That Scent, Ohh That Scent
One of the most romantic things ever said to me was, “You smell like Christmas, the one I always wanted and never had.” I discovered that meant cinnamon sticks, overflowing cups of vanilla eggnog ice cream, tiny spiced apples and fresh snow. Years later I find myself tinkering in the Studio trying to concoct that scent, an aroma I might call, The Christmas Wish.
To say that scents can evoke deep memories is an understatement. They can engrave an impression as deeply as any action.
A day in my Studio usually begins by 6:30 a.m., and whether I plan it or not, the scents of the day make their way onto my mental list. Then, when I least expect it, an urge to merge them, isolate them, play with them, tinker for weeks --unfolds. Over the course of today, these scents visited me:
~ Black Colombian coffee, fresh cream, raisin cinnamon toast while breakfasting
~ Wood pine chips and pink roses in the garden
~ An overripe but invitingly syrupy cantaloupe
~ Tobacco smoke, puffy Indian bread, pineapples, and
~ The threat of rain unrealized.