked out. He said he was so sorry, it was his fault, he was so sorry, it was his fault. I said no, no, no. It's my own.