tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45861540964562397762024-03-18T05:48:08.864-04:00nosy girlnosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.comBlogger221125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-51131255894876669682016-05-20T10:31:00.000-04:002016-07-25T21:41:25.483-04:00my new stink<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">I had a baby in January! She changed
the way I smell in more ways than one, even before she arrived. I had that
super-smell power in pregnancy; along with my already keen schnoz and some
nasty nauseau this made me weak in the knees in the worst way. The streets of
Cambridge have known my vomit. Certain late-summer evening-time plant smells
that have always felt a bit scandalous became wretched with their desperate
ooze. I remember telling people that I could smell poop through a wall, with
the door closed. (I was fun to be around, and I got some of that renowned
new-parent poop-talk practice in early.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then I gave birth and my sweat
changed, during labor and after. It became potent in a way that I associate
with too-close quarters and equatorial sun. Stink is one of the ways a baby
knows her mother, so perhaps the strength of my stench had a use, but it was
strange to be so potent during such a hazy, dreamlike time, as though someone
else had snuck into my clothes, my skin, in the night. The strongest of it
seems to have faded into what I now consider a 'chicken stock stink,' a kind of
brothy underarm smell that I'm not wild about but that doesn't bowl me over.
(If I return to this blog in earnest, you can trust it is likely to only get
grosser!) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XKfz53v5Ts8/V445mQ6FnKI/AAAAAAAABis/s739mTGBjKc7YKORjgRB6Ra0_360rSypQCLcB/s1600/babyzofresh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XKfz53v5Ts8/V445mQ6FnKI/AAAAAAAABis/s739mTGBjKc7YKORjgRB6Ra0_360rSypQCLcB/s320/babyzofresh.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Baby Zo in February, freshly bathed, regards her mother, a bit of a stinkpot </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It
is too hard to talk about a new baby's smell, but I will say it is beautiful
and strange in ways I did not expect. There is something about her clean milky
brand-new puppy breaths that feels too tender to say much about. At one point,
she smelled to me like a (gently spiced) graham cracker--the way my own dried
drool used to smell on the pillow some mornings, one of the best smells I've
ever made now emanating from a new person I helped to make. She smells like a
sun-warmed kitten and the cleanest creek, so soft and sparkling and elemental.
Mineral and tang. Yogurt pop and cheese puff. Now she is four months old and it
is spring. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She
goes out walking in the evenings with her father and comes inside with that
clean spring smell lifting off her, and it’s enough to knock me to my knees again,
the radiance of it, but also a kind of grief that the world can touch her now,
and she has to carry it, beautiful and blooming, on her skin.</span></div>
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nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com55tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-80854886486729775892015-02-26T13:43:00.000-05:002015-02-26T13:50:10.559-05:00Nosy Interview: Chris Miota <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KXazOLBBVS4/VO9ncFSvcLI/AAAAAAAABfg/2eW2Vr4Ckws/s1600/auntchriscoronaaustralis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KXazOLBBVS4/VO9ncFSvcLI/AAAAAAAABfg/2eW2Vr4Ckws/s1600/auntchriscoronaaustralis.jpg" height="640" width="499" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444;">Chris sings in Stars and Dust in Corona Australis, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 16.7999992370605px;"><a href="http://chart32.de/index.php/group" target="_blank">©CHART32</a> </span><span style="color: #444444;">Team, Processing--<a href="http://panther-observatory.com/" target="_blank">Johannes Schedler</a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #351c75;">I've known Aunt Chris since I was a kid, and though she's not my aunt by blood, she is part of the best-represented family on Nosy Girl (her daughter <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/10/nosy-interview-katie-miota-stolzman.html" target="_blank">Katie</a>, son <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/01/nosy-interiew-joe-miota.html" target="_blank">Joe</a>, and niece <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/09/nosy-interview-jenny-di-meo.html" target="_blank">Jenny</a> have all been featured here), and one of my favorite families on earth. If you can't make it to outer space to hear Chris beautifully belt it out with Freddy and the Blifftones, you can <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Freddy-and-the-Blifftones/157267777661784?sk=timeline" target="_blank">follow the band here</a> and hopefully catch them soon in Milwaukee. </span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;">What do you smell like? </span></b><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I smell like t</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">een spirit.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I recently joined a fantastic band, Freddy and the Blifftones, as a
“chick singer,” as Freddy likes to call it.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Total serendipity; long story; dream come true.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;">When I was a teenager, Freddy and the
Freeloaders used to play at our high school dances—and now through a series of
unexpected confluences, I am in the latest incarnation of the band.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">Imagine the smell of that—pure oxygen all
mixed up with rhythm and blues, reggae, rock ‘n’ roll, show tunes, folk music,
gospel and weekly practices in Pete the drummer’s basement with some of the
best people I know.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">When I come home
from band practice, I smell happy and endorphinized, and it takes several
episodes of DVR’d</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Real Housewives</i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"> to un-jazz the musical high.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">When I come home from a gig, I smell like
spilled beer and laughter and sweaty hugs. </span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">I sometimes </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">smell festive, as when I spring for a real eau
de something, usually figgy with an undertone of something else green, like tea
or cucumber or peony—my favorite flower.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">Our old house had a real Victorian garden, with</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">peony bushes, and our rooms were filled with
that lushness for weeks in late spring.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">Now we live in a small condo overlooking beauteous Lake Michigan, with
its metro/lakefront smells.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">I guess I
smell urban-y, from walking through the neighborhood of restaurants and
bookstores and coffee shops and rich people and skateboarders and people from
St. John’s with their garland-festooned walkers and homeless people pushing
carts of cans who never fail to wish a good morning and a God-bless. </span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><b>What do you like to smell? </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">Attics. Basements. Old dimestores.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all make me have to pee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a good, excited way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Babies’ feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The necks of my kids, when they were little, after a day of being
outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Snow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That wisp of smoke from a
blown-out kitchen match.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My beloved
grandma’s empty real bottle of real Chanel Number 5—because it smells like her,
not like the perfume, to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">Our little
cottage up north, because it always smells the same when we open it up in
April—indescribably ready, steady, and fraught with the unknowability of the
season to come—and the occasional dead mouse.</span><br />
<br />nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-79362483560192395072015-01-14T13:03:00.000-05:002015-01-15T23:52:57.383-05:00Nosy Interview: Rebecca Scherm <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1SaIODLqVTE/VHN2MKgct7I/AAAAAAAABe4/GFFtMMNknKk/s1600/rebeccaschermsolarflarefromsharpersun.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1SaIODLqVTE/VHN2MKgct7I/AAAAAAAABe4/GFFtMMNknKk/s1600/rebeccaschermsolarflarefromsharpersun.png" height="467" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Rebecca in Solar Flare from a Sharper Sun, <span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">© </span>Solar Dynamics Observatory/AIA, NASA</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #351c75;">Rebecca sent me a delightful e-mail last year (after discovering Nosy Girl through her reading of <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/12/nosy-interview-alyssa-harad.html" target="_blank">Alyssa Harad</a>) wondering whether I was still collecting nosy interviews. It was a fine question as this interview space has been woefully under-utilized! But let Rebecca serve as signal flare, launching us back into more regular postings of Nosy Interviews. (I've missed them.) Rebecca's debut novel, <i><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780525427506" target="_blank">Unbecoming</a>, </i>comes out next week and after reading her responses you'll probably join me in jonesing to read it. While we wait, let's visit <a href="http://www.rebeccascherm.com/" target="_blank">Rebecca's website</a> and follow her on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/chezscherm" target="_blank">@chezscherm</a>. </span><br />
<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;">What do you like to smell?</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I like bracing smells —Aquavit,
grapefruit peel, black pepper—and green-grungy smells like moss and damp bark. I
love the smell of Sun Bum sunblock, which has the best “postcard from the
beach” memory-scent. I love the smell of my gentleman when he has just come in
from playing basketball—the fresh sweat of single-minded exuberance. The
timothy hay my rabbit eats. Saltwater. Cilantro. And what I sometimes think of
as cellar smells: cardboard, wet rocks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I was a
teenager, I liked all those blue-bottle “clean” scents—Gap Dream and any lotion
called “calm” or “serenity.” But one day I was watching a maxi-pad commercial
on TV and when they poured the blue juice, I conflated it with all those blue bottles
and that was the end of that. Now that I’m older, I guess I like to smell a
little dirty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The first
not-food smells I remember loving are grass clippings left on a lawn and the
small hardware store, then called Botkin’s, where I grew up. Concrete, dirt, fertilizer,
unknown greases and glues. I love the smell of wet paint as you roll it on the
wall (the sound, too). Murphy’s oil soap. I love the smell of black mulch and
cedar mulch. These are all home-owning smells, aren’t they? I can’t explain it.
