Someone walks by outside the patio here and they’re wearing ‘Euphoria’. It takes me to another place. I’ve never written about smells before I don’t think. Never even bothered to try to capture an aroma or an odor or anything in between. As I write this I’ve now become hyper-aware of the olfactory stimuli around me. Car exhaust… vanilla tobacco… some kind of other floral note. But still I’m not describing, I’m only naming. Now I’m actively trying to smell, but I’m picking up nothing. Sometimes that’s the way it goes with the nose though. Smells catch you off guard– knock you off your feet. Transport you in toto. It’s a kind of journey that finds you, not the other way around. Sometimes when you thought there were no more journeys to be had.
DEERFIELD REVIEW: Up On the Rock
Electric guitar instrumentalists never have been at the forefront of the rock music scene. Although widely respected, musicians such as John Mclaughlin, Carlos Santana –
September 8, 1989
