In June 2019, my mom moved out from the house I grew up in with my sister, for almost 21 years.

We lived in a social house in Paris, build in 1900, and renovated in the year 1999. a couple of 150 families where occupying the building and as it was a social housing the mix was completely multicultural. Every floor had a different smell, it was so rich.

Before it's renovation, most of the building was used as artist atelier, we benefit from this time large windows, a lot of natural light, and a very quiet environment. The common parts where very neutral, everything from the floor to the ceiling was light green, even the mail boxes. Linoleum, plaster, a piece of iron, zinc sheet where most of the material used. "Souless" , if you compare it to the flourishing life emerging of each apartment. Only a special attention was made to the yard, where a not-to-ugly ceramic floor tile was design, in a light green/baby blue palette. But we rarely invest this space due to it's loud resonance through all the block.
The elevator going through the 8 floors was very hostile, no window, no mirror. I often had comments on the strange feeling the building gave to people visiting. I liked it, I think because the transition from this inhospitable corridor to our lively apartment, made home feel even better.

The flat had changed quiet a lot but the smell of it never change. Everytime a friend came, the first thing she/he notice was a scent of indefinable spices. When I was living there I couldn't attach this smell to something in particular. It was certainly a mix from the scarf of my mom, the spices from the kitchen, rugs and textiles brought from travels, and more. The smell was a sample of our lives within the apartment. However a few weeks ago I used cardamom in my coffee, the smell and the combination of the aroma brought me back to my old living room. Now I still don't know if this was the original smell/taste of the place, but this is how it was translated by my memory.

I had so much memories created in my apartment. The last evening I spent there, I took picture of the entire building and apartment , trying to grasp a piece of it with me.
After one year without being in this space I never really felt the need to look through theses pictures. In the end I have a great memory of the apartment & building, a full library of senses and feeling of it.
Through my senses, especially smell & taste.I feel like I took a piece of this place with me.