I planted night-blooming jasmine on my balcony yesterday afternoon. The scent is intoxicating to me and reminds me of childhood. When I was a child my father planted many vines of night-blooming jasmine outside my bedroom window and when I slept with the window open I fell asleep to the thick, sweet scent.
I read a great book last year called The Scent of Desire by Rachel Herz. Pretty damn brilliant reading for a nerd like me. All about emotion and memory and how they are affected by scent. The other day on my bike ride I could smell the marsh from San Diego Bay and started recalling memories of my childhood I had filed away in a forgotten place.
Working on memoir I am trying to recall other scents that will trigger things for me. Freshly vacuumed industrial carpet, cleaning products, the elementary school scents of paste and the pinky metallic taste of the fluoride in the drinking water. I love my mind and the intricacies it is capable of. I love going places within myself. If I didn't love it so much I would probably be a crazy person.