September 29, 2013

Love In Exile

memories


Wine cannot be known by its smell is unreliable.

Love have a shared smell: the smell of longing for something else; 
a smell that remembers another smell...
a panting, nostalgic smell that guides you, 
like a worn tourist map, to the smell of the original place.

A smell is a memory, takes you into the realms of what is lost.



9 comments:

  1. ¡¡¡Muy buena foto!!!
    Magnifica edición.
    Saludos, Ángel

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sorry, Sophie, but I don't agree with your first line. I think either the wine bouquet or the wine aroma tell us a lot about the wine quality, but I can understand your choice of words. Very beautiful thoughts...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Right, Sophie forced the meaning of the first line to highlight what come next...

      Delete
  3. Hello Sophie.... wonderful photo !

    Cheers :)

    Greetings from Germany

    ReplyDelete
  4. Nice capture. I remembered a novel of À la recherche du temps perdu. The taste would make us to remember the old memories too. Thanks for sharing.

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    Replies
    1. I'm still lost in the reading of la recherche... I'm Charles Swann, I'm Odette, I'm Albertine, I'm Charlus. I'm Marcel :)

      Delete
  5. A Beautiful BLOG with Beautiful clicks and lines!!GOD<3U :)

    ReplyDelete
  6. have you gone to that original place with the wine I offered?

    You never told me.

    ReplyDelete

~ Thank you ~

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