Smell

worn cover, fingers slowly turning the yellowed pages, a sweet, musty, smell wafts to your nose. Admit it, we have all sniffed the pages of a book before. Any book lover is familiar with this smell. College London described as “a combination of grassy notes with a tang of acids and a hint of vanilla over an underlying mustiness, this unmistakable smell is as much a part of the book as its contents.” However, where does this smell come from? It is exhilarating and drifts throughout the aisles in the

The hypothesis, If the smell is cinnamon then the taste of the ketchup will decrease. The science fair idea was to see if the smell affects taste; when people breathe in and eat at the same time would the smell have any effect on the taste of the food. If something smells bad but taste good would the smell affect the taste. This project is interesting because it is seeing if smell would affect the taste of foods. If someone was to go without tastes buds would they still be able to taste it in a different

This case study analyses the songwriting and production processes used in making "Smells Like Teen Spirit", the epochal song quickly hailed as the anthem of the young generation after its release. The song was written by Kurt Cobain, frontman of the grunge band Nirvana in 1991 and produced by Buch Vig during the same year. According to a research conducted by Dr. Grierson (Gray, 2015), "Smells Like Teen Spirit" is the most iconic song ever created thanks to its simple composition and memorability

Throughout the life of any man or woman north London, there is an indescribable amount of desire to be successful. Thoughts of Lamborghini’s, Ferraris, or a home on an island too foreign to pronounce contribute to sleepless nights. One’s whole life consists of buying bigger objects and becoming better in hopes of reaching the point where one can say “I am a success”. Success, especially in north London, is not a fixed point rather it is a progression in constructing a lifelong project plagued by

Silent films ushered in the era of moving pictures and paved the way to modern cinema. Films such as “The Passion of Joan of Arc” and “Sweet Smell of Success” represent the early and later stages of this time period that was dominated by silent films. Within these films, two actors stand out for their performances and there own unique traits they utilize to make the character they are representing their own. Renée Jeanne Falconetti and Burt Lancaster both are superb leading actors that, through

Sounds, sights, and smells are some of these factors, and while we may not be aware that they are having an effect on us, they are. Many stores, shopping malls, and restaurants try to purposely portray certain types of sounds, sights, and smells that they think will inadvertently entice customers into their establishments and spend money. This past week I visited two different stores, Younkers and Bath & Body Works, and I will be discussing the different sounds, sights, and smells I experienced at both

It's the smell that hits you first. As you lug open the big and awkward, reddish-brown-painted door decorated with its tired hinges, that creak like the moaning of difficult and crabby old men, a puff of the sweet, old and bad-smelling odor of last summer's straw presses from your first, slow breath into your nose. Then you detect the undertones: the hot and humid, snobby musk of animal fur and the sharp smell of old, oily metal and machinery. Soon after the smell, your eyes make up for the dim paleness

all sat to talk about everything then, the smells of food coming out the door as they call us inside to eat. As I walk up the stairs all I smell is food which makes my stomach start growling because how heavenly it smells. Sometimes I would be sitting down on the porch looking at the sunny sky and the smell of my father’s rice and beans makes me race inside to see if the white rice with the red beans and fried chicken would be ready soon. You can smell the sweet and milky flan that he makes every

windowsills. Rustic sconces illuminate the front door, adorned with a wreath that shouts Christmas. Through the window, a humble but lovely Christmas tree can be standing as a proclamation to the impending festivities. As I approach the house, the smells of home engulf me: the crisp

stretcher to another. The man in white cameover to him again, smiling, some thing gleamed in his right hand. He patted his cheek and made a sign to someone stationed behind. It was unusual as a dream because it was full of smells, and henever dreamt smells. First a marshy smell, there to the left of the trail theswamps began already, the quaking bogs from which no one ever returned. But the reek lifted, and instead there came a dark, freshcomposite fragrance, like the night under which he moved, in