Showing posts with label W. Somerset Maugham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label W. Somerset Maugham. Show all posts

Thursday, November 3, 2011

scents of stories




For men and women are not only themselves; they are also the region in which they are born, the city apartment or farm in which they learnt to walk, the games they played as children, the old wives tales they overheard, the food they ate, the schools they attended, the sports they followed, the poets they read, and the God they believed in. It is all these things that have made them what they are, and these are the things that you can't come to know by hearsay...   W. Somerset Maugham 

Just as people are a mulligatawny mix, so are places.  They are bowls left with remnants of unique recipes, scraps and scents of stories, wanting to be savored, waiting to be told.  me 


image:  from my Abandoned America series, "T-Shirt Window", Delaware, Ohio