I don’t own a house. Maybe these are my smells of childhood happiness—the
scents of playing outside and then coming home, together.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div>
<b style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><br /></b><b style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"> </b></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><b>What do you smell like? </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was an
unlikely candidate for perfume. I turn my nose up at “fancy” things, ads that
quantify sex appeal, the notion that you can purchase something that represents
you better than you can.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What happened
was that I was in Manhattan and needing to pee so I went into Bergdorf Goodman,
somewhere I only ever go to pee. On my way out, a man waved a fuchsia glass
bottle at me and swore I would love it. Instead of just saying no thanks and
moving on, I told him that I didn’t like fruity smells. I may have been
prickly. I didn’t like how he’d pegged me. Then he asked me what I </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">did</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> like, and I stopped and said “grass
clippings.” I guess I thought that would end the conversation. Instead, he
leapt to a bottle at the other end of the counter, and I let him spray it on
me. I had no idea </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">what</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I was
smelling, only that my skin smelled rebellious—languid, arrogant, humid, and
green. The word I always want to use for it is “humpy.” I felt almost stoned.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">That’s how it
starts, right? I felt transformed, like this perfume had given me some new
quiet power. Later, when I held out my wrist to a friend, she recoiled. To her
it smelled like a rich old man offering to show us his etchings. I couldn’t
believe it! I second-guessed myself and smelled hundreds of perfumes that weekend,
but everything else seemed sweet or powdery or like a red scarf thrown over a
lamp. But I couldn’t buy Humpy. For one thing, it was $300—which didn’t jibe at
all, since to me it smelled like drunken skinny-dipping in a slippery,
algae-skinned watering hole. $300 was out of the question, both really and
philosophically. It made so mad that I liked it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A month later, I
bought a sample vial on the internet. My feelings about it have changed since
that first spell of mad lust. What we have is a summer thing. It’s only Humpy
when it’s hot outside, when it mixes with sun and sweat. In the cold, it smells
</span><i style="font-family: inherit;">moneyed</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">, and I hate it and don’t get
it at all. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But that was my
first bite of the apple. I know I'm still at the beginning of this, and I only like
perhaps one perfume in a hundred, but the odds just stoke my appetite. I have
to </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">find</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> them. When I do, I feel this
rush of both revelation and recognition, as though I’ve found something I was
trying to say but could not find words for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To finally
answer your question: I smell of Annick Goutal L’Eau d’Hadrien and Voyage
d'Hermes when I’m feeling nice and Creed Original Vetiver (yep, that’s Humpy)
when I’m not. I still have only sample vials. But the scent of my truest heart
is Wild Hunt, from CB I Hate Perfume. In it, I feel profoundly </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">mine</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">. </span></div>
nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-19362757815117730832014-11-24T12:36:00.000-05:002014-11-24T12:38:11.903-05:00late-fall reading list What are you reading? I have four end-of-fall recommendations, all from Nosy Interviewees (all fragrant, foxy, and friendly): <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://charlotteboulay.com/purchase/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yg98i0rSU8E/U8wYJ2zKLpI/AAAAAAAABW4/aQjKr_JVrfA/s1600/foxes.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
<img align="left" alt="F" src="http://dailydropcap.com/images/F-4-cap.png" title="Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische" /><a href="http://charlotteboulay.com/purchase/" target="_blank">oxes on the Trampoline </a>by <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/03/nosy-interview-charlotte.html" target="_blank">Charlotte Boulay</a><br />
Charlotte, the first-ever(!) nosy interviewee featured on the site, published her first book of poems and it's gorgeous, funny, and brilliant. It gave me chills on a 90 percent humidity day this summer in Boston and now it's giving me comfort as the days grow short, and cold. You can read Charlotte's poem "<a href="http://www.cleavermagazine.com/scientists-have-discovered-by-charlotte-boulay/" target="_blank">Scientists Have Discovered</a>," on your phone right now, as you walk to the bookstore to <a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780062302496" target="_blank">buy her book</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780374158613" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hoRpQCBrXls/U8wYOdAXpTI/AAAAAAAABXA/tZ0WHePDXo4/s1600/friendship.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<img align="left" alt="F" src="http://dailydropcap.com/images/F-11-cap.png" title="Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische" /><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780374158613" target="_blank">riendship</a> by <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/01/nosy-interview-emily-gould.html" target="_blank">Emily Gould</a><br />
Read the first chapter of Emily's lovely and funny and bittersweet debut novel <a href="http://blog.longreads.com/2014/07/01/friendship-the-full-first-chapter-from-emily-goulds-new-novel/" target="_blank">here</a>, and then <a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780374158613" target="_blank">get into it</a> with Bev and Amy as they sort out their lives in contrast to and connection with one another in a way that is so welcome. If this list has you hankering for still more book recommendations, hightail it over to Emily Books and s<a href="http://emilybooks.com/products/subscription-to-emilybooks" target="_blank">ubscribe to receive one great ebook each month for a year.</a> (Emily, self-proclaimed perfume nerd, also has a <a href="http://www.bookforum.com/inprint/021_03/13638" target="_blank">great review </a>of Mandy Aftel's <i>Fragrant, </i>next on this list, at <i>Bookforum.</i>)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.aftelier.com/category-s/1825.htm" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5-AvXYSjxMs/U8wYXYl_MuI/AAAAAAAABXI/jDNHkqVX1eI/s1600/fragrant.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img align="left" alt="F" src="http://dailydropcap.com/images/F-2-cap.png" title="Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische" /><a href="http://www.penguin.com/book/fragrant-by-mandy-aftel/9781594631412" target="_blank">ragrant </a>by<a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/01/nosy-interview-mandy-aftel.html" target="_blank"> Mandy Aftel</a><br />
<br />
That cover! It matches the amazing packaging Aftel uses in her shop (where you can buy <a href="http://www.aftelier.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=FRAGRANT%2DKIT" target="_blank">the companion kit </a>to <i>Fragrant</i> and "smell along" as you read), and you can bet what's inside this book will be more beautiful still. How have I not read this yet?!? I revere Mandy! It tops my to-read list, and here's a taste from the jacket copy:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">In </span><i style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Fragrant</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">, through five major players in the epic of aroma, she explores the profound connection between our sense of smell and the appetites that move us, give us pleasure, make us fully alive. Cinnamon, queen of the Spice Route, touches our hunger for the unknown, the exotic, the luxurious. Mint, homegrown the world over, speaks to our affinity for the familiar, the native, the authentic. Frankincense, an ancient incense ingredient, taps into our longing for transcendence, while ambergris embodies our unquenchable curiosity. And exquisite jasmine exemplifies our yearning for beauty, both evanescent and enduring.</span></blockquote>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.blackocean.org/catalog1/the-self-unstable" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qqPczR02vOs/VBdNo_sx03I/AAAAAAAABeQ/QceA_AXcogY/s1600/theselfunstable.jpg" height="320" width="234" /></a></div>
<br />
<img align="left" alt="T" src="http://dailydropcap.com/images/T-11-cap.png" title="Daily Drop Cap by Jessica Hische" /><a href="http://www.blackocean.org/catalog1/the-self-unstable" target="_blank">he Self Unstable</a> by <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/04/nosy-interview-elisa-gabbert.html" target="_blank">Elisa Gabbert</a><br />
<br />
Elisa's writing is so smart and funny and humane and it will get under your skin in a good way and change the way you see. The cover makes me a little bit dizzy, but champagne-dizzy, where everything holds so much promise and sparkle, and everyone is wittier and more beautiful than they were just a few hours earlier. Elisa makes it so.<br />
<br />
<br />
{All the pretty drop caps are courtesy <a href="http://www.dailydropcap.com/see-everything" target="_blank">Jessica Hisch's Daily Drop Cap</a>.}<br />
<br />nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-67235886423403224742014-06-28T10:22:00.001-04:002014-06-28T10:33:11.062-04:00grown in rwanda <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I0-eCqogV-4/U666xQfZk6I/AAAAAAAABWY/4JSLpT-kBu4/s1600/nosyfield.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I0-eCqogV-4/U666xQfZk6I/AAAAAAAABWY/4JSLpT-kBu4/s1600/nosyfield.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lowell interviews Nyirahabimana in Gisagara, Rwanda.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">Minsi myinshi (long time), Nosy friends! I have missed you. I apologize for this fallow period. I've had a lot of trouble accessing Blogger from Rwanda, where I'm still happily sniffing the best coffee on earth and burying my nose in my scarf against burning-tire smells. I've also neglected this space some in favor of finally finishing a big draft of my novel, which I hope smells like the air before a summer thunderstorm. Though I haven't been posting much, I'll return to the U.S., thanks in a major way to my Kinyarwanda-speaking partner (pictured in the field above, eliciting the laughter that "What do you, yourself, think you smell like?" was usually met with), with heaps of really amazing Nosy Interviews that I'm so eager to share with you. (We've collected nearly 100! I'm also sitting on a small but marvelous backlog of interviews from sniffers in the U.S. and other parts of the globe--I haven't forgotten you either!).</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hozO-2-WqQc/U667oFtRz_I/AAAAAAAABWg/glw83xqFARQ/s1600/rusweet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hozO-2-WqQc/U667oFtRz_I/AAAAAAAABWg/glw83xqFARQ/s1600/rusweet.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look what grows in Rwanda (floral arrangements by Ru, one of my very favorite visitors)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">We return to the U.S. this week, and once I catch my breath I hope to deluge you with so many smells you'll be dizzy. Apologies to those who have provided such lovely interview responses only to have them languish for this long (fermenting nicely!), and to you, if you've come here lately hoping for some fresh smells only to find me wishing you a Happy New Year/Valentine's Day yet again. I do hope the first half of your 2014 has been fragrant, that <a href="https://twitter.com/tejucole/timelines/467887696967659520" target="_blank">beautiful flowers are blooming wherever you are</a>, and that you'll stick with me even after this sorry stretch of blog-anosmia. A sneak preview of some of the smells people here have shared stories about: snake's breath, the flower that kills luck, clean riverbeds, sun-dried laundry, warm milk, and every smell you can imagine (and some you haven't yet) relating to cows. </span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-75677385884623127072014-02-13T06:56:00.000-05:002014-02-13T06:56:24.354-05:00love you, stinkpots <b>
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--</style><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Yow! Happy Valentine’s Day! What could be more
romantic than the removal of the toilet in your home, exposing a vast waste-well
that dwells just beneath the floor? It is tremendous, really, the smell of so
much waste, and contrary to my hyperbolic moans and groans, and the speed with
which I fled the scene, I suppose I still believe it is good to be
reminded, once in a while, of the shit just beneath the antiseptic pink
bathroom tiles. And this shit, forced as it is to linger in the city, underneath
so much concrete, confronts with such force precisely because it is indoors,
doesn’t even have the benefit of being surrounded on all sides by trees and
breeze and grass and dirt and the shit of other animals, powering up the plants
that fuel our future shits. [Updated to add: The source of the ongoing <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2014/01/new-year-new-smells.html" target="_blank">toilet drama</a> turns out to be tree roots growing into, and blocking, the pipes. <i>Know our power!</i>, say the mighty trees, even as we rip out their roots.] </b></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>I smelled many amazing things in January. Some highlights: </b></span></span></span><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VKIKRcLGm84/Uvyq4SPniEI/AAAAAAAABVU/-bBMNJWuju0/s1600/eakit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VKIKRcLGm84/Uvyq4SPniEI/AAAAAAAABVU/-bBMNJWuju0/s1600/eakit.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sniffin' hard </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><ul>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Early in January, my new friend Mario, who has been
incredibly generous with his amazing olfactory knowledge, invited me to a
cupping at the Starbucks Farmers' Training Center in Kigali. It was great fun
to play around with the <a href="http://www.lenez.com/en/produits/Revelation-Passion_1.htm" target="_blank">coffee notes kits</a>, to sniff and slurp
freshly-roasted coffee with expert cuppers, and to gain insight into how
professional noses approach coffee. Mario stressed the importance of being able
to differentiate between preference and description, something I struggle with
when approaching complex aromas. My nose zooms right in on the notes I love
(chocolate, maple syrup, and toast when it comes to the coffee I'm drinking
most often these days), and I want to work on sussing out those notes that I
don’t love so well. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TmdqwZcVR44/Uvyq3kiq2PI/AAAAAAAABVI/t9hjKe9BHl4/s1600/mariocoffeeflowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TmdqwZcVR44/Uvyq3kiq2PI/AAAAAAAABVI/t9hjKe9BHl4/s1600/mariocoffeeflowers.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mario in his element </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><ul>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Mario, pictured above with an in-bloom coffee tree
growing in his front yard, is also responsible for introducing me to the smell
of a coffee flower. It was so beautiful! It smelled of jasmine and lilac, two
flowers I adore, and I was swooning at the thought of encountering whole fields
of these. Mario and Lucius, resident coffee geniuses, have both spent loads of
time in just such fields, and their descriptions have propelled coffee-field-in-bloom to the top of my travel wishlist.
</span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;">I learned that the heady, crazy-making flowers in
the <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2014/01/new-year-new-smells.html" target="_blank">previous post</a> are called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brugmansia" target="_blank">brugmansia</a>, or, in
Kinyarwanda, ikigogo/ikijojo, and that they can legitimately <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/14631706" target="_blank">make you mad</a>. (Thanks to <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/09/nosy-interview-elizabeth-mathews.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth</a> and Diana for sharing your plant wisdom.) </span><span><span style="color: #444444;"> </span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2fa72qxgrsM/UvyslWwMkFI/AAAAAAAABVc/Anw9ev2csbA/s1600/hailfeetNUR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2fa72qxgrsM/UvyslWwMkFI/AAAAAAAABVc/Anw9ev2csbA/s1600/hailfeetNUR.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ice-chip-sized hail! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">In late January, there was a freak hailstorm in
Butare, amidst day after day of sunshine and near-90s
weather. The ground near the National University was steaming as the huge
pieces of hail melted, and this seemed to set off every fragrant plant in the
area—my husband and I could smell blasts of eucalyptus and lemongrass from the
car even with the windows rolled up. There was also a super-intense curry-like
smell that reminded me very much of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asafoetida">asafoetida</a>. We
found the scratchy little leaves that were giving off the hing-smell, and I'll
endeavor to find out what the plant is called (when the leaves dried, they
smelled much fruitier, almost plummy or currant-like. Nature is nuts!).</span></span></span></li>
</ul>
<b><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">In spite of the hail, it's the short dry season in
Rwanda, and this means the return of what I've come to think of as dusty B.O.
