Heretic

My best experience with Aunt Caroline's Money Draw came from a ritual involving annointing a green candle, my wallet, and my bank card and concentrating on receiving some financial stabiltity and support for a lengthy trip abroad I was about to undertake. Not more than 48 hours after performing the ritual, I was notified that a grant for which I had applied to fund my trip had not only been approved, but had been enhanced by additional funds. I ended up being awarded a substantial amount of money. More recently, I put a bit of oil on my bank card and held it between my hands, hoping for a little extra windfall from somewhere, and the same day, I received notice that my university had miscalculated my fees and were crediting me a small refund. It is tempting to use Aunt Caroline's Money Draw frequently, but I'm afraid that to do so would be overstepping a boundary into the realm of greed, and that was not my intention for buying this oil. Scentwise, I find it heavily cinnamon with a metallic undertone. Not something I would wear, but that is not the purpose of this oil.

In the bottle: Sweet and candylike. On my wrist,wet: Sweet and fruity, like candy, but a deep, purple sweet. This is not cloying, overly sticky bubblegum, but a nice blackberry pastille. A surprise and not what I was expecting at all. After 20 minutes: What a delicious, rich scent. The blackberry takes the stage, but it is supported by the sage and soft, indistinguishable (to my nose) florals. After 40 minutes: Bitter Moon is a bit of a morpher, starting out as sweet blackberry and finishing up as an absolutely stunning soft floral, with the final drydown revealing the soft notes of wild roses, tonka, and the barest hint of vetiver to ground this very dignified and sophisticated blend. I am so glad I took a chance and ordered two bottles of this. Even though it is nothing like I expected, Bitter Moon is immediately a favorite and one I shall be stalking for more more bottles. My sincere condolences for those who did not order. This one is a real gem.

I purchased STFU specifically to dress candles for use regarding my neighbors across the street who, for the past nine years, have verbally assaulted my partner and I and called the police on all of the residents of the street for such horrible actions as saying good morning. They threatened us with a gun. Any trash they find in the alley, they throw in our yard. We do not have a driveway, so we park in in the street in front of our house-- this earned repeated complaints from them to our landlord. Neighbors' cats who happen to wander onto their property are sprayed with a hose with much screaming and cursing. This is a seventy year old woman and her 40-something daughter, mind you. I have mounted an eight-sided mirror above my front door to help bounce negativity back across the street, but when they revert to screaming obscenities at us or making nasty comments at me from the safety of their front porch, I dress a white candle with STFU and plant it outside in a direct line to their front door. I let it burn down and amazingly, they do shut up for long periods of time. I will never be without this blend no matter who my neighbors are.

In the bottle: A little green and whoa lemon verbena! On my wrist, wet: Lemon verbena. After 20 minutes: Lemon verbena. After 40 minutes: Lemon verbena. I must not have seen the word "verbena" in the description or I never would have ordered this. Verbena smells like furniture polish on me and subverts all other notes. Yule was a mistake I should not have made. Off to the sale pile with ye.

In the bottle: Damp green and resinous. Wet, on my skin: Resinous and earthy-- soft, but deep and complex. There are sweet notes mixed with wood and earth, and something vaguely spicy underneath it all. Gorgeous. After 20 minutes: Hold on now. What just happened? That lovely, complex blend has turned to well-chewed cinnamon gum and a bit of Hallmark store. After 40 minutes: Well, The Castle has certainly come to a disappointing end on me. After the morphing to cinnamon gums and candles, it never changes again. I get no moss, no smoky burning leaves, no great ruins crawling with derelict vines and earth. Just chewing gum. A big disappointment-- not for the blend, which sounds like it is fantastic on most people-- here is yet another blend with which my bizarre chemistry refuses to play nice. I wonder what the note is that I've glommed onto in order to ruin this otherwise lovely scent? Alas, The Order of the Dragon scents have not worked well for me by and large.

In the bottle: Sharply resinous and a little sweet. On my wrist, wet: Orange blossom with the cloying edge removed-- it smells nothing like that first sniff from the bottle. After 20 minutes: The blossom scent fades quickly and reveals a deep, rich orange scent that is tempered by the majestic grounding of resinous frankincense and the warmth of saffron. It reminds me of a more complex Ra, evoking the essence of the sun at one of its most gentle, yet powerful, stages. After 40 minutes: Sol Invictus dries down to a soft, warm floral. I get faint traces of amber in the final stage of this blend, mixed with the complex frangipani note and just a touch of orange blossom. This is one of those blends that I was impatiently anticipating-- a sometimes unwise thing to do, because the oil very often does not meet my expectations. In this case, Sol Invictus is everything I wanted and expected the blend to be. It does not have a huge throw, but this type of scent doesn't warrant one-- it's intimate and personal, mature and understated, yet quietly powerful. I absolutely love this blend and will order another two or three bottles before it sets on the not too distant horizon.

Chaos Theory CCCLXXXIX In the bottle it's a bit muddy and indistinguishable. What is going on in this bottle? On my wrist, it turned into pure magic. I thought there was no smell to it at first, but the longr I wore it, the more I realized that this scent is such an extension of me and what I think I smell like that I wasn't registering any scent at all. It's just amazing. What I've got is a deeply personal and pleasing blend of wood, green, and carnation that resonates to my very core. It's subtle, complex, and breathtaking. I don't know how the hell you did it, Beth, but this is exactly what I wanted. Thank you so much!

I've been so busy, trying to wrap up my work so I can have a couple weeks of travel before I head home, so I've not resized and uploaded many pictures of the last batch of churches. I went to Poitiers on Friday, though, and was completely taken in by the crypt of the 6th century Saint Radegunde (one of my personal heroines, simply because she was an uppity, yet humble, woman). Here's a quickie of me in the crypt, Peony Moon blooming in the candlelight... ...and another of the steep stairs down to the crypt. An amazing place. The crypt up close. It was beautiful and peaceful. I'm off to Toulouse on Thursday, hopefully more pics up by then!

