I remember a thread talking about partners/spouses, or family putting up with perfume habits of folks here, whether trying too many, sampling all the time or a new perfume ever so often… or say, in cases like mine, a full-on obsession but not with wearing scents, which as is challenging to get one’s head around.
Considering we all belong to that specific ‘lot’ of people, who pay attention to scents and odours, perhaps far more than an average individual—I’m sure it must have crossed one’s mind—the capacity of scent/smells to profoundly affect our psyche, emotions & behaviour when associated with someone you’re falling in love with. Or have already fallen for, have loved a while or had known in the past as unrequited love? Whether it was romantic, or platonic love, and maybe even that fierce passion which transcends it all and has no name.
The scent of skin without any perfume (simple soap), the smell of sweat after exercise, the smell of their clothes—just their incomparable smell—for Goodness’s sake. I know well the studies about having a preference for the scent of individuals whose genetics is different from us or being affected by the smell of a woman depending on where she is in her cycle, or a man’s sweat odour, etc.
But knowing the science doesn’t help with the reality… now, does it?
As ascetic as I am in real-life, as private as you can imagine.… I’m all too human. And to come to grips with such a realization that scents co-mingled with the object of one's desire can and do play havoc with one’s composure is not easy.
It’s quite a tale, and I don’t even know where to begin.
Or should I even discuss it here? But then—isn’t anonymity, the great equalizer?
I can assure you if you were to meet me in real life, you won’t believe anything written here—regardless of the fact—‘tis all true.
So, what do I say….
That the smell of narcissus-flowers is chaotic to my emotions (we both share a love of it) and the scent of Jicky is like a call to arms (hah, more like call-to-enamoured lust). Just a whiff and restlessness, itching to get out of one’s skin, hmm—not fun. But what’s most closely tethered to my beloved is the scent of a library (books) wherewith one glance, time stood still (… perhaps, always will) and the drunken heady scent of star-jasmine flowers, whose shrubs line the path which leads to that library.
The sheer hell of it is that I never thought that the smells, scents in this context would affect me so intensely.
I guess, as long as there is life, there are surprises.
As I write this, there's a refrain oft repeated in my mind, EE Cummings' poem in Bjork's voice...
I will wade out
till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
Alive
with closed eyes
Considering we all belong to that specific ‘lot’ of people, who pay attention to scents and odours, perhaps far more than an average individual—I’m sure it must have crossed one’s mind—the capacity of scent/smells to profoundly affect our psyche, emotions & behaviour when associated with someone you’re falling in love with. Or have already fallen for, have loved a while or had known in the past as unrequited love? Whether it was romantic, or platonic love, and maybe even that fierce passion which transcends it all and has no name.
The scent of skin without any perfume (simple soap), the smell of sweat after exercise, the smell of their clothes—just their incomparable smell—for Goodness’s sake. I know well the studies about having a preference for the scent of individuals whose genetics is different from us or being affected by the smell of a woman depending on where she is in her cycle, or a man’s sweat odour, etc.
But knowing the science doesn’t help with the reality… now, does it?
As ascetic as I am in real-life, as private as you can imagine.… I’m all too human. And to come to grips with such a realization that scents co-mingled with the object of one's desire can and do play havoc with one’s composure is not easy.
It’s quite a tale, and I don’t even know where to begin.
Or should I even discuss it here? But then—isn’t anonymity, the great equalizer?
I can assure you if you were to meet me in real life, you won’t believe anything written here—regardless of the fact—‘tis all true.
So, what do I say….
That the smell of narcissus-flowers is chaotic to my emotions (we both share a love of it) and the scent of Jicky is like a call to arms (hah, more like call-to-enamoured lust). Just a whiff and restlessness, itching to get out of one’s skin, hmm—not fun. But what’s most closely tethered to my beloved is the scent of a library (books) wherewith one glance, time stood still (… perhaps, always will) and the drunken heady scent of star-jasmine flowers, whose shrubs line the path which leads to that library.
The sheer hell of it is that I never thought that the smells, scents in this context would affect me so intensely.
I guess, as long as there is life, there are surprises.
As I write this, there's a refrain oft repeated in my mind, EE Cummings' poem in Bjork's voice...
I will wade out
till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
Alive
with closed eyes
