*Our Sensory Preception*

Anyone that reads my blog should know by now my all-consuming love of fragrance. Of all of our senses, the ability to smell is one that I think most people take for granted. They worry about their eyesight, their hearing, their sense of touch, but not so much about the olfactory sense.

Fragrance lovers, I think, have a more advanced perception of not only perfumes, but also a more acute sense or awareness of everyday smells around them. As musicians can hear notes or music much better than I, I am sure they consider their ability to do so the same as a fragrance lover would. I belong to several message boards where we post about fragrance and our love for it daily. Recently, our board founder, Jeffrey, asked us to start posting essays of anything we thought important about our love of fragrance. It could be a short story, an essay, an experience with scent, or whatever we chose. Some of our members began posting their own poetry about fragrance. To a perfume lover, or a perfumista (mega-fragrance lover) this has became a wonderful thing to read. My friend Karin recently posted this on the essay board and I wanted to share it with my faithful blog readers:

"The pleasure of sensing intertwined.

colors everywhere, blessed sight
rainbows - the double rainbow that encompassed our car
clouds, whether heavy and lowering or wisps of light
I smell colors in context, but not as colors.

the smell of fresh rain or dew laying on grass
clover in spring.... and dandelions, tulips, iris, daffodils
roses, cloyingly sweet, but not to be worn by me
I cannot separate the scents from their beauty.

chocolate
or a good steak
or chicken on the grill -
sweeter to the taste or to the nose, who can separate.

a baby's skin.....a mother's hand....a lover's presence
fresh sheets
new shoes
Each has a scent to go with touch and sight.

a loved one's voice
or music-
we call it colorful-can you taste the chords?
I smell the places that contain the memories.

one sense not enough to define life which is not confined.

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My friend Susan also posted the following:

"When you told me you loved me and that my perfume
drove you crazy, I laughed and showed no emotion,
but secretly thrilled to my new found power of Girlwoman.
My sixteen year old self, private places and covert looks,
mirrored tray covered with Tussy and Love's Fresh Lemon,
Mary Quant lip gloss, my father's gift of Blue Grass soaps,
a stolen cache of Shalimar and perfume nips, half-used.
Wrapping a topsheet around my upper body, twisting
the white wilted cotton into a drape of an evening gown.
I look in the mirror and see Cleopatra advancing on Antony,
her perfumed sails scented with spice, musk and rose.
Baths of milk, skin rubbed with henna and almond,
kohl darkened eyes, blue iris and the Snake smiling in his basket.
How could I have known the your glances and your words
and your locker kisses, your tongue in my mouth,
our frantic fumblings in the back of a borrowed Mustang
were the start of a long voyage on a barge opulent and
extravagant,smelling of old leather, cigarette smoke and Shalimar
and the snake, patient and smiling, waiting in his basket.

Thirty years later, high school reunion, feeling sleek and smug
I walk among matronly women and men sporting gold Rolexes,
second wives carrying gold minaudieres and smelling of Cristalle.
I hear you before I see you, then I turn and feign surprise,
oh my, look who's here, it's Antony, you look wonderful
is this your wife, a son at Harvard, how marvelous.
Light kisses, a quick hug, empty promises to keep in touch.
The satisfaction of seeing a hunger in your eyes, a slight stirring
and a wife's discomfort. Old leather, sweat and Shalimar,
Sweet and lethal potion, does it fill your head when I turn and go?
Riding home alone in a rented limousine, I lean back against
the cool night cushions and thrill to the scent of fragrant blood."

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And last, but not least, from my dear friend Mary who has the soul of an Angel:

I want a perfume........
like V E N U S
rising from the seafoam,
salty, fresh and effervescent.
Something that makes me think
of her hair in the wind.

I want a perfume
like the tumbled ochre stone
of some old Welsh castle,
Mellow'd amber.....
and green, green grass.

Is there a perfume
that smells like my
mother's handbag?
Leather and Doublemint gum,
Revlon lipstick and,
Emeraude, Mama?

I want a perfume
like a Medieval walled garden
Roses climbing the brick,
A maze of lavender and rosemary,
Marjoram and hyssop.

I want a perfume
that smells like the planets
and the stars whirling and twirling
in a dark winter sky.
But...........No
I think that's asking too much.

* I have come to the conclusion that my perfumista friends are not only gifted with their olfactory ability, they are also in tune with the essence of life. I read their words and I can visualize, feel and smell them! That is a gift that is rare and I am thankful that they are my peers.