In response to the comment from Elizabeth Rawls (E.Rawls Dreamer), I used the just thought up term ‘memory sensuous’. As I read her comment, I thought of a ‘Steve’ vignette that I had told an acquaintance a few hours before.
It was 29 years before the turn of the century (sounds so historical…no, not hysterical!), in the year 1971, and I was on a trip to Venice, Italy. Thanks to a night of ‘wine, women, and song’, I had spent the wee hours of the morning trying to sleep on the steps of the Santa Lucia Train Station.
About 6:00am I gave up getting any rest and, with weekend backpack and guitar case over my shoulders, I went wondering around the empty streets of Venice to see and hear the real city.
As I passed one alley, the aroma of fresh baked bread was wafting its way into the world. I walked down to an open doorway and I saw a baker removing bread from the oven.
The aroma was an aria; and when the baker noticed me standing there, he recognized a true ‘fresh from the oven bread’ enthusiast. Of course, having not eaten in the last eight hours also helped my appreciation look. The baker said good morning and I responded.
I looked at my watch, wondering what time the bakery opened. Seeing my disappointment, the baker handed me a loaf of the fresh baked bread. I took some Lire out of my pocket to pay for the loaf. However, the baker said they were not open… enjoy. Dazed thank you. I figured with my Army haircut and guitar case I looked like a jazz musician who just finished a nightly gig…vice the traveling hippie currently commandeered by the military.
I continued my walk along the narrow streets, soon to be noisy with tourist, munching away. Yes, the bread was delicious!
Think about your ‘building blocks’; we can not write without them.