The hot sun leads to sweatier humans, to be sure, but I think there's a
particular bite to the B.O. that's mixing with so much kicked-up dust. It’s one
of the first smell-changes I noticed in myself <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2013/09/like-rocks-long-for-rain.html" target="_blank">when I arrived in dusty Kigali last summer</a>. I want to learn to embrace elements of this powerful stink, to
again distinguish between preference and description, and to fight against the
fact that I was, like many Americans, “<a href="http://swallowmagazine.com/sissel-tolaas/" target="_blank">born with deodorant in [my] hand</a>.”
(Click that link for great interview with Sissel Tolaas in <i>Swallow </i>magazine.) To understand a place, to know a person, you must smell them at their worst.
Not that I think it’s possible to understand anywhere, to really know anyone, but
the joy comes in the endeavor, the</span></span> trek through all that shit.</span></b><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-28118803357306798152014-01-07T10:30:00.001-05:002014-01-07T16:01:00.496-05:00new year, new smells <div dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-421deece-6d35-063b-ffdb-afc86761c264" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><i>Mwaka Mushya</i>, Nosy Readers! I've neglected this space lately, but I’m still experiencing all sorts of new smells in Rwanda. We’ve relocated from Kigali to<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butare" target="_blank"> Huye/Butare</a>, where the dusty red roads, rows of semi-abandoned storefronts, and legitimate cowboys give the place a real Wild West feel. But the people are warm, and Butare is home to the best ice cream and coffee in all of Rwanda (more on both in later posts), so it’s a good move. I will be back with new <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/search/label/nosyinterviews?max-results=9" target="_blank">Nosy Interviews </a>soon, but in the meantime, here are some of the best and worst things I’ve smelled in the last few weeks:</span></span></div>
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><u>The best:</u></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SvoCJ3WCFck/UswW-R_31eI/AAAAAAAABUw/G488WAcfamo/s1600/eucalyptusnuts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SvoCJ3WCFck/UswW-R_31eI/AAAAAAAABUw/G488WAcfamo/s1600/eucalyptusnuts.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image via <a href="http://malleenativeplants.com.au/growing-eucalyptus-from-seeds/" target="_blank">Mallee Native Plants</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
</div>
<br />
<ol>
<li><span style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>Eucalyptus seeds! Have you ever seen these? They look like darling vintage buttons, bell-shaped and clustered together, their star-shaped openings secreting the stickiest rich sweet smell of their seeds. I’ve had a dried cluster on my desk for a couple of weeks, and it still yields its plummy (more in terms of the color of the smell than the actual smell), tangy, resinous scent. Let’s hope I don’t get one of these gum nuts stuck in my nostril.</b></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEian7ziq1N_vJghAWCoENvvZozxUA56X63z4LjXbWngV8jg9tXQwNyRzJyj-K-gcHNBIvUdRoV697hL2xL2Gs29woUABjH21ld9HSHyjThY42wVYxPVbS0NsV61yKB0AkqGwhPI1Sy5bpM/s1600/yellowbells.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEian7ziq1N_vJghAWCoENvvZozxUA56X63z4LjXbWngV8jg9tXQwNyRzJyj-K-gcHNBIvUdRoV697hL2xL2Gs29woUABjH21ld9HSHyjThY42wVYxPVbS0NsV61yKB0AkqGwhPI1Sy5bpM/s1600/yellowbells.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(so overwhelmed by the scent that I've gone blurry)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.15;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>These yellow bell flowers! Their smell is totally insane! (That’s me above, standing under them, drunk with delight. Does anyone know what these are? I must get myself a field guide.) These bloom at dusk and in the evenings and they will give you a new understanding of the word intoxicating, their sexy indolic smell enough to make you wish to become one of the bugs or birds that goes bell to bell, helping these plants propagate.</b></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zRc-ZEa0Wpk/UswXUjNQ3fI/AAAAAAAABU4/jlRJoVHJNvg/s1600/smokeinyambo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zRc-ZEa0Wpk/UswXUjNQ3fI/AAAAAAAABU4/jlRJoVHJNvg/s1600/smokeinyambo.jpg" height="400" width="397" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An <i><a href="https://www.google.rw/search?q=inyambo&safe=off&client=firefox-a&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=eBvMUt-_EMml0QXCkYHwDQ&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAQ&biw=1250&bih=545" target="_blank">inyambo</a></i> gets scented up </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></li>
<li><b><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.15; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s been far too long since we’ve discussed <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/search?q=manure" target="_blank">manure</a> around these parts. I recently smelled some very fine dried and burning cow dung (</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; line-height: 1.15; vertical-align: baseline;">royal </span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.15; vertical-align: baseline;">cow dung) in Nyanza, where the royal herd is kept. The herders burn a huge stack of dried dung to keep flies away from the cows, and these majestic (and smart!) creatures come over and stand inches from the fire to season their skin with the smoke, and make its fly-repellent power last.</span></span></b></li>
</ol>
<u style="line-height: 1.15;">The worst:</u><br />
<ol>
<li><b style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.15;">Burning tires/garbage still holds my top-spot for smells I like least in Rwanda. On a walk, my dear friend D. mentioned how the smell reminds her of her childhood, and because of this, she likes it. People are often surprised to learn that others like smells they consider gross: manure, gasoline, skunks. This might be the first time I joined in such surprise, and even though the odor of burning tires still makes me want to gag, I do think of it a bit differently since she shared her nostalgia with me.</b></li>
<li><span style="line-height: 1.15;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><b>A new contender for grossest smell in Rwanda is the sausage-like aroma that rises up from one of the toilets in our new place (Welcome/warning, future houseguests!). Yesterday I think I came closest to an accurate description when I described it as ‘hot-rot turkey carcass.’ We’re working on it (both getting rid of the smell (me & my husband) and figuring out how best to describe it (mostly me, as he doesn’t think it’s quite as bad as I do—hopefully future houseguests will find they agree with him.)).</b></span></span></li>
</ol>
<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;">I’ll be back soon with some recommended reading and more notes on smells, but in the meantime, <a href="mailto:thenosygirl@gmail.com" target="_blank">I’d love to hear </a>about the best and worst things you’ve smelled so far in 2014.</span></span><br />
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span></div>
nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-33771238505577589132013-12-23T06:24:00.000-05:002014-06-28T10:16:36.338-04:00a red smell after sudden rain <div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iO4KIbA7_TI/UrgJMB5XuHI/AAAAAAAABUY/C59eq29_sX8/s1600/Kalahari_Desert00_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iO4KIbA7_TI/UrgJMB5XuHI/AAAAAAAABUY/C59eq29_sX8/s1600/Kalahari_Desert00_02.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kalahari Desert © <a href="http://www.gondwana-collection.com/home/attractions/kalahari-desert/kalahari-desert-images/" target="_blank">Hentie Burger</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It took me a long time to finish the remarkable <i>Mating </i>by Norman Rush, and even longer to stop wishing I were still reading it. I'm still calling up things I learned from the book in regular conversation, wondering for a moment who told me this or that, remembering, again, that it was no one I've met, but someone I do know well. Here is our unnamed narrator on a smell she can't forget: </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The smell of the Kalahari after sudden rain is something you
never forget. What blooms up, especially when the sun gets to work, and even in
cool-tending June weather, is an odor so powerful and so elusive that you want
to keep inhaling it in order to make up your mind which it is, foul or sweet.
It seems poised midway between the two poles. It’s resinous or like tar, and
like the first smell of liver when it touches a hot pan. It fades as the
dryness returns, and as it does you will it to persist until you can penetrate
it. It’s also mineral. Nelson thought I was hyperventilating, until I
explained. I think he said he agreed it was remarkable—I had gotten to the
point of claiming the smell was red, or maroon, somehow—but that if he didn’t
react as strongly as I did, there was a reason. I’ve been here longer than you,
he said. </span></b></span></blockquote>
</div>
nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-25343229314932818032013-10-31T10:39:00.004-04:002013-10-31T10:40:26.563-04:00kigaloween, and the tale of the scary spice <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1kBreFX-H2Q/UnJnQB6Xr8I/AAAAAAAABT8/42RF0i2eLv4/s1600/kigaloweenpunkinhead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1kBreFX-H2Q/UnJnQB6Xr8I/AAAAAAAABT8/42RF0i2eLv4/s640/kigaloweenpunkinhead.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kigaloween spirit </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #444444;">Happy Halloween! Or Kigaloween, as I'm celebrating this year. The
scariest smell of the week was definitely the overpowering olfactory
force of the seeds of dozens of <i>urusenda</i>, or hot peppers (<i>very</i> hot
peppers), that I was preparing for pili pili sauce (I followed<a href="http://mamacongo.blogspot.com/2012/05/cooking-with-mamas-pili-pili-sauce.html" target="_blank"> these guidelines</a>, plus olive oil and salt). Having been in Rwanda only three months, I am already at pains to tolerate a potato without the homemade hot sauce that's available at most restaurants. We use (and love) <a href="http://blog.cookingchanneltv.com/2012/12/07/hot-sauce-rwanda-akabanga/" target="_blank">Akabanga</a> and Sabana at home, but I wanted some of the fresh stuff, so I set about deseeding dozens of the beauties pictured below with the protection of some latex gloves (kindly provided by my friend and housemate, from her stash dedicated for use in archival research--who says it doesn't pay to live with graduate students?). I was not prepared for the power of these seeds! (My hands may have been, but my nose, throat, eyes, and brain were unguarded.) Even the next day--when the bulk of the seeds had been discarded, but a few remained, along with the peppers, waiting for the superglue to dry on the food processor (owned by that same beloved, well-prepared researcher)--everyone who entered the kitchen came away crying and coughing. </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pw63RHDB5wc/UnJmpoPYccI/AAAAAAAABTw/LyGKi0M3_FQ/s1600/urusenda.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pw63RHDB5wc/UnJmpoPYccI/AAAAAAAABTw/LyGKi0M3_FQ/s1600/urusenda.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My apologies, housemates! Please enjoy the hot sauce in the fridge, now de-weaponized. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">So I have even more sympathy than I otherwise might for the residents of Irwindale, California, who have </span><a href="http://www.latimes.com/local/lanow/la-me-ln-irwindale-sues-sriracha-20131028,0,2608897.story#axzz2jHy0Ab9M" target="_blank">filed a suit </a><span style="color: #444444;">against </span><a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2013/apr/12/business/la-fi-himi-tran-20130414" target="_blank">Huy Fong Foods</a><span style="color: #444444;">, maker of the indispensable </span><a href="http://www.bonappetit.com/trends/article/huy-fong-s-sriracha-hot-sauce" target="_blank">Sriracha</a><span style="color: #444444;"> (and, even more delicious in my estimation, </span><a href="http://www.huyfong.com/no_frames/garlic.htm" target="_blank">chili garlic sauce</a><span style="color: #444444;">): </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">...[In] </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px; text-align: left;">Irwindale, where the hot sauce’s production facilities are, residents are complaining of burning eyes, irritated throats and headaches caused by a powerful, painful odor that the city says appears to be emanating from the factory during production. The smell is so aggressive that one family was forced to move a birthday party indoors after the spicy odor descended on the festivities, said Irwindale City Atty. Fred Galante.</span></b></span></blockquote>
<br />
<div>
<span style="color: #444444;">The spicy odor descended! This is the kind of smell news I savor. I can just see the ghoulish little phantasm of a fiery pepper (probably baring teeth similar to those pictured on the pumpkin above) snaking into this celebration, forcing everyone to clutch their party hats and run inside with their cake. A judge will decide whether Huy Fong must "stop production until the smell can be reduced,"and I suspect I speak for hot sauce lovers worldwide when I say I hope the company and the city can come to a speedy resolution. Huy Fong produces 20 million bottles of Sriracha each year, and it's certainly scary to imagine all the foods out there, counting on that delicious spice, remaining bland in its absence. </span></div>
nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-81995875715362911642013-10-31T09:09:00.000-04:002013-10-31T09:09:12.690-04:00fall harvest<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wxORpvP_DRo/UnJJl9rE32I/AAAAAAAABTg/IwqQdqFPFfE/s1600/reliefforleaflonging.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wxORpvP_DRo/UnJJl9rE32I/AAAAAAAABTg/IwqQdqFPFfE/s1600/reliefforleaflonging.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kigali kindly provides some relief for my leaf-longing. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Autumn offerings from talented Nosy Interviewees: </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/10/nosy-interview-jesmyn-ward.html" target="_blank"><b>Jesmyn Ward's</b></a> memoir, <i>Men We Reaped, </i>is out now, and it's every bit as harrowing, gorgeous, and essential as early rave reviews have suggested. Here's a scent-related fragment from Jesmyn's <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/books/ct-prj-0825-trayvon-martin-jesmyn-ward-20130826,0,1736048.story" target="_blank">essay</a> honoring the memory of Trayvon Martin, as well as her brother, Joshua: </span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #351c75; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b>"I don't know if I imagined it or not, but his dog seemed quieter, subdued after my brother died, as if he spent his days wondering where his owner, the tall boy with butter yellow skin who smelled like coconut oil and hay burned fragrant in the sunshine, went."</b></span></blockquote>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;">Frequent collaborators <b><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/04/nosy-interview-elisa-gabbert.html" target="_blank">Elisa Gabbert</a></b> and <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/10/nosy-interview-kathleen-rooney.html" target="_blank"><b>Kathleen Rooney</b></a> have a new chapbook, </span><i style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;">The Kind of Beauty That Has Nowhere to Go, </i><a href="http://hyacinthgirlpress.com/yearthree/thekindofbeauty.html" style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;" target="_blank">available now from Hyacinth Girl Press</a><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;">. Here's one line from a </span><a href="http://www.nailedmagazine.com/poetry/poetry-suite-by-kathleen-rooney-and-elisa-gabbert/" style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;" target="_blank">suite of five smart, lovely poems</a><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;"> you can read at </span><i style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;">Nailed: </i><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;"> </span></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b style="background-color: white; color: #351c75; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Don’t start thinking about how smells smell to anyone else. You’ll only start freaking out about the limitations of knowledge.</span></b></blockquote>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline !important; float: none; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.5px;"><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/07/nosy-interview-kate-lebo.html" target="_blank"><b>Kate Lebo</b></a> has a very exciting year in store (and, woah, a </span><a href="http://katelebo.wordpress.com/" style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;" target="_blank">gorgeous new web site</a><span style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;">! Perhaps you can </span><a href="http://katelebo.wordpress.com/readings/" style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;" target="_blank">meet Kate on her tour </a><span style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;">in support of </span><i style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;">A Commonplace Book of Pie</i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;">) and her poem, </span><i style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;"><a href="http://katelebo.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/rhubarb-the-green-age-final-proof-from-gastro.pdf" target="_blank">Rhubarb, the Green Age</a> </i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;">will appear in the fall issue of </span><i style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;">Gastronomica. </i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-weight: normal; line-height: 22.5px;">The first two stanzas: </span></span></span></div>
<div style="color: #292727; font-weight: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline !important; float: none; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 22.5px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline !important; float: none; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 22.5px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #292727;"> <b> </b></span><span style="color: #351c75;"><b> What puckered honey was potted last fall,</b></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline !important; float: none; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 22.5px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><b> its rootball a muddy peach, split dead </b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline !important; float: none; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline !important; float: none; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><b> center and buried to kindle a pair </b></span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline !important; float: none; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: inherit;"><b> of pie plants. What bitterleaf </b></span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="line-height: 22px;"><span style="color: #444444;">My nosiness most certainly extends into (perhaps excessive) interest in the contents of people's handbags (and <a href="http://heavytable.com/whats-in-princes-fridge/" target="_blank">refrigerators</a> and <a href="http://intothegloss.com/2013/10/poppy-king-lipstick-queen/" target="_blank">medicine cabinets</a>), so I was delighted to get a <a href="https://www.whatsinmyhandbag.com/magazine/452/katie-puckrik" target="_blank">peek into <b>Katie Puckrik's</b> purse</a>, and read the accompanying interview, which includes this ringing & tingling endorsement of Safran Troublant (a favorite of my own main squeeze): </span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>I love turning people onto the off-beat seductive powers of Safran
Troublant by L'Artisan Parfumeur. With its saffron, rose, vanilla and
sandalwood, Disturbing Saffron is an unusual variation on a gourmand.
And sexxxaaaayyyy....hoo boy. Put it this way: in ancient Rome, the
expression 'sleeping on a bed of saffron' referred to a long hard night
of making whoopee.<span style="line-height: 22px;"> </span></b></span></blockquote>
<div>
<div>
<div style="color: #292727;">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; display: inline !important; float: none; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/05/nosy-interview-rebecca-hoogs.html" target="_blank"><b>Rebecca Hoogs</b> </a>and <b><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/11/nosy-interview-margaret-mk-hess.html" target="_blank">Maggie MK Hess </a></b>have <a href="http://www.oberlin.edu/ocpress/FIELD/89.html#1" style="font-weight: normal;" target="_blank">beautiful poems</a> in the Fall 2013 issue of <i style="font-weight: normal;">FIELD</i>. What luck that you can read two of these poems online! But <i style="font-weight: normal;">FIELD</i> clearly has very good taste in poets, so you may also wish to <a href="http://www.oberlin.edu/ocpress/ordering.html" style="font-weight: normal;" target="_blank">order the issue</a>. (You'll get a bonus poem by Rebecca!) The first two stanzas of Maggie MK's poem, "Role Play": </span></span></div>
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #351c75; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: inherit; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b></b></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #351c75; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: inherit; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b>Let's be lesser known suns.<br />You love me up close and I'll love you<br />from over here. We'll be ok if our legs<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.5px;"> </span></b></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #351c75; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: inherit; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 22.5px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b>are strong against the horse. Oh, quick,<br />quick, he's getting away. Let's rub<br />our noses until we smell of home.</b></span></blockquote>
<br />
<div style="color: #292727;">
<span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;">Not available online, but so worth seeking out, are </span><b style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/07/nosy-interview-britta-ameel.html" target="_blank">Britta Ameel's </a></b><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;">amazing poems in the September/October 2103 issue of </span><i style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.aprweb.org/issue/septemberoctober-2013" target="_blank">The American Poetry Review</a>.</i><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: left;"> Here is the opening of "Self-Portrait with Planet and Hypothetical," one of my favorite poems by Britta (one of my favorite poems, full-stop): </span></div>
<div style="color: #292727;">
<b style="color: #351c75; line-height: 22px; text-align: left;"></b></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b style="color: #351c75; line-height: 22px; text-align: left;">Yes, my body, my boss, my blood, yes,<br />my sucking heart. The world radiates<br />forth in its phosphorescent slump. </b></blockquote>
</div>
</div>
<div style="color: #292727;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="line-height: 22px;"><b>Nosy friends and former interviewees, please <a href="mailto:thenosygirl@gmail.com" target="_blank">let me know</a> if you have something to add to this fall bounty! </b></span></div>
</div>
nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-60938458487133985622013-10-01T16:51:00.001-04:002013-10-02T14:19:42.916-04:00Nosy Interview: Saskia Wilson-Brown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-96iCliLbwSc/UWZIePvoUhI/AAAAAAAABLM/IXOLMQYy188/s1600/saskia+in+NGC+2170-+Celestial+Still+Life+_bobillo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-96iCliLbwSc/UWZIePvoUhI/AAAAAAAABLM/IXOLMQYy188/s640/saskia+in+NGC+2170-+Celestial+Still+Life+_bobillo.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: white;">Saskia in <span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">NGC 2170: Celestial Still Life<span class="Apple-converted-space">, © Ignacio Diaz Bobillo </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://artandolfaction.com/team/staff/saskia-wilson-brown/" target="_blank">Saskia</a> is the fearless founder of the awesomely innovative<a href="http://artandolfaction.com/" target="_blank"> Institute for Art and Olfaction</a>. If you're in the Los Angeles area, you should definitely check out their <a href="http://artandolfaction.com/category/calendar/" target="_blank">events</a> and stop in for an open session. No matter where you are, I recommend nosing around (how could I resist?) the <a href="http://artandolfaction.com/" target="_blank">IAO website</a> and liking their <a href="https://www.facebook.com/artandolfaction" target="_blank">Facebook page</a> (they post great links!), and not just because I'm proud to be have their support for my <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2013/07/nosy-in-about-rwanda.html" target="_blank">nosy research in Rwanda</a>. You can find and follow <a href="https://twitter.com/saskiawb" target="_blank">Saskia</a> (and the <a href="https://twitter.com/artandolfaction" target="_blank">IAO</a>) on Twitter, too. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>What do you smell like? <span style="background-color: white; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span></b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: white; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Right now it's Sunday night, and I think I smell like a day well lived: Sun baked skin, myriad bits of displaced leaves and grass, steer manure (unfortunately hard to remove), a smidge of 'Jeux de Peau' by Serge Lutens, and, inevitably, coffee and cigarettes. Every perfume I buy has to compete with a base of cigarette smoke. It's a unique challenge, but I like to tell myself it makes my life a little more Brigitte Bardot.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br style="background-color: white; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">So let's just say I smell like Brigitte Bardot (minus the steer manure: I sincerely doubt she gardened).</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: white; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="color: #351c75;"><b>What do you like to smell? <span style="background-color: white; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></b></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Other than the obvious pleasant smells like flowers and frying onions and such, some smells I've always loved are: Los Angeles after it rains (steaming cement, basically: strangely earthy), sandalwood, grapefruits, tacos, an art studio (oil paints make me nostalgic), chlorine, an empty ski run in freezing weather (solitude!), cigarette smoke after an especially long meeting, jet fuel, the nape of my husband's neck...<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br style="background-color: white; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: white; display: inline ! important; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">What I always enjoy spending nose-time on is an unfolding idea. I've never had a hyper-developed nose like so many folks who are into scent. For me it's been an extremely strange process of learning how to identify and put words onto what I'm smelling. But the concepts behind the scents are what really get me. When someone is using scent as an art medium, and can use elements in a symbolic way-- when a perfume becomes an illustration of a concept or a story. So I guess I love the smell of a good story.