evolv climbing

Curiosity is a torn leaf

One of my favorite memories as a child growing up in Ohio was how often I used to climb trees. I remember there was this one tree specifically that was on the side of my house. It had a cut off branch near the bottom. I always imagined what it would be like to be taller than it. I remember the leaves were strong and green and I used to tear them off and rip them into little pieces. I regret it, but I used to take off little pieces of bark because it was so smooth, but I know it was ok. I used to imagine that it was some form of evolved skin. I would climb up into the tree at the height of my bedroom window on the second floor. I remember looking into my window when I was in that tree, seeing into my room, looking at my bed and never seeing myself there.

Some days and some nights I would be laying in my bed, looking out that same window, at the same branches that I used to climb. I could see myself sitting in the tree alone. Looking back at myself. Curious eyes, and maybe a smile. It was moments like that, in which I told myself that it was okay to be my only best friend. Things didn’t feel so lonely like that. I didn’t realize I was lonely, I just thought that’s how it was. I didn’t cry because I was thankful to have myself. I wonder if because of that tree, I somehow managed to identify with myself better as a child than I can now. Maybe that thought makes me cry sometimes.

One year ago, I went back to Ohio for christmas. We haven’t lived in that house since 2005. The tree has since been cut down by the current owners. Ten years of distance between me and my childhood, and I was finally taller than that tree.

But I know it is ok.

Curiosity is a torn leaf.

vimeo

Evolv athlete Dai Koyomada puts “Story of Two Worlds” down for the god damn count. The cinematography, the absence of an annoying soundtrack, the story (if you’ve read up on it. Do your homework, I don don’t have time to explain).

Climbing always interested me because it is a great way to express yourself using your body, sometimes aggressive like a brutal fight and some times slow and seductive like a ritualistic dance. In that way I see climbing as good artistic outlet. I think my evolvement in the climbing world reflects theses ideas and I try to project this to whoever is willing to listen.
—  Jason Kehl