You and your writing always cause me to time travel — and distance-travel, too. Reading this, i was three times transported… thank you. The painting you chose is absolutely breathtaking… who is the artist?
Aww I am so happy to hear you were transported! Thank you for reading my weird rambles about time and scent, haha! It means a lot.
Great question about the artist. I actually meant to include a disclaimer in the photo caption, but forget - sadly, I can't find the artist. I saw the image on one of those art sites and saved it to my computer for my screen background, but I've done a reverse image search & I can't find the artist at all. I'm going to try to hunt it down again, and then add this disclaimer to the photo. When I find it, I will let you know immediately! 🤍
The smell of crushed mint sends me back to the summers I mowed my grandmother’s lawn, where mint had hopped the garden bed and was growing out among the grass. After I was done mowing, the whole yard smelled of mint.
Beautiful, evocative post. You write as if language were your servant. Unfortunately I have far too many favourite scents to mention. I've written about these in my occasional scent reviews (Acqua Di Gio Absolu is one of these). I also love Bois D'Encens from the house of Armani's Privé collection, the original CK Eternity, Papyrus Oud by Parle Moi and the list goes on. If you're into gourmands, think you would enjoy Montale's Intense Café or their Honey Aoud.
I love the nostalgia in your work. Sometimes I feel like nostalgia takes up my entire brain. One summer when I was nine, my family went to Disney World and my mother was wearing this perfume at the time called Amarige. It’s not common anymore, but when I do occasionally smell it, it takes me right back to that trip when things were magical (I was 9) and my family was whole.
Aww, thank you for reading. We really are just, as humans, living containers for memory being forced to also always exist in the present, and it's tender and it's often so sad and it's also so beautiful. Your memory gives me chills. I can almost feel it, too. It's like the scent is a wormhole or a break in time: "when things were magical (I was 9) and my family was whole."
You and your writing always cause me to time travel — and distance-travel, too. Reading this, i was three times transported… thank you. The painting you chose is absolutely breathtaking… who is the artist?
And Kathy, if you have any scent memories tou’d like to share, I would love to hear them.
Aww I am so happy to hear you were transported! Thank you for reading my weird rambles about time and scent, haha! It means a lot.
Great question about the artist. I actually meant to include a disclaimer in the photo caption, but forget - sadly, I can't find the artist. I saw the image on one of those art sites and saved it to my computer for my screen background, but I've done a reverse image search & I can't find the artist at all. I'm going to try to hunt it down again, and then add this disclaimer to the photo. When I find it, I will let you know immediately! 🤍
This is gorgeous. So many senses are brought to life in this piece, through your poetic prose. Loved it! ❤️
Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate it. Do you have any sense that bring you back to a time or place?
Haunting and beautiful.
Natalie, thank you so much! Do you have any scents that transport you?
The smell of crushed mint sends me back to the summers I mowed my grandmother’s lawn, where mint had hopped the garden bed and was growing out among the grass. After I was done mowing, the whole yard smelled of mint.
Beautiful, evocative post. You write as if language were your servant. Unfortunately I have far too many favourite scents to mention. I've written about these in my occasional scent reviews (Acqua Di Gio Absolu is one of these). I also love Bois D'Encens from the house of Armani's Privé collection, the original CK Eternity, Papyrus Oud by Parle Moi and the list goes on. If you're into gourmands, think you would enjoy Montale's Intense Café or their Honey Aoud.
I love the nostalgia in your work. Sometimes I feel like nostalgia takes up my entire brain. One summer when I was nine, my family went to Disney World and my mother was wearing this perfume at the time called Amarige. It’s not common anymore, but when I do occasionally smell it, it takes me right back to that trip when things were magical (I was 9) and my family was whole.
Aww, thank you for reading. We really are just, as humans, living containers for memory being forced to also always exist in the present, and it's tender and it's often so sad and it's also so beautiful. Your memory gives me chills. I can almost feel it, too. It's like the scent is a wormhole or a break in time: "when things were magical (I was 9) and my family was whole."