(Scroll down for No. 9) As seen at the Gypsy Bonfire, story-telling site hosted by my dear friend, Lisa Hoffman. July 2007 - samplings of my Mail Art. Visit her site here: Gypsy Bonfire I NEVER THOUGHT... of connecting fragrance and art until I met Michelle. It is still outside something I feel I can manage but her challenge did make me think of how connected I am to times, places and events through the sense of smell. Two stories: NEARLY ANCIENT HISTORY Carnations transport me to a basement apartment, the size of a large dining table, with roaches so mighty, so meaty they could only be killed with a hammer. Pipes connecting the rest of the building to the boiler ran across my ceiling. My door was the double-walled fire variety, steadfast as Dudley Do-right should the boiler explode. It was a dim and creepy gulag of a home on Kalorama Road in Northwest Washington, D.C. It was cheap, less than my weekly temp's salary; close to the bus stop; walking distance to everything that I could walk to without collapsing. The only food I kept there was a package of vienna fingers (we'll not speak of the roaches). Its greatest charm was shadows and the subterranean isolation held little comfort, beyond sleep and the scent of an extravagant carnation soap from my aunt. That and a friend's loaned hair dryer could be called house-warming gifts. My residency was short, mostly due to someone with a crowbar who thought anyone dwelling in such oppulance would have something worth stealing. They didn't even take the alarm clock. But while I was there, the soap's spicy warmth came to represent other unavailable signs of familiar life. It was hearth, roommate, a sense of some safety and welcome and the illusion of luxury in a space that could bring on spontaneous weeping. It was a gorgeous, bath-sized oval of reassurance, whispering, "It won't always be like this," and in soap I have never found its equal. MODERN TIMES The photo shows what appear to be fancy, foil-wrapped toffees. They are really perfume samples from Bond #9, the New York-based innovator of distinct and separate fragrances that celebrate New York neighborhoods and environs. My sister introduced me to the Bond world through "Chinatown." It might help you to know that my sister and I have for years discussed where we would go first if we had a time machine. We agree that we would go to one of the giant dime stores of our childhood at either Christmas or Halloween, wandering the wooden-floored aisles, intoxicated by wax lips or Santa candles, masks or candy containers or palm-sized cardboard houses with fake snow on the roofs and cellophane windows. In our fantasy we get to bring things back, a very SUV-esque time machine and, in our minds at least, much of what has been lost to growing up is restored. The second destination, again we agree, would be Los Angeles' Chinatown of the 1950s. While much of it remains nearly unchanged, what has changed is us. We want to go back with young eyes and quickly-beating hearts. We want the experience of mystery we found in the narrow alleys, neon signs, pagoda roofs and calligraphic signs. We want to be drawn into the curio shops, the smell of sandalwood and the fog from smoldering joss sticks allowing us to imagine we were Someplace Else. Light from paper and silk lanterns, tonal music from string instruments. We were spellbound, enchanted. My sister discovered in "Chinatown" fragments of that daydream. Again, we agree. Back to the foil-wrapped vials. They are perfume samples, available to order, six for $6.00, shipping included. I am still nearly speechless at such a bargain. You may visit their website at: www.bondno9.com to see what all they offer and find descriptions of the various fragrances. I ordered my samples by phone, (212) 228-1732. If you don't know what you'd like, the gracious sales staff is very good at matching customer with perfume and you have six chances to find the perfect one. I understand they have a policy of one set of samples per customer. Six new perfumes to try as you wish, not a sprayed mist as you walk by. The glass vials are very generous, way beyond anything I've seen as a sample in ages. Right now I am wearing "Coney Island," perhaps it will reappear to help me with future writing. I do not possess the vocabulary to describe scent but I can tell you that when I put it on I was sure I smelled lemonade. As it has mellowed it seems more like ice cream cone, not flowery sweet but warm and a bit tangy. They also offer homages to NoHo, Bryant Park, Chelsea, Fire Island, Harlem, I'm not sure how many. Bond #9, its memory in a bottle that is "Chinatown" and its glorious samples have given scent a new dimension. mmlkell@aol.com