</span></span></span></span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-91649789628590000752013-09-18T16:59:00.000-04:002013-09-18T16:59:37.284-04:00like rocks long for rainIs it possible I learned the word petrichor from <a href="http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/petrichor" target="_blank">Tumblr</a>? I believe I can thank Tumblr for both leading me to believe the lovely word referred to the scent of any and all earth after rain, and for teaching me that it's, more specifically, the smell of rain on <i>dry </i>earth. Petrichor, according to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petrichor" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a>, is "the scent of rain on dry earth, or the scent of dust after rain. The word is constructed from Greek, <i>petros</i>, meaning <i>stone</i> + <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ichor" title="Ichor">ichor</a></i>, the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods in Greek mythology. It is defined as 'the distinctive scent which accompanies the first rain after a long warm dry spell.'" According to<a href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=storm-scents-smell-rain" target="_blank"> </a><i><a href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=storm-scents-smell-rain" target="_blank">Scientific American</a>, "</i>Petrichor was <a href="http://chemport.cas.org/cgi-bin/sdcgi?APP=ftslink&action=reflink&origin=npg&version=1.0&coi=1:CAS:528:DyaF2cXnsVCmsg%3D%3D&pissn=0028-0836&pyear=1965&md5=e69431f269998ab0b70dd6759a53d72c" target="_blank">first described in 1964</a> by mineralogists Isabel Joy Bear and R. G. Thomas...As they defined it, it occurs when airborne molecules from decomposing plant or animal matter become attached to mineral or clay surfaces. During a dry spell, these molecules chemically recombine with other elements on a rock's surface. Then when the rains came, the redolent combination of fatty acids, alcohols and hydrocarbons is released."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Auufo7gJRb4/UjoPuJjXVrI/AAAAAAAABSo/ZEkF2bEB1MI/s1600/chickencorner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Auufo7gJRb4/UjoPuJjXVrI/AAAAAAAABSo/ZEkF2bEB1MI/s1600/chickencorner.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our <a href="http://instagram.com/elizabusiness" target="_blank">street corner</a> (before the rains) in Kigali </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;">Petrichor is on my mind and in the air so much lately, here in Kigali. When we arrived it was so dry and dusty that the insides of my nostrils, when I tried to blow them clean at night, would be sometimes clogged with the same red dirt from the roads. Now the rainy season is beginning, and the wet fresh smell rising from all those stones and clay after rain is one of the very best things about being here. If you've gotten an e-mail from me lately, it's likely contained a lament about how much I'll miss fall, </span><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/search/label/seasons" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;" target="_blank">my favorite season</a><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;">, all those smoky, caramelly, woolly, crunchy-leaf smells. Petrichor may prove to be my consolation. Though it's not salty, it has the same calming effect as sea air I've smelled and loved in New England and the Pacific Northwest. Everything in the air here changes after these heavy rains--the light, the weight, the sounds. Things turn dark green and then golden and the smell is close to chlorinated, but with none of the burn. I will long for autumn as I’ve always known it, but feel lucky for the chance to fall in love with this new (to me) season’s smell also, all that wet clean rock, all that dark rushing road. </span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-14121741207919862682013-09-18T15:40:00.001-04:002013-09-18T15:40:21.202-04:00twitter sniffer no. 4Everybody wants to know just exactly how good Oprah smells. Can it be true that she doesn't wear scents?<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
"This is a thing you must know: I don't wear scents. I just bathe." --<a href="https://twitter.com/Oprah">@Oprah</a> just now why does everything on my body hurt am i exploding<br />
— Julie Klausner (@julieklausner) <a href="https://twitter.com/julieklausner/statuses/368213212551856128">August 16, 2013</a></blockquote>
<script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>
<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
not ready to take sides but planetariums smell a lot better than aquariums<br />
— Mallory Ortberg (@mallelis) <a href="https://twitter.com/mallelis/statuses/367450334160887808">August 14, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
"I love the smell of Irish Spring soap....[but] I might as well just say it—you cannot use it on your vagina." <a href="http://t.co/zd9DMB82Oq">http://t.co/zd9DMB82Oq</a><br />
— Into The Gloss (@IntoTheGloss) <a href="https://twitter.com/IntoTheGloss/statuses/366988117967769601">August 12, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
"This body was fresh, only about two hours old, and it hadn’t started to smell yet." Patrolling the border in Arizona <a href="http://t.co/5WNoxB4rED">http://t.co/5WNoxB4rED</a><br />
— Guernica Magazine (@GuernicaMag) <a href="https://twitter.com/GuernicaMag/statuses/365563522828083200">August 8, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
<a href="https://twitter.com/kittaveli">@kittaveli</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/anamanaguchi">@anamanaguchi</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/leiaj">@leiaj</a> my brother and i literally dubbed our happiest moments to be 'as good as the smell of theme park water'<br />
— ‡ Will Wiesenfeld ‡ (@BATHSmusic) <a href="https://twitter.com/BATHSmusic/statuses/365545345918320640">August 8, 2013</a></blockquote>
<script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>
<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
I smell like someone who should be in better shape.<br />
— Mike Birbiglia (@birbigs) <a href="https://twitter.com/birbigs/statuses/365315230970036225">August 8, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
Best subway eavesdropping: 2 guys who work in upper management for the Yankees trying to solve the very real issue of away game bus smell.<br />
— Rachel Syme (@rachsyme) <a href="https://twitter.com/rachsyme/statuses/363404604073324544">August 2, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<br />
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
I can smell fall in the air. Time to take out my tartan tams and tap some tinctured talc into them.<br />
— Paula Pell (@perlapell) <a href="https://twitter.com/perlapell/statuses/368353032041684993">August 16, 2013</a></blockquote>
I'm going to miss that fall-in-the-air smell so much this year!<br />
<script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-81532429197929342292013-08-16T08:34:00.000-04:002013-08-16T10:48:50.718-04:00sun's up smells <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AsRhJ5TvWhg/Ug4bfZtgrfI/AAAAAAAABR8/jjNVnKyAYQ8/s1600/sunrisekigali.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AsRhJ5TvWhg/Ug4bfZtgrfI/AAAAAAAABR8/jjNVnKyAYQ8/s640/sunrisekigali.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rwanda is making an early bird of me. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">Mwaramutse neza from Kigali! The best things I've smelled here so far (besides my beloved <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/09/tree-tomato.html" target="_blank">tree tomato</a>) include: herbs from the garden in our yard (basil, lemon dill, and cilantro), still-steaming rosemary rolls and sweet carrot bread made by my bread-baking marvel of a housemate, and the dirt roads after it rained.
Here are some smells I've enjoyed reading about:</span><br />
<ul><span style="color: #444444;">
</span>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><a href="http://nl.reddit.com/r/tabled/comments/1kb7fp/table_i_am_aaron_paul_ama/" target="_blank">Aaron Paul</a> on his <i>Breaking Bad</i>
co-star, Bryan Cranston's, smell:</span> "<span style="color: #351c75;">To be honest, he smells like a freshly bathed unicorn on a summer day in Barcelona</span>." </li>
<li><span style="color: #444444;">My friend Stephanie Santana's</span> <a href="http://africainwords.com/2013/08/12/from-the-african-booker-to-the-booker-noviolet-bulawayos-we-need-new-names/" target="_blank">excellent close reading of</a><i><a href="http://africainwords.com/2013/08/12/from-the-african-booker-to-the-booker-noviolet-bulawayos-we-need-new-names/" target="_blank"> We Need New Names</a>: </i><blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75;"><i>NoViolet Bulawayo’s debut novel </i>We Need New Names <i>ends its first
and last chapters with the same sensory detail: the
alternately ‘dizzying’ and ‘delicious’ smell of Lobels bread. It is a
smell that wafts through otherwise macabre scenes. In the first, a woman
hangs dead in a tree and the smell is only imagined, as Darling (our
narrator) and her young friends anticipate with delirious joy the bread
they will buy by selling the dead woman’s shoes. In the last, it is a
real, overwhelmingly delicious smell that accompanies the death of
something that the children were looking for and wanted desperately to
find. In the simple smell of fresh-baked bread we find joy, hope, death,
desire. </i></span> </blockquote>
</li>
<li><span style="color: #444444;">I've been meaning to write something about the farts and hearts of <i>Here Comes Honey Boo Boo</i>, but <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/television/2013/07/season_2_of_here_comes_honey_boo_boo_reviewed.html" target="_blank">Willa Paskin said it all on <i>Slate</i></a>: </span><span style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span><blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75;">Here Comes Honey Boo Boo</span><i><span style="color: #351c75;">, TLC’s divisive
reality hit about the antics of an energetic, self-identified redneck
family, begins its second season on Wednesday night. To celebrate the
show’s return, TLC has <a href="http://www.fastcocreate.com/1683258/honey-boo-boo-ep-howard-lee-explains-the-shows-watch-n-sniff-premiere" target="_blank">wedged scratch-and-sniff cards into issues of <i>People</i> and <i>Us Weekly</i></a>,
and will prompt viewers to use them during the show’s premiere,
possibly scratching to sniff bad breath, fish, rotten milk, a baby
diaper, a fart, or maybe something more pleasantly aromatic—cheese
puffs? The scratch-and-sniff is a goof that sounds about as enjoyable as
eating the snot-flavored jelly beans from <i>Harry Potter</i>, but it
effectively establishes just how the producers want us to feel about
7-year-old Honey Boo Boo and her family: that they are totally fun and
totally gross. I’m with them on the former, but it’s the producers who
are gross. </span><span style="color: #444444;"><b><i></i></b></span></i></blockquote>
</li>
</ul>
<ul><span style="color: #444444;">
</span>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"> Charles Baxter, <a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2013/08/07/charles-baxter-how-i-write.html" target="_blank">on his writing routine</a>, in the Daily Beast: </span><blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #351c75;"><i>I work during the morning. I pace; I stare out the window. I sit with my
head in my hands. If I can feel myself breaking out into a sweat,
particularly from my underarms, and if I give off a noticeable body odor
that even I can smell, I know the writing is going well. </i></span></blockquote>
</li>
</ul>
nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-8747293110906367842013-07-22T19:14:00.000-04:002013-07-22T20:06:49.107-04:00nosy in (& about) rwanda <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PezUpTJHi4o/Ue24h_YQPeI/AAAAAAAABRo/zy7wmzsKYs0/s1600/lbkigali.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PezUpTJHi4o/Ue24h_YQPeI/AAAAAAAABRo/zy7wmzsKYs0/s640/lbkigali.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kigali as seen from St. Paul's </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">Nosy friends! Two weeks from now, I'll be back in Rwanda. I'm headed there for ten months this time, and I imagine my already erratic schedule for posting<a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/search/label/nosyinterviews?max-results=9" target="_blank"> Nosy Interviews </a>will grow even more so. But I'm eager to gather new Nosy Interviews while in Rwanda, and excited to say I'll be <a href="http://artandolfaction.com/residencies/elizabeth-staudt/" target="_blank">collaborating</a> with the way-cool<a href="http://artandolfaction.com/" target="_blank"> Institute for Art and Olfaction</a> to showcase the responses I collect in a meaningful way. </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sERZmQLK2no/Ue2p9yufkLI/AAAAAAAABQ8/YRQ-zTWDW_A/s1600/75305_283049555151356_159466529_n.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sERZmQLK2no/Ue2p9yufkLI/AAAAAAAABQ8/YRQ-zTWDW_A/s640/75305_283049555151356_159466529_n.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So much fun, fragrant, & innovative work is happening at <a href="http://artandolfaction.com/" target="_blank">T</a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" target="_blank">he Institute for Art and Olfaction</a>. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">My fondest smell memories of my last visit to Rwanda include the smoky green tomato leaf scent I wrote about <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/09/tree-tomato.html" target="_blank">here</a>; the damp, resinous air on our hike to see the mountain gorillas, who were feasting on huge strips of eucalyptus tree bark; and the steaming veggie roundels served at <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g293829-d1718878-Reviews-Zaaffran-Kigali_Kigali_Province.html" target="_blank">Zaaffran.</a> My least favorite smell memory is of the intense automobile exhaust in Kigali. Another strong smell memory that defies such categorization is that of the bodies preserved in lime at the<a href="http://www.kigalimemorialcentre.org/old/centre/other/murambi.html" target="_blank"> Murambi Genocide Memorial Centre</a>. That is a smell I will never forget, but should I mention it? Is it wrong to describe what it was like to stand in those rooms, windows wide open to the hills surrounding us, a song carried in on the slow breeze from the church on a neighboring mountain? What can I say? For the same reason it feels wrong to post a photograph, devoid of context, it feels wrong to say this one thing, what the rooms smelled like, and nothing else.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_DquZpsW7l0/Ue2qFqEqFFI/AAAAAAAABRE/UK16tiah8RM/s1600/6104703882_62b9434a1a_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_DquZpsW7l0/Ue2qFqEqFFI/AAAAAAAABRE/UK16tiah8RM/s640/6104703882_62b9434a1a_b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On our way to Volcanoes National Park to see the mountain gorillas </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">But it feels wrong to leave it out, too, to write only about how
