Today was one of those days that started out blue and bright and brilliant. The morning was luscious with smells, the roses, the honeysuckle, the cut grass. When the mornings are humid like today, those juicy odors hang in the air like a heavy blanket and I become drunk on the smell. The phrase "Stop and smell the roses" becomes a mantra then and I try to slow myself down and breathe. I think it's really important to use all the senses and complete the daily picture. Coming from the NYC area, smell is important and inspiring. Unfortunately, in NYC, the smells are not as pleasant on a regular basis as they are in rural Estill County.
This time of the year, with luck, my rose vines at the end of the sidewalk have blooms. Some years I've only gotten one. This year, for whatever reason, I have over 16 blooms that keep opening, one after another. The blooms are, of course, pretty and rich in color but the fragrance! I wish the internet had the capability to capture the intensity of the perfume. So, without fail, as I walk to the studio, I stop and smell my roses and pause, breathing in as deeply as I can, close my eyes. It's so rich, I swear, it seems like you can eat and digest the perfume just by inhaling.
When I think of where inspiration comes from, the obvious, for those of us with sight, is often the things we see, with good reason since sight is a dominant sense. But whenever I stop and smell my roses, I cant help thinking that the overload in my brain from the rose perfume sets my wheels spinning.