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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Everyday Canvas
"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
David Whyte
This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
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Prompt: Write your entry for today about a place that you have spent a considerable amount of time in--perhaps somewhere you lived or worked before--and whose smells are curiously linked with your recollection. Describe the emotions and events from that period that those smells conjure up, and the ways in which your memories may have been colored by your preference or distaste of those smells.
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I didn’t spend all that much time in Fulton Fish Market, but this place, the overwhelming smell of the insides of fish while being discarded by the fast-moving cleaners of it, made such an impression on me that in any other city I traveled to, I searched for its fish market. No matter where I went, however, Fulton Fish Market’s sights and smells followed me. No other fish seller could rival the sellers of this place as far as I was concerned.
Most people are impressed by the restaurants, tents of merchandise, the yacht tours, and the museum here on Fulton street. Not me. My nose remembers the pungent musty odor of the fish mixed with crushed ice staring at me with dulled eyes. My nose also remembers the mussels and clams’ sea-weedy smells.
Smell is an ignored sense, especially in the cities; yet, I think stinky smells are crucial for our experiences, as this gives some quality to a city’s odors. Maybe because of the overpowering negatively scented smell of the Fulton Street, to this day, fish has stayed as my favorite protein food. This makes me think that smell has a special link to memory that other senses lack, for each time I smell fish, my mind reverts to the times I walked on Fulton Street.
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