much I loved the tree tomatoes, how even the gorilla's shit smelled
pretty good (all that eucalyptus) and not say also that there was
a smell in those terrible rooms, and I stood there inhaling it, trying
not to think about what it meant. It feels somehow depraved to speak of certain things in smell terms, but I don't think that's because it's disrespectful. Maybe a smell detail gives too much life to the things we wish to distance ourselves from: wounds, rot, death. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">Here's a Kinyarwanda (the language of Rwanda) word I learned (from my anthropologist husband, whose PhD fieldwork is driving our trip) today: </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b><i>guhumura</i></b></span>:<i><b> </b></i><span style="color: #351c75;">to smell good, to stay calm, to be consoled or comforted, to not be afraid </span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">If a word can be a talisman for travel, for this project, I can't think of a better one. I hope to smell good, to smell deeply and well (even when my nose resists). I hope to stay calm in the face of challenges that arise from living outside of my comfort zone, like when I inevitably and inadvertently look/act a fool in my attempts to connect, and to not let fear--of seeming foolish, of being sad or uncomfortable, of threats real or imagined--keep me from staying open, asking questions, and sharing what I can with the people I meet, and with you. </span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-15543902009808259002013-07-16T10:40:00.000-04:002013-07-16T10:40:16.776-04:00nosy recommends: natural deodorants (revisited) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zd4TNLgjZ9s/UeTPNfjf6jI/AAAAAAAABQs/1GKw8nIJ-bU/s1600/nosynaturaldeodorants2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="479" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zd4TNLgjZ9s/UeTPNfjf6jI/AAAAAAAABQs/1GKw8nIJ-bU/s640/nosynaturaldeodorants2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #444444;">I've previously expressed my devotion to the great-smelling, natural deodorant powerhouse <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/04/nosy-recommends-soapwalla-deodorant.html" target="_blank">Soapwalla</a>. But after a while, it began to irritate my skin. What's a girl living in mega-muggy weather who prefers all-natural deodorant to do? Stay inside, stink, or rely on a few other favorites: </span><br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://www.aubrey-organics.com/ProductInfo/082.aspx" target="_blank">E Plus High C Roll-On Deodorant, Aubrey Organics</a></b><br />
<span style="color: #444444;">This deodorant caught my eye as it had the "Customer Favorite" designation at<a href="http://www.cambridgenaturals.com/" target="_blank"> Cambridge Naturals</a>, a local store that attracts its fair share of natural deodorant seekers. I like the smell so much that I will defend the hyperbolic language on the packaging: "Like the musical notes in a fine symphony, the herbal essential oils and natural vitamins harmonize in Aubrey's E Plus High C Roll-On." It is a harmonious smell! Whenever I catch a whiff of it, I find myself wondering what smells so good, as the fragrance remains slightly unfamiliar and changeable to me, even after near daily use for the last two months. It smells a little bit like an Aveda salon, mixed with the freshest section of the natural foods/crystal store, with floral and citrus notes that tread very lightly, and smell as cool as the roller ball feels. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.lavanila.com/Deodorant-_c_57.html" target="_blank"><b>The Healthy Deodorant, Lavanila </b></a><br />
<span style="color: #444444;">This was my favorite deodorant before discovering Soapwalla, and it's back near the top of the heap these days. Both the Pure Vanilla and the Vanilla Coconut (my preferred flavors) have this minty, paste-like note that I find so satisfying. The worst thing about this deodorant is its product to packaging ratio feels like its 40:1, and a bunch goes to waste because of the poor design--extra-irritating when you are paying $14 for a stick of the stuff. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://store.drhauschka.com/b2c/ecom/ecomEnduser/items/xt_itemDetailNF.aspx?siteId=1&itemNum=DEOFR" target="_blank"><b>Deodorant Fresh, Dr. Hauschka</b></a><br />
<span style="color: #444444;">If you thought paying $14 for a stick of deodorant was nuts, steer clear of Dr. Hauschka's Deodorant Fresh Roll-On, which sometimes runs double that (though I've found it for $20). My friend <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/09/nosy-interview-jenny-di-meo.html" target="_blank">Jenny</a> was teasing me recently about my $40 deodorant habit, and in defending myself against what seemed like an absurd accusation, I failed to realize how close to the bone she was cutting! Looking at this lineup, it would appear my pits are prized skin real-estate. Dr. Hauschka's Fresh Deodorant, in its heavy, frosted glass bottle, does have a luxurious feel to match its price, and it smells very good and blue-green, with a faintly woody barber shop vibe that I think will be especially appreciated by those taking tentative first steps into the land of natural deodorants. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://usa.weleda.com/our-products/shop/citrus-deodorant.aspx" target="_blank"><b>Weleda Citrus Deodorant </b></a><br />
<span style="color: #444444;">I find this spray deodorant intermittently effective, and sometimes a bit too bracing (it's like Listerine for the armpits). Perhaps the key to success with natural deodorants is to keep switching them up. Even though it seems I've had my bottle of this forever, I like having it in the mix. I was disappointed, though, to dislike the rose in this deodorant line, especially since most of Weleda's <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2013/01/nosy-recommends-weleda-wild-rose.html" target="_blank">rose body products</a> are so pleasing to my nose. </span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #351c75;">If you have other natural deodorant favorites, I am clearly all ears and eager armpits. Tell me about them! </span></i><br />
<br />nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-79965916184610166942013-07-02T18:28:00.000-04:002013-07-02T18:28:57.286-04:00Nosy Interview: Marc Mazique<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tNqnBRqy2Kg/UdNTTs-qJCI/AAAAAAAABQU/ZJZ5ZuEyEeg/s650/marc_arp142_hubble_960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tNqnBRqy2Kg/UdNTTs-qJCI/AAAAAAAABQU/ZJZ5ZuEyEeg/s640/marc_arp142_hubble_960.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444;">Marc in the Porpoise Galaxy from Hubble, © NASA, ESA, and the Hubble Heritage Team </span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #351c75;">Marc and I were in a writing group together, in Seattle, along with <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/09/nosy-interview-elizabeth-mathews.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth</a>, <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/09/nosy-interview-cienna-madrid.html" target="_blank">Cienna</a>, and <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/01/nosy-interview-steven-arnston.html" target="_blank">Steven</a>. </span><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="color: #351c75;">We met mainly at the Stumbling Monk, which I recall smelling of cement and wood and beer-wet napkin. I loved that place! </span>You can help Marc's rad & radical musical group, <a href="http://movitas.org/" target="_blank">Movitas Marching Band</a>, make it to BAM! (Bands Agitate and Mobilize!) by donating <a href="http://www.gofundme.com/2qkbfs?utm_campaign=Emails&utm_source=sendgrid.com&utm_medium=email" target="_blank">here</a>. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>What do you smell like? </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;">I smell like peanut sauce mixed with old books with yellowed pages. <b> </b></span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: #351c75;">What do you like to smell? </span></b><span style="color: #444444;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;">I like to smell peanut sauce mixed with old or new books, along with lavender. </span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-48921094819305782252013-06-18T16:47:00.003-04:002013-06-18T16:47:53.138-04:00summertime pleasures <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8ecDTpPBHPs/UcDFrrBJRwI/AAAAAAAABQE/eNE_HcWaMxA/s1600/peonieseas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8ecDTpPBHPs/UcDFrrBJRwI/AAAAAAAABQE/eNE_HcWaMxA/s640/peonieseas.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smelling peonies at any opportunity is also recommended.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #351c75;">Nosy Interviewees are an inspiringly productive bunch! If you liked their interviews, here are some new ways you can enjoy their work: </span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><b><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/05/nosy-interview-rebecca-hoogs.html" target="_blank">Rebecca Hoogs</a>'s first full-length book of poems, <a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9781622880157" target="_blank"><i>Self-Storage</i></a>, was published in April! </b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><b>The paperback of <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/10/nosy-interview-natalie-bakopoulos.html" target="_blank">Natalie Bakopoulos</a>'s novel, <i><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9781451633948" target="_blank">The Green Shore</a>, </i>comes out today! </b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><b><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/09/nosy-interview-wilson-diehl.html" target="_blank">Wilson Diehl</a>'s essay, "<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/28/fashion/yes-i-really-am-bisexual-deal-with-it.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0" target="_blank">Yes, I Really Am Bisexual. Deal With It.</a>", appeared in the <i>New York Times</i>!</b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><b><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/search?q=julie+klausner" target="_blank">Julie Klausner</a>'s new YA novel, <i><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780316243629?aff=" target="_blank">Art Girls Are Easy</a>, </i>is out now! </b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><b>The paperback of <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/12/nosy-interview-alyssa-harad.html" target="_blank">Alyssa Harad</a>'s memoir, <i><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780143123385" target="_blank">Coming to My Senses</a>, </i>will be published one week from today! </b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><b><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2011/07/nosy-interview-kate-lebo.html" target="_blank">Kate Lebo</a> released a new zine, <i>The Pie Lady's Manifesto, </i>and it's available <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/154254655/the-pie-ladys-manifesto?ref=pr_shop" target="_blank">here</a>! </b></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #444444;"><b><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/01/nosy-interview-emily-gould.html" target="_blank">Emily Gould</a> was a recent guest on Other People with Brad Listi. <a href="http://otherpeoplepod.com/archives/2152" target="_blank">Listen</a>! </b></span></li>
</ul>
