I write these lines while riding back from Milano, after a few hours discussing the future of Tableau de Parfums in Italy. I think the future is bright there, we hope so at least. The rest of the week sees some retail order packing hectic in the factory.
Sitting for 8 hours in trains allows to get some mails done, to think a bit, but mostly it is time wasted, being reduced to oneself, a pair of eyes looking over a scenery that passes by, with shadows of the own face mirrored in a dirty window.
And the mind does what it always does when not being occupied: it comes up with questions. Such as why I am still living in mid Europe, although I hate it here after September right into March. I know the answer, but I do not like it.
Or the question of all questions: what do I smell like. This question is partly answered here in the Nosy Interview by Elizabeth
And does my own smell influence the way I create perfumes? This question is not answered yet.
The scenery outside does not provide answers, but at least it changes all the time.