For some time I had imagined that you could mix senses. By that I mean that I assumed that our sensory experiences collided and merged and ... fused at a level precious enough to override the strict rules hemming them in. Have you ever smelled a taste or visualized a sound? I remember the revelation I had, while sitting on the carpeted floor of our wood-paneled living room in, oh, let's say...1981. The channel of fuzz, the channel of snow. My leg was asleep and I was staring at this fuzzy snow thinking how remarkably similar this sight and sensation seemed to me, somewhere underneath the rock underneath the tree in the primeval pureness of my pre-jaded juvenile mind. My mother, a competitive swimmer back in her day, used to swear by an expensive salon conditioner meant to reduce the chlorine residue scorned by so many of her ilk. To this day I can conjure the smell of this conditioner as it approximated in my childish mind the exact taste and sensation of a refreshing can of Orange Crush consumed directly after a relaxed summer afternoon spent running through the sprinkler positioned devilishly on our newly shorn back lawn.