<span style="color: #351c75;">Wow! So much summertime entertainment for your nosy brains. Congratulations and a (virtual) bouquet as enormous as the one pictured above (scenting up my parents' whole house last week) to each of you listed here. If you're a Nosy Interviewee with some good news, <a href="mailto:thenosygirl@gmail.com" target="_blank">let me know</a>! </span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-27347968254162832842013-06-11T10:49:00.000-04:002013-06-11T15:56:02.972-04:00Nosy Interview: D.S. & Durga (David Moltz and Kavi Ahuja) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VjvvWZVx-6E/UbeAa_ixCZI/AAAAAAAABPw/0VSoYexhoS0/s1600/ds_durga_lmc_mellinger_960_v2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VjvvWZVx-6E/UbeAa_ixCZI/AAAAAAAABPw/0VSoYexhoS0/s640/ds_durga_lmc_mellinger_960_v2.jpg" width="386" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;">Kavi & David in The Large Magellanic Cloud in Ultraviolet , © NASA, Swift, et al. </span> </div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;">Regular readers will know <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/search/label/ds%20and%20durga" target="_blank">I'm an ardent fan</a> of <b><a href="http://www.dsanddurga.com/" target="_blank">D.S. & Durga</a></b> (a.k.a. <a href="http://nymag.com/homedesign/features/ds-durga-2012-3/" target="_blank">David Seth Moltz and Kavi Ahuja</a>), a perfume line whose storytelling I appreciate and whose scents I adore. East MidEast and Sir are my enduring favorites (When I learned that the former was being discontinued, I enlisted understanding friends around the country to scour their local Anthropologie stores for the precious remaining vials), but I'm eager to learn whether either will be unseated by one of the dreamy-seeming new offerings in their <a href="http://www.dsanddurga.com/hylnds/shop/" target="_blank">HYLNDS</a> series. I'm delighted to share interviews from both D.S. (David) and Durga (Kavi) here. </span><br />
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<i>D.S.'s responses: </i><br />
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>What do you smell like? </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Usually a combination of 4 different trials - 2 on each arm. Sometimes three. Thus, it varies! If I'm going out at night, I wear our "SIR" - a rich rose/jasmine chypre. Sunny weekend days, I like cologne water (one I made, but not released). I like to wear pure sandalwood oil from Mysore.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>What do you like to smell? </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Almost everything. There <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">is something interesting to smell in most aromas...I like to pick apart what I am smelling. I love the smell of good tea: most of the high grade chinese "red" (black) teas, tung ting jade Oolong from Taiwan, Gyokuro from Japan, first flush Darjeeling from Margret's Hope plantation. I love the smell of Glenlivet 18. The smell of my home town in New England--ocean and forest combined. The beach roses that grow on Phillips Beach in the summer. The "bacon" smell my cat used to have when he would cold inside after being outside in the cold winter night. Clover. Good patchouli. Leather. Mandarin. My 2 month old daughter's pure breath. Hibawood. Wild olibanum (frankincense) from Oman or Kenya. Motorboat exhaust over the water in the summer. Hyssop. Ground Ivy. (those two very similar). Orange blossoms on the Cote d'Azure. Eastern Hemlock Spruce. Haitian Vetyver. Bonfires. Tobacco. Motia (jasmine sambac). Any white flower in the real world. Most any flower. Lilacs! Lilies obv. English Roses. Endless.</span></span></span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia,serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<i>Durga's responses: </i><br />
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>What do you smell like? </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;">Whatever D.S. has last created and we are testing out.</span><br />
<b> </b><br />
<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>What do you like to smell? </b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;">All sorts of things. Fresh lilies, tuberose, cut grass, peaty scotch, bread baking, the beach. </span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-31830334699831842842013-05-24T14:04:00.000-04:002013-05-24T14:04:06.300-04:00twitter sniffer no.3A few fragrant tweets for your Friday enjoyment: <br />
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I'm putting lemon drops on my knees to make it easier to put my clothes on and also to give them that nice smell of sour knee.<br />
— Rumika Noémie Whelan (@RumikaNoemie) <a href="https://twitter.com/RumikaNoemie/status/333695509460041728">May 12, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
Certain far corridors of LGA airport may in fact be time machines. Only full-fat milk, smell of cigarettes... where's my sexy stewardess?<br />
— Megan Abbott (@meganeabbott) <a href="https://twitter.com/meganeabbott/status/332833657289064448">May 10, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
Smells like cherry candy, babe, at Bowery and Bond.<br />
— SarahNicolePrickett (@snpsnpsnp) <a href="https://twitter.com/snpsnpsnp/status/334857298092634112">May 16, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
My kid told me I smell like cheese doodles. Even though we both love cheese doodles, I'm taking this as insult and/or constructive criticism<br />
— Dagmara Dominczyk (@DagDom17) <a href="https://twitter.com/DagDom17/status/334824618739245056">May 16, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
hi friends, I'm Ken Jennings from Jeopardy. I know lots of things, but there's 1 thing I don't know: how weird my own house probably smells<br />
— Ken Jennings (@KenJennings) <a href="https://twitter.com/KenJennings/status/332256366733434884">May 8, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
Japanese co. offers smell plug-in for iPhone. Sound familiar? Yeah me too. <a href="http://t.co/qztiQ1zJvV" title="http://tiny.cc/2qz1ww">tiny.cc/2qz1ww</a> Hardware in search of an application.<br />
— Avery Gilbert (@scienceofscent) <a href="https://twitter.com/scienceofscent/status/334141124505657344">May 14, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
I'm alone and fairly sad but I smell terrific.<br />
— Patrick Walsh (@thepatrickwalsh) <a href="https://twitter.com/thepatrickwalsh/status/327664287453691905">April 26, 2013</a></blockquote>
<script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-14905624090597887372013-05-21T12:07:00.000-04:002013-05-21T12:07:15.936-04:00Nosy Interview: Victoria Frolova <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TJ0O69iQli4/UZppCcBNhUI/AAAAAAAABPQ/T6aRsLGTw_g/s1600/victoria_blueberrysun_friedman_960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="502" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TJ0O69iQli4/UZppCcBNhUI/AAAAAAAABPQ/T6aRsLGTw_g/s640/victoria_blueberrysun_friedman_960.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Victoria (whose blotters from the original photo were burned up by the sun) in Blue Sun Bursting, © Alan Friedman (Averted Imagination) </span></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://boisdejasmin.com/about" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"></span></span></span></a><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://boisdejasmin.com/about" target="_blank">Victoria</a> has <a href="http://boisdejasmin.com/perfume-notes-index/" target="_blank">taught me so much</a> about fragrance that I should probably pay her some kind of tuition. Instead I asked her for still <i>more </i>of her insights in the form of a nosy interview, and, lucky for all of us, she obliged. <a href="http://boisdejasmin.com/" target="_blank">Bois de Jasmin</a>, Victoria's wonderful blog about "perfume and other fragrant pleasures," is an absolutely essential resource for anyone interested in perfume. I have so much faith in her taste and expertise that I should probably also <i>warn </i>you about her blog, as regular reading may lead to a serious uptick in your perfume cravings.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>What do you smell like?</b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;">Cacophony! Since I work with perfume and research raw materials, by the end of the day I smell like a mixture of things, often strange ones. If the project involves gourmands, I come home smelling like a cotton candy factory. If I’m working with aldehydes, I smell of snuffed out candles and dirty hair. I suppose, if you still love perfume after this kind of experience, you’re either very passionate or crazy. Or both!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;">Off-duty, I smell of whatever perfume I’m infatuated with at the moment. I also like to spend at least one day smelling of nothing to give my nose a rest. Plus, in the spring, there are so many great scents in the air that you don’t even need to perfume your skin. On the weekend if the weather is nice (and this is not a given in Belgium), I’m usually outdoors soaking up the sunshine and the fragrance of magnolias.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>What do you like to smell? </b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;">Anything at all! My husband is used to it, but whenever I go for walks with my friends, they’re often surprised that I pick up various leaves and pieces of bark and smell them. And although they find it an eccentric habit, they always join in, because smelling is so enjoyable and we don’t do it consciously often enough. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;">If I’m to name my favorite things I love to smell, I risk boring you, since my list would be too long! But bread and jasmine are among my absolute favorites. Whenever I walk past a bakery and notice the smell of freshly baked bread, I instantly feel happy. It’s such a comforting, cozy scent. At home we never baked bread, but my grandmother made a brioche-like Easter cake, and when she prepared it, the whole house smelled of yeast, nutmeg, vanilla, and rum soaked raisins. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;">Jasmine is another scent that makes me happy (hence, the blog name). It’s such a strange smell if you think of it—apricot jam, horse sweat, white petals, but it’s incredibly sultry. On another level, it reminds me of my childhood summers. Since my family is scattered all over the world, I miss them very much. Thinking about the time we spent together and recreating some of it through scents and tastes is how I approach my nostalgia.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #444444;">I also love catching a whiff of perfume on people around me. It doesn’t matter what fragrance they are wearing, even if it’s something I don’t like on myself, it’s always a pleasure to notice what others are sporting and what they pick for different occasions.</span></span></span></div>
nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-46167818815626740382013-05-20T12:54:00.002-04:002013-05-20T17:09:04.672-04:00smelling of nothing & pretending to be someone else <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aKBJPJqp_04/UZpQns3o-1I/AAAAAAAABPE/TK5rZToS5dg/s1600/PrincetonNJ60s_1000-700x443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="404" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aKBJPJqp_04/UZpQns3o-1I/AAAAAAAABPE/TK5rZToS5dg/s640/PrincetonNJ60s_1000-700x443.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Princeton, New Jersey, 1960s" [<a href="http://blog.hemmings.com/index.php/2011/09/19/princeton-new-jersey-1960s/" target="_blank">via</a>]</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="color: #444444;">I've been anxious to read Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's <i><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780307271082" target="_blank">Americanah</a> </i>since I heard her give a fantastic reading from the novel-in-progress last year at the Radcliffe Institute, long before I laid eyes on the book's beautiful opening paragraph: </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="color: #351c75;">Princeton, in the summer, smelled of nothing, and although Ifemelu liked the tranquil greenness of the many trees, the clean streets and stately homes, the delicately overpriced shops, and the quiet, abiding air of earned grace, it was this, the lack of a smell, that most appealed to her, perhaps because the other American cities she knew well had all smelled distinctly. Philadelphia had the musty scent of history, New Haven smelled of neglect. Baltimore smelled of brine, and Brooklyn of sun-warmed garbage. But Princeton had no smell. She liked taking deep breaths here. She liked watching the locals who drove with pointed courtesy and parked their latest-model cars outside the organic grocery store on Nassau street or outside the sushi restaurants or outside the ice cream shop that had fifty different flavors including red pepper or outside the post office where effusive staff bounded out to greet them at the entrance. She liked the campus, grave with knowledge, the Gothic buildings with their vine-laced walls, and the way everything transformed, in the half-light of night, into a ghostly scene. She liked, most of all, that in this place of affluent ease, she could pretend to be someone else, someone specially admitted into a hallowed American club, someone adorned with certainty. </span></b></blockquote>
<span style="color: #444444;">Adichie is back in town this week, reading from the recently released<i> Americanah </i>on <a href="http://www.harvard.com/event/chimamanda_ngozi_adichie/" target="_blank">Wednesday at 7 p.m. at the Harvard Book Store.</a> Local readers, I hope to see/smell some of you there! </span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-18143070181240673652013-05-14T10:43:00.001-04:002013-05-16T14:10:30.271-04:00Nosy Interview: Gina Balibrera<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y8xgXxIqWaQ/UZGhO9vysSI/AAAAAAAABOw/_WinUIQXmH4/s1600/gina_horseheadir_hubble_960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="510" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y8xgXxIqWaQ/UZGhO9vysSI/AAAAAAAABOw/_WinUIQXmH4/s640/gina_horseheadir_hubble_960.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="color: #444444;">Gina in The Horsehead Nebula in Infrared from Hubble, © NASA, ESA, and the Hubble Heritage Team </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;">Gina and I have not yet met, but she left a lovely, smell-related comment on a link to <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2013/04/nosy-interview-vv-ganeshananthan.html" target="_blank">V</a><a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2013/04/nosy-interview-vv-ganeshananthan.html" target="_blank">.V. Ganeshananthan's interview</a> and, when I immediately pounced, asking if she'd be willing to write more on fragrant matters, she was gracious enough to accept. (Readers, please remember that I welcome your <a href="http://www.nosygirl.net/2012/03/nosy-interview-your-nominations.html" target="_blank">nominations for potential nosy interviewees!</a>) Gina is currently at work on<i> The Volcano-Daughters, </i>a novel set in El Salvador, Hollywood, and France, during the 1930s and 1940s. While you wait, you can read <a href="http://www.michiganquarterlyreview.com/author/gina-balibrera/" target="_blank">more of her nonfiction</a> on the <i>Michigan Quarterly Review</i> blog. </span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #351c75;">What do you smell like? </span></b><br />
