The Frenchman

painted wool flannel


Working for so many years exposed to toxic things in the art world like acetone, printers ink, chemical dye powders and turpentine fumes

Has left my olfactory sense on overload at the slightest whiff of anything.

This is called environmental illness.

It has it’s plusses and minuses.

I worked for a stint in Michigan at a very high-end furniture store called ROCHE BOBOIS.

A french Canadian cutie patootie furniture salesman used to visit the store on occasion.

We flirted.

He wore a mens cologne called EAU SAVAGE.

It made me swoon.

Recently rolling downtown I found myself drafting behind a gentleman dressed well, comfortably striding lankily in front of me.

I smelled that smell…

OMG, I smelled that smell.

Emma was inside her own olfactory ecstasy.

We were two just plain old-brained mammals jettisoned into various time zones past and present

With no eye for any damn thing..just our nose.

Now, the wake of a street person has a bit of a sour note.

Newly cut green grass affects Em and me equally

And silliness ensues.

If I could dig like her I surely would, I tell you.

Fragrances are potent prayers of a sort; dressing as I do with CHANEL #5 applied ritualistically I occasionally imagine Cathy Aten prayer flags wafting gently behind me as I roll..offerings of gratitude and recognition for the gift of Life.

On days I can’t muster more than peaked participation in the Game my fragrance helps me get right.

I guess it all comes down to the right accessories in the end.


One Response to “The Frenchman”

  1. Ed on September 12th, 2015

    Excellent and yes the “right accessories” are essential. And we have the furniture and the Frenchmen as part of our past. I understand the reasons why it is important to be unscented for meetings etc but miss the special signature scents of real and imagined lovers… Thanks for prompting those memories… Ed

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