The Memory Sense

The most pleasurable task of creating our first candle "story" for Waxing Poetic has recently begun, and our offices are awash with all sorts of intoxicating infusions.  Memories of "time and place" smells are surfacing, and we're approaching this project much the same way we do when we make jewelry...What memory will it hold?  What does it conjure?The "Smell" chapter of Diane Ackerman's book, A Natural History of Senses (first read to me in part by Brianna Colburn, one of the contributors to this project) is a most amazing experience.  Did you know that violets contain something which short-circuits our sense of smell? And that it is almost impossible to describe a scent or smell without referring to another smell?  Totally intriguing.

And what of our nature to describe love and experiences with smells?

Almost by accident, I recently opened the most scent-soaked story of human love, the Song of Songs (and versions can always be found with lovely illuminated pages).  After revisiting this, I have been experiencing our own Los Olivos vineyards with an entirely new scent-memory {love}.

How will the candles evolve over time, and be loved?We had the good fortune of opening a 1966 bottle of Chateau Latour the other night, smelling and sipping "The Old Man" with good friends.  If I could recreate the aroma and the LOVE... Leather and graphite and dark, dark currant, concealed and revealed by wonderful age. The group huddled around this still-solid bottle as it revealed its fine bones, enjoying its heirloom light.  This bottle became the campfire of the evening, and the profound scent (and collective admiration) is still with me.