<span style="color: #444444;">I consulted <span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">several close friends to answer this question, and the consensus was nearly unanimous: rose. (My sweetheart, however, said that I smell “nice,” and “like the best.” Outlier). This rosy ruling flattered by vanity. My efforts have been rewarded! I tend to spray myself several times a day with a neon-pink plastic bottle of rosewater that can be found in many health food stores. The mysterious text on the bottle’s label reads: “Recommended in the Edgar Cayce Readings” and “Vor-mag Water (water that has been vortexed and magnetized to raise the energy to a higher vibration that we believe to be more beneficial).” Beneficial for what purpose, I am not sure. But I do find it refreshing, and I am fond of its reviving, rosy scent. I use this magic water in lieu of hairspray, and, often, in lieu of smelling salts. I use a German rose oil in a green glass bottle on my body instead of lotion, and I like rosehip oil on my lips. In a pharmacy in Geneva, I bought two cheap, tiny vials of perfume oil, which I like to dab on my wrists and neck after the shower: one is amber, the other vanilla. I love that amber in a glass bottle looks exactly as it should, honeyed and luminous, and smells just like the color of the veined golden stone. There are no cheap and luminous vials of perfume oil in the pharmacies of Ann Arbor, Michigan, where I now live. A dear poet friend of mine, Gala Mukomolova, who smells like sweet milk, told me that in addition to roses, I smell of baking bread. Perhaps this is also true. In the grocery store’s personal care aisle, I like to pick up those expensive handmade bars of soap and hold them to my nose--I usually go home with almond or bee pollen or camomile or red clay with rose, or sometimes, more rarely, cucumber. My very favorite soap is made of sandalwood, but I’ll get to that in the next question. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><b>What do you like to smell? </b></span><br /><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I love </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span></span></span></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">smelling cardamom and real vanilla, good gin that is particularly rosy, honey, honey, honey, Mysore sandalwood soap that comes in a red cardboard box with pink roses and a tiny elephant, amber oil in the glass bottle, violets, the Redwood forest, the sunwarmed calico head of my favorite cat, Olive, olive oil, truffle oil, creosote, a Sonoran desert plant that smells just like summer monsoons, and fresh rosemary. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Leather guitar cases (and the shiny wood and inner felt and nylon strings of a classical guitar), a special tea made from bergamot oil and sage. Library books, of course, who doesn’t? </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Especially in the spring and summer, I love the scent of a golden hour picnic on a wooden porch: rosé, cantaloupe, strawberries. Also, lavender, champagne, fistfuls of mint, purple thai basil, lemongrass, cherries, and ruby-red grapefruits sliced in half. I am pleased that my plan to smell like roses has succeeded in the noses of my friends, because I like the smell of large, velvety roses in surprising colors--violet-streaked, magenta, and cream--best. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></b></span><span style="color: #444444;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-403dc39f-a0d5-98d5-0696-3e5cfb4a62dd" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></b></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I like the smell of a new broom, which I suppose is just straw. My friend, fiction writer, Jide Adebayo-Begun, told me about a Hausa idiom which means the knot at the center of the straw broom, typically referring to a deep and lasting bond of friendship or love between people. There’s also the tinny, winterfresh smell of cheap men's shaving cream, but only on the skin of my sweetheart. A few years ago, I gave him one of those fancy-hippie shaving kits that smells of cedar and pine and the earthiness of some sort of real hair that was collected to make the brush. He didn’t really use it, and his beard smells sometimes like Walgreens shaving cream, when it is neat, and like a dense human forest--rosewood, clean wool sweaters, and river stones--when it is tufty. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span></b><b id="docs-internal-guid-403dc39f-a0d5-98d5-0696-3e5cfb4a62dd" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span></b></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In childhood, I was fond of a particular marker, a bright, Lisa Frank turquoise, that smelled precisely as that color should, like the Pacific Ocean, juicyfruit gum, and strawberry lipgloss, but was named, curiously, “mango.” Another strange dissonance: as a kid, I used to walk up a hill to eat ice cream, past an auto body shop with oily rainbows on the sidewalk. Then and now, the smell of diesel exhaust makes me crave ice cream, usually cherry.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span></b><b id="docs-internal-guid-403dc39f-a0d5-98d5-0696-3e5cfb4a62dd" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></b></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><b id="docs-internal-guid-403dc39f-a0d5-98d5-0696-3e5cfb4a62dd" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span></b></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I was a bad teen, I would go to bonfires on Ocean or Baker Beach, and return home smelling exactly like a Honeybaked Ham. What did you do tonight? My parents would ask. Nothing, I would say. Once or twice I smoked those clove cigarettes, to which many sensitive, melancholy teenagers find themselves drawn for a quick moment of cliché, and which are terrible, but which attempt to smell, via crude, poisonous, chemical shorthand, mystical and leathery and like a good autumn cake. These days, when my nose desires such fiery warmth, I prefer the scent of lapsung souchang tea, which is campfire smoke and spice, or the scent of actual autumn cakes baked in my oven with real cloves and cinnamon and cardamom. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span></b><b id="docs-internal-guid-403dc39f-a0d5-98d5-0696-3e5cfb4a62dd" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span></b></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Two old chestnuts most everyone enjoys smelling: chestnuts roasting beneath beaten-up pans on chilly city street corners and hot coffee. Right now, I’m working on a novel in which coffee plays an important role. Coffee is magic and nose-magnetic in the cup, but in the fields of El Salvador, just after the harvest, the rotting berries smell truly terrible, in a bodily sense. I was on a train there a few years ago, and the ticket-collector arrived beside my seat, a gust of something truly foul blew in through the window, and for a moment I thought that the ticket-collector was ill. But that foul gust was the coffee outside, those soft, red berries. </span></span></span></b><b id="docs-internal-guid-403dc39f-a0d5-98d5-0696-3e5cfb4a62dd" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></b></b></span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-42244162102339428382013-05-09T16:02:00.000-04:002013-05-09T16:06:38.568-04:00twitter sniffer no.2<span style="color: #351c75;">One of these days I'll just get over it & give in to Twitter. In the meantime, I found a few more fragrant tweets you might enjoy:
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
My hair smells like pizza and my face smells like a gummie bear. <a href="https://twitter.com/search/%23ThePowerOfPositivePartying">#ThePowerOfPositivePartying</a><br />
— ANDREW WK (@AndrewWK) <a href="https://twitter.com/AndrewWK/status/331798231535214593">May 7, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
Bright. Chilly. Bare trees. Emerald grass. The warm brown scent of baking biscuits. Warm applesauce . Cinnamon sticks. Cream. Coffee.<br />
— ruthreichl (@ruthreichl) <a href="https://twitter.com/ruthreichl/status/327382865170014208">April 25, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
I love the smell of <a href="https://twitter.com/search/%23equalmarriage">#equalmarriage</a>.<br />
— maureenjohnson (@maureenjohnson) <a href="https://twitter.com/maureenjohnson/status/330081473061351424">May 2, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
Every once in awhile I get almost desperate about wanting to smell eucalyptus and then I realize I miss CA.<br />
— Thomas Page McBee (@ThomasPageMcBee) <a href="https://twitter.com/ThomasPageMcBee/status/330051111513882625">May 2, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
Smells like America. Yankee Candle made a "Boston Strong" scent & is donating profits to The One Fund. <a href="http://t.co/eOAXm8JzTB" title="http://bit.ly/ZR22yY">bit.ly/ZR22yY</a><br />
— Lisa DeCanio (@lisa_decanio) <a href="https://twitter.com/lisa_decanio/status/327451081502253056">April 25, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
Obsession: Lapham- The smell of smoke offends people but there are a lot of smells that can offend. <a href="https://twitter.com/search/%23PENFest13">#PENFest13</a><br />
— PENamerican (@PENamerican) <a href="https://twitter.com/PENamerican/status/329769281296416769">May 2, 2013</a></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet">
"I smell Wendy's yet there is no Wendy's nearby" - is that a good premise for a Twilight Zone<br />
— GENERAL GANDHI (@Bro_Pair) <a href="https://twitter.com/Bro_Pair/status/329715357944279041">May 1, 2013</a></blockquote>
<script async="" charset="utf-8" src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4586154096456239776.post-55577095602532216232013-05-07T10:42:00.000-04:002013-05-09T16:05:38.595-04:00Nosy Interview: Eli Hastings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-glG23uBaLNU/UYAXf-0-oJI/AAAAAAAABMo/K4JlOLpAcrs/s1600/elisunsolarstretched.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="436" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-glG23uBaLNU/UYAXf-0-oJI/AAAAAAAABMo/K4JlOLpAcrs/s640/elisunsolarstretched.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Eli in the (stretched) Sun with Solar Flare, © NASA Solar Dynamics Observatory </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span style="color: #351c75;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://elihastings.com/bio/" target="_blank">Eli</a> and I met in Seattle, where, through the <a href="http://www.lectures.org/wits/writers_n_schools.php" target="_blank">Writers in the Schools</a> program, I got to watch him work a kind of wake-up magic on formerly-groggy high school students. His latest book, a memoir called <i><a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9781770410770" target="_blank">Clearly Now, the Rain</a>, </i>was just released last week, and you can learn more about Eli, his writing, and his adorable "nutcase toddler" <a href="http://elihastings.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>What do you smell like? </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I smell like dried spray paint and midgrade aftershave lotion. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I think. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But I’ve never really checked, I just make that assumption because I have to shave everyday or I look weird and I spend a lot of time in my “garoffice”/mancave, which is heavily tagged—though with words of wisdom not the scrawled hubris of taggers (that was way earlier). <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Lately the scent of raw garlic is always on my fingers because my wife is a doctor and I am not and so I have had to learn to cook and garlic disguises the fact that I am, at best, learning. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>To be honest, I probably smell like old dog (that’s dog + dust and decay) because I am overcome with love for my 14-year-old golden and embrace her unreasonably at least a few times a day. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I probably smell slightly like pee in the mornings because I often have to sleep with my 3-year-old dervish. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>What do you like to smell? </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I like to smell many things that rather universally are inviting: fresh ground coffee brand spanking new azaleas and whatnot. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But I also enjoy scents that may be more subjectively pleasant: gasoline, fresh tarmac, wicked cheese. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>My favorite smell in the world comes in August in the north Cascades where my mom lives. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It’s an invasive plant of some kind that sprouts in spring and starts to dry on the vine as the sun slams away the weeks and is pungent and spicy by the end of summer and looks a lot like marijuana (I’m told), but is not. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I swear. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span>nosy girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15040713390210741660noreply@blogger.com5