Julia De Llanza
Effluvium
Effluvium
Julia De Llanza
We remember places through our senses—the salty breeze of the ocean, the warmth of volcanic rock underfoot, the unmistakable scent of an island carried by the wind. But what if those sensations became unreliable? What if the world as you knew it suddenly distorted, turning the familiar into something alien? For the past three years, I have lived with parosmia, a condition that warps my perception of smell and taste, transforming once-beloved aromas into something unrecognizable—sometimes even unbearable.
Lanzarote, an island defined by its striking landscapes and rich olfactory identity, became the perfect stage to document this altered reality. Through photography, I have attempted to translate an experience that words alone cannot fully capture. Every place I visited, every breath I took, brought with it an unpredictable reaction: scents that should have been earthy or fresh were instead pungent, chemical, or disturbingly wrong. And as my senses betrayed me, another took the lead—touch.
The texture of the air, the roughness of volcanic stone, the sensation of food against my lips became heightened, compensating for what was lost. This work is more than just a personal chronicle; it is an invitation to question your own reality. What if, one day, your favorite meal tasted like rotting waste? What if the scent of home became unbearable?