Scent & Memory

I was at the Brazilian supermarket in Astoria when  I saw it: the soap my grandmother used to buy when I was growing up in Recife. Sea sand and sargasso. Fluorescent green flowerscent. Grandma’s red nails. Crushed rose petals in a Bible. Do flowers have souls? I keep wondering if this little box  will become my madeleine. Alma de flores

8 thoughts on “Scent & Memory

  1. Camila, your beautiful writing inpired me to write my own scent/memory story. Thanks for taking me back to my madeleine.
    “In the fall, the scent of wet soil takes me back to childhood bike rides in the French countryside. Splashes of dry mud on my rubber boots and blue-jean cuffs. A woolen sweater. Because those rust-tinted rays of sunshine are no longer strong enough to keep you warm.”


  2. Your writing … ah! Imagery that stops me, sounds that seduce. I’m glad that you’re hooked. I look forward to reading more.


  3. Whenever I’m travelling through an airport I go to the duty free shop and look for the perfume section – or rather I smell it out! I look to see if there is a tester bottle of Yves Saint Laurent’s “Opium” and if there is I spray it on me and drink in its strong scent. My mother wore this fragrance throughout my childhood years and her cuddles would wrap me in it. To smell it years & years later takes me back into her arms. Love your website Camilla. Miss you too. Those Baruch days seem so long ago now. Beijos Jacquelyn


  4. Awe Camila, Alma de Flores is part of my life and memories too, there is something about this soap, it should be the “finíssimas essências” and it really works!! Beautiful writing amiga!


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