There are moments; I don’t even need to close my eyes. Moments in which an aroma reminds me of a house, a corner of a living room, a side of a table, the roundness of a bowl, the wrinkling of a bed. I don’t know if I’m able to do the inverse path: lay a colour in a painting and when looking at it, thinking of smells that come or have resulted of sensations of joy or sadness, fullness or emptiness.