The smell of roasting garlic is heavy in the air. I love roasted garlic. I squish it on fresh sourdough bread with lots of goat cheese. I make a meal of it, OK, I add a glass of wine. One glass is good for the digestion.
Smells are the memories that we keep with us forever. They are strong memories. The smell of a Christmas tree, the smell of a babies neck, a puppies breath, and of course food aromas. These create those little synapsis that fire each time we come across something that matches what we have already experienced.
I am firing those synapsis today. Memories of touch and taste and scent keep jumping in to my fore brain. I'm tingling with past experiences. These are good things to use when I write. I conjure up those strong memories and focus on them real hard, remembering every detail so that I can write about them with accuracy. I want my writing to be believable so by using the past I can create the future in my stories.
The timer is clicking down the last few seconds. When it goes off I can have my roasted garlic, and crusty sourdough bread and creamy goat cheese... oh yes, and my cool glass of Chardonnay. Hmmm, sounds good doesn't it?
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