Museum Visit of the Day: My Tomato Plant

Museum visit of the day: my tomato plant

Goodness, the smell of tomatoes on the vine just gets me. I have a few tomato plants—grape and cherry—and when I get up close enough to pick my miniature harvest, that distinctive tomato-y smell wraps me up and takes me somewhere. I don’t know where exactly; I never had tomato plants growing up so I don’t think it’s a sense memory. But each time I get a whiff of my tomato plant, I am transported by this all-encompassing and wonderful sensation.

I’ve come to accept the inevitability of this experience in my gardening routine: 1. Go outside. 2. Pick tomatoes. 3. *Have a moment*

When I think of aesthetic experiences, I don’t generally think of using my nose. Eyes obviously, ears definitely. I’ve somehow relegated touch, taste, and smell to the status of secondary senses for encountering art. But smell can be so powerful: immersing us in an old memory, giving us information about what materials are in an object, flooding us with pleasure (or disgust)…

My life is a little full throttle right now, and I’ll take any art I can get. So don’t mind me, I’m just the lady in the neighborhood who plops herself down next to the tomato plants and sticks her nose right in.