Showing posts with label senses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label senses. Show all posts

Saturday, 10 December 2011

A sense of something...

I didn't know what to write about tonight - more especially, how do I illustrate with words this piercing picture I just knocked up for Sunday Sketches?

I figured maybe I'd just sling in a few totally random thoughts.

First up, something strange is happening with my sense of smell. Yesterday I caught a splash of Gardeners' World on TV (channel surfing... honest!). There was actually a quite fascinating feature on Christmas trees and the more I watched, the more I was convinced I could smell Christmas- you know that wonderful waft of pine that tickles your nostrils when you come downstairs to say hello to your indoor tree at this time of year...*

(Want to smell it too? Check this out - about 45 minutes in.)
Then today, the Hairy Bikers were cooking up the new 'traditional' British grub - Singapore noodles! I swear my nose was in the room with them. Sense of smell began conspiring with taste buds as ginger, garlic and spice pirouetted around my conscious.

(This one starts getting smelly at around 40 minutes.)

As much as I was enjoying smell-o-vision, I was beginning to become a little concerned. Would it be safe to watch a documentary on cattle farming? Right now I can smell mango. No, I'm not watching a tropical drama or even another cookery show - it's mango body lotion on me... I smell delicious!

So, we've discussed taste and smell. Sight is clearly represented by the sketch I did this evening (gesso over advertising material, topped with coloured pencil). I'm listening to Michael Buble croon softly in my ear and fingers feel the smooth keys as I type frantically away. Most of the letters on my keyboard have worn away. It's fine for a touch typist like myself, but drives the rest of the family mad when they try to use it. I won't bore you with listing what's left, but if my keyboard was scrabble tiles, there's only very high scoring letters left.

*Although I hate to ruin the story - ours is artificial! I'm going to buy some of Heston's pine-sugar-dusted mince pies when I can be bothered to trek across town to Waitrose.
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