I’m not much of an outdoorsy person nor much of a pet/animals person so spending time on an uncles farm as a kid had very clear boundaries of interest/tolerance to me. I was always happy to go see cousins but one of the main functions of the farm was the pig shed which to me had an aromatic ‘do not cross this line’ force-field around it which I neverevereverever could pass though. Even eating bacon (which I love) beyond a certain thickness has associative memories of steak-thick bacon at breakfast on the farm = pig shed smell/bacon origins, that I cannot cross to this day.
Continue reading “From Offence to Fragrance”From Offence to Fragrance
