Best of 07: A Finely Scented Medieval Story

Taste: food eaten at the Camlann Medieval Fair: cinnamon spiced cherries and beans flavored with an anise gravy; and on ordinary days cilantro
Touch: my foot tucked comfortably into the crevasse of my knee and thigh; silky, the taller dog's head, Story, is softer than all others
Sight: traditionalist colors: burgundy, forest green, walnut, cream, and the matching russet, black and white dog with dewy eyes, erect ears, attentive posture like a painting; a yoga studio's cathedral ceiling; dancing boy hips, straight lines becoming suggestive waves
Smell: blooms of ground chocolate as if it is growing in the air, Theo Chocolate; sweet, floral - jasmine, lilies? my mother's silk dresses, Oscar de la Renta draped down an empty hallway; The grocery store aisles evoke memories of the orchard rows, the filled bushels, the cider press, the murky gallons. It's time to eat apples.; calming, sensual pine massage oil disconcertingly on the dog's head; burnt sage to purify auras for the palm reader
Sound: three, three, three - words, words, words - Sylvia Plath; words repeated over and over gaining depth and layers, sinking in; Tom Shear's voice rises out of the depths and shimmers, there's peace and power like an arching whale

Extra: inner quiet, absence of thought and domesticity: on the United Nations International Day of Peace, Global Mala; Bierstadt at the Seattle Art Museum painting the West Coast he'd never seen and almost capturing it exactly except something's just a touch surreal - the lighting? the position of the sea around the inlet? the drama? Infused with his imagined sense of adventure?; a dream of a room of water mazes: tunnels, shoots and slides. There is no way to get to the pool to watch the swimmers without getting wet.

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Shel Graves' Sensorium

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