Suddenly, in a brutally unexpected way, you travel at the precise moment when you were 10 years old and the mother opened the door to the terrace at 7 in the morning, in that cold Olot of December, just before coming to say “good morning bug Get up, it’s time to go to school ”. And suddenly you travel because somewhere where life has taken you, refreshes, and the smell of cold has exploded in your face and in a brutally unexpected way, you vividly revive those mornings of 2001.
The memory mechanisms are curious, of storing moments in a demandingly precise way, keeping exactly, above all, all the olfactory connections that root us in the most tender, saddest, warmest, most traumatic moments of our existence, in short; in all the sincere and significant space-times that we really do not want to forget.
All these unexpected journeys (to all these treasured moments) represents some of the most surprising expeditions where this memory awakening has led me through a smell. They are truly unexpected trips, they can happen at any time, without looking for them, without wanting them, of an overwhelming clarity, they can take you and return you to places you long for, to people you no longer even remember their voice, to moments that you have not even relived in photographs. , but that turn out to have entire chapters stored in memory. To travel decades for a flower, to look into the eyes of the grandfather who died, to feel the salty laugh of the only family vacation we had.
