Sounds and smells

How much do you remember about a place you've left. What things exist everyday in your world, today that you could miss if that world changed?

In Brooklyn I never smell fresh cut grass, but instead lots of lacquer smells from the auto body shops in the neighborhood. In Manhattan there is the constant sound of cars, buses, horns, stereos, protesters, ambulances, police sirens, construction, wind, and people. The smells in Manhattan shift depending on how fast you're walking: coffee, fish, rotting vegetables, baking bread, sewage, car exhaust, fried garlic, falafel, trash.......... In Knoxville, you always hear trains. The city doesn't have passenger trains, only freight, but the tracks seem to be ubiquitous. Trains honk their horns before every intersection of track and road. I've heard they have to do this, especially in crossing that don't have gates. I don't hear these trains anymore, because I live in Brooklyn, nor do I smell the burnt coffee smell of JFG on Sutherland Ave, where my studio used to be. JFG moved from downtown Knoxville to Sutherland Avenue around 2006, the same year I began renting space at Mighty Mud Studios. Standing out on the loading dock, you could hear trains, football practice on a nearby field, and smell burnt coffee wafting through the air. The studio, itself, had no windows, but the bay doors were mostly kept open, allowing fresh air to move through, all day long. I've been thinking about this, lately, because I want to start looking for a studio in Brooklyn, and know that it's hard to find one with even a window, let alone a view or fresh air, but I'm curious to see what reveals itself as possibilities.

I'll post what I find.