by Darcy Rasmussen
When my then-lover had a job with a business dress code, and a pair of black shoes, he would shine the shoes in the living room of our apartment. The first time he did this, I smelled Kiwi black shoe polish and was transported. Dad is seated on the trunk at the foot of their bed, framed by the bamboo printed wallpaper and floral draperies. I am with him, watching him work - swish swish... swish-swish - polishing his boots with a brush, military style. I had forgotten that smell. But in that haze of sweet, oily odor, my memories came rushing in on me, like the spring tide, sending me to swim in my childhood.
Darcy Rasmussen, whose full catalog is here, can swim in nostalgia with the best of them.