cat / en
We never know when a smell has been saved in the end of your nose, as we never know when we have assimilated a concept. What it is clear is that with the passing of time we are able to classify and understand the periods of our lives. The decontextualization makes our senses awake, and in my case, the smell.
Every day I do the same journey: from home to Union Square, through the seasonal market that it’s only there every two days; I go upstairs to the office and prepare my breakfast: milk with cereal. I have never been a breakfast lover, but now it allows me to establish a routine and dedicate few minutes to the daily news.
Lauren, Australian architect that sits next to me, is very thin and happy. Opposite as me, she is preparing daily breakfast decent of dietetic magazine. Elegant, beautiful, full of different ingredients that I’m unable to distinguish. Sometimes fruit, some others yogurt with cereals, some other sandwiches… there is no food routine for her, and she is repeating it for every meal. For me, it’s interesting, due to my sensibility to for food.
Today she has not yet arrived and I have already been sitting for a while looking at the newspaper ara.cat. I heard her walking as if she would always be on a hurry to sit at the desk. The morning ritual starts.
I try not to look at her how she prepares it, but sometimes is impossible. I look my screen as if the news would interest me a lot, and all of a sudden I don’t remember anything else. It is the first time I have ever had this feeling in my life. As if I would be reading a book and I would disappear from the real world. A real disappearance.
I don’t remember how long it was, but I guess quite a lot because when I wake up, she didn’t have anything else in the bowl. It was hard to understand and associate all the variables. I breathe, smell, and then I understood it.
We never know when a smell has been saved in the end of your nose, as we never know when we have assimilated a concept. What it is clear is that with the passing of time we are able to classify and understand the periods of our lives. The decontextualization makes our senses awake, and in my case, the smell.
Every day I do the same journey: from home to Union Square, through the seasonal market that it’s only there every two days; I go upstairs to the office and prepare my breakfast: milk with cereal. I have never been a breakfast lover, but now it allows me to establish a routine and dedicate few minutes to the daily news.
Lauren, Australian architect that sits next to me, is very thin and happy. Opposite as me, she is preparing daily breakfast decent of dietetic magazine. Elegant, beautiful, full of different ingredients that I’m unable to distinguish. Sometimes fruit, some others yogurt with cereals, some other sandwiches… there is no food routine for her, and she is repeating it for every meal. For me, it’s interesting, due to my sensibility to for food.
Today she has not yet arrived and I have already been sitting for a while looking at the newspaper ara.cat. I heard her walking as if she would always be on a hurry to sit at the desk. The morning ritual starts.
I try not to look at her how she prepares it, but sometimes is impossible. I look my screen as if the news would interest me a lot, and all of a sudden I don’t remember anything else. It is the first time I have ever had this feeling in my life. As if I would be reading a book and I would disappear from the real world. A real disappearance.
I don’t remember how long it was, but I guess quite a lot because when I wake up, she didn’t have anything else in the bowl. It was hard to understand and associate all the variables. I breathe, smell, and then I understood it.
Calella, my grandmother’s kitchen. The best kitchen that I have ever seen. Big, full of natural light, with enough space to even do wheels. Windows and drawers everywhere, always full of ants going up and down, but that remind us that we are in contact with the nature: they don’t want anything from the kitchen, just want to cross it. Sincerely, the best house ever and the kitchen, the main room. We can feel the hunger of Rosa family.
In front of the sink, a horizontal pivotant window allows you to wash the dishes with air coming straight to your face: fresh air direct from a small interior
courtyard with only 3 walls.
Unfortunately the window is old and it has lost half of the pieces, included the one that allows the window to remain open. Nowadays, a big wooden spoon holds the window so that it stays always open. As far as I can remember, it’s the only one that never gets closed. To take advantage of the shelf that remains by the window, a mint plant is always there. Yes, mint, here it is. The MINT.
In order to understand which was the element that was making me travel, I had to reconstruct in few seconds the entire situation. It’s the same feeling as in a dream: a lot of emotions in few seconds. Every time I think about this ‘lost of consciousness ‘, I am amazed at the ability of the humanity to transport ourselves somewhere without any visual relation.
It was not the first time I had smelled mint, but the morning freshness, the silence and the made me realise the importance of this window, this house and this period in my life. And now it’s inconceivable to think about my childhood without this mint, fresh, humid and immortal.