Shel Graves' Sensorium

Taste: buttery, rich chocolate, an attraction of truffles Touch: featherweight, the Kindle2, disappearing, touch-less, technology Smell: the sharp, warm, anthropological spice of a room full of conversing people, we are in the cave Sight the gap between the gangplank and the plane, peering down on to concrete, the illusion broken, I am stepping onto sky Sound: crushed ice shimmies around the inside of a plastic cup; "Look how big my toes got. Look how big my toes got. My toes got very big.", a child's natural sense of rhythm, or is it the influence of Dr. Suess? Extra: suspending judgment; writer-philosophers, Eco, Murdoch

Taste: light, sweet Sky River Mead for drinking in the open air Touch: She's gripping my two fingers tightly, sitting in my lap as if it were her first ride at the fair.; She's struggling to stand on wobbly limbs she does not yet quite understand are her own and strong enough to hold her.; She's wriggling upward fish-like, active, and then she sinks back, asleep. Smell: It smells like mall in here: in the bathroom, a collision of department store fragrances, the two girls walk out, straight dark hair, tight pants, the shiny purses slung over their shoulders are wider than their hips; a sweet, spicy, woody pipe smoke, in place of the usual smoldering ashes, is the scent hiding something? Sight: He's leaning large over the sidewalk in a blue t-shirt. Sound: hip-hop Extra: "For a long time, it seemed forever, I lay there crying, sheltering my fallen scarlet ibis from the heresy of rain," — James Hurst's The Scarlet Ibis

Taste: a sweetness behind the French Roast coffee and the steamed milk Touch: jittery from lack of sleep, caffeine infused wakefulness Smell: seared mozzarella Sight : Orion's belt shines though a circle of wispy fast moving clouds the night sky around them is crisp midnight blue; ass-less chaps, mohawks and leather straps: Road Warrior Sound: Irish: craic; "Discomfort is the price of adventure." Extra: the business owner versus the employee, easily identifiable: alert, bustling, conscientious, a readily apparent air of engagement

Taste: salt, sustenance Touch: his hand becomes light, dissolves as he falls asleep while mine gains weight and I remain awake Smell: sweet, impenetrable decay enclosed in a car Sight: a small me sitting reflected in a golden doorknob Sound: dishes clatter, echoing through a kitchen at dawn, everything that drops a spoon, a knife, a bottle of pills, shatters the morning silence, a postcard flutters to the floor, the back door opens and closes creaking, the wheels roll, the lid snaps shut, the dog pants, the dog barks, and then, after the initial activity, the morning sated, stillness returns and silence Extra: heavy words: malignant melanoma metastasized, staging, brain fever, miracles, the unknown; the Kepler Mission launches March 5

Taste: dry, tart, bitter: pomegranate dessert wine from Israel Touch: course velvet Smell: Stilton, sour like cat Sight: four windows filled with sun, a bright spring landscape of pink and green behind my eyes Sound: "I opened 481 doors in two hours."; "The green coats knew where all ghosts were on campus." Extra: a pug dipped in sweet cream and sunflower seeds at the vet; a hamster eating strawberries; indelible memory, things learned on early jobs

Taste: onions, cilantro, and tomatoes decaying on the far back of the tongue, the digestive process reversed Touch: damp bed sheets, three wool blankets under Smell: raspberry muffin Sight: the stretching of a synthetic material around thighs that slip over the edge of a chair; her neck goes taut and she flicks her fingertips and shakes her hands in the air Sound: novelist Stephanie Kallos , a former actress, explains the physicality of Shakespeare's language the hard, angry b's and d's of Beatrice (until she thinks he is in love with her and expands in light i's) Extra: The sound and deliberate slowness of interpreting Riddley Walker, the sound of the language demands attention, the brain leaps over misspellings to make meaning.

Taste: oil, sugar, and a white, puffed, insubstantial dough Touch: when it does not quite reach Smell: old overly perfumed soap Sight: an unfinished office building with many floors but open to the air and inside crates of windows; the exposed waistband of his satin pants; women's hands on guitar and upright bass - the way they hold their fingers curled and flat respectively Sound: "Hey Clarence, your home girl is drunk off her ass."; "Staring down the tunnel of pain at the punk with the bald head." Extra: a Tudor-era gothic club with oboe, upright bass, and Taiko drums; the first theft; the first feeling of patriotism

Taste: banana and mint flavored condoms; fish soup Touch: cashmere on my upper lip, a Guinness Smell: honey, raisin, bread, tumeric — a yellow curry Sight: Camera eyes: San Francisco artist Tanya Vlach ; Toronto filmmaker Rob Spence Sound: vintage prophylactics Extra: a sunlit bathroom overlooking the ocean, bliss; I hit the man that assaults my father. I wrap my arm around his neck, pull him down and he falls, crumpled, to the floor. He is thin and tall and I should not be able to reach his neck from behind. My strength and power surprises me.; World Transhumanist Association