Thanks, both of you! I call that one the "My cheekbones will kick your ass" picture. Seriously, I need to be lit like that all the time. Someone please follow me around with tray of candles! Maybe I'll send it to the Trading Post. I only brought two t-shirts with me: Peony Moon and Dragon Moon. Bpal is getting some major exposure over here!

Another day of amazing discoveries that leads me to wonder what it was about this particular area that bred such perverse visual language. Today I shot the tiny church of Givrezac, near Champagnolles (where I was yesterday). Givrezac is a pretty little village, almost identical to Champagnolles, but where Givrezac is clean and bustling with life and had a rather mid-to upper class feel about it, Champagnolles was a dirty, dying slum where people stood around and stared at the crazy redhead on a bicycle come to take pictures of their delapidated church. Like Champagnolles, Givrezac's sculptural program was also fraught with profanity and male genitalia. For example, there was this...I don't know...it looks like a viking, but it's probably a demon: Then there's this guy, who is smiling for obvious reasons: And yet another megaphallic glutton, as at Champagnolles. But I could shoot from farther back in Givrezac, so I got a good view of what he's eating. If my eyes aren't playing tricks on me, his snack has a cross on it, which means he's chowing down on the host while his bits dangle beneath. Again, a serious lack of female figures here, and Valentina commented previously about the Champagnolles glutton that that sculpture incorporated a couple things near and dear to men's brains (food and sex). I think she's absolutely correct, particularly when one considers the 12th century-- it was truly a man's world, so of course the majority of these sculptures are directed at the male brain or set of morals. And rather fittingly (and infuriatingly), as I was walking back to my hotel after dinner this evening, a young man approached me and asked me something. I explained that I neither speak nor understand French very well, so sorry, and continued on my way. A couple minutes later, he pulled up next to me and asked (in English) if I was English. I never admit to being American over here, so I said yes. He then tried to pick me up, so I let loose with every nasty epithet I could come up with and if he didn't figure out I was American after that, then he's doubly stupid. Yeah, not all men, but seriously, fuckin' men...

Horrible. Shameful. I'm 40 and I can't ever remember kids behaving this way when I was a teenager. It's almost as if the world is just toxic and breeds contempt and violence in youths. Or maybe I'm just getting old. Great, though sad, post.

Not always in brothels! There are a good many phallic objects that were found in ordinary homes-- my favorite are the bronze winged-penis wind chimes. There were also oil lamps shaped like phalloi. Homes also had sex scenes painted on the walls, either in the bedrooms or the dining rooms. I teach an Ancient to Medieval art history survey course, and the Roman priapic stuff just floors my students. We have such an amazingly different view of sexuality today. If I were home, I could access my lecture files and post some examples. I really was not prepared to see all the penile references on these structures that I'm visiting. I'm fascinated with monasticism and am really disappointed that I don't have time on this trip to visit some of the remaining Medieval monasteries in France-- I'm curious about how much of this kind of imagery is in a closed environment with nothing but men and boys. Glad you're enjoying these! The hardest part about this trip is being alone and not having anyone to share all these incredible sights with!

Oh my. I am really beat after riding in the heat today and getting lost on top of everything else. However, I found a little church in the village of Champagnolles that was just a goldmine of smut. The entire sculptural program was peppered with the most profane things, and ot a single religious image anywhere. How bizarre. The piece that really grabbed my attention was this glutton, who obviously has other things on his mind besides food. Unbelievable. There were couples having sex, men showing their anuses, misers with money bags that looked like huge scrotums. Very graphic for church sculpture. I left and got lost, and finally made it back to the other church I was going to photograph today in the village of St.-Quantin de Ranconnes. That church had a very detailed anus-shower (that's show-er as in "one who shows"), but I have no idea why. He's over the door, so perhaps it was to usher people into the church quickly? The strangest thing I'm noticing, though, is the lack of obscene women sculptures. There are plenty of women on the level with monsters and demons (the misogyny of some of these programs is mind-blowing), but not in lewd or sexual context. Yet one more avenue for me to explore...

I've heard tell of a Spinarius on the little church of St.-Leger en Pons who has an enormous penis, so naturally, I needed to document this little guy and the rest of the sculpture on the church. It was a beautiful day and a Sunday, so the roads were nice and clear. I rode out and by golly, it's true! Not only is the feller's twig showing, but his berries are, as well! This corbel is near the front of the church, and is the only corbel on the table that is easily visble from the road. What a bizarre figure. I thought I saw another figure with his genitals out, but it's hard to tell, even with my awesome zoom, because the stone on this church is beset with some heavy-duty lichen infestation, so it plays tricks on the eyes. I did so much today, I'm extremely knackered and so I'm hitting the sack. More tomorrow!

I've been in France for almost three weeks, but have been unable to post about the trip so far because the first hotel where I stayed (in the toxic industrial town of Melle) claimed to have internet access, which they in fact did not. Plus, three days after I arrived I became so ill I was making phone calls home to tell people I loved them, because I was sincerely convinced I was going to die. The hotel owner wanted to take me to the hospital, but I couldn't even come up with the energy to agree. I was extremely ill for about 12 days. On top of that, customs seized my bike and tore him apart looking for what? Drugs? That I mailed to myself? Assholes. So I had to rebuild Morpheus when he finally turned up. Somehow, I managed to get some work done. A couple of the churches in Melle had been restored, which is nice for the tourists, but I have to wonder how true to the original some of the sculpture is, you know? I think things are sometimes simplified and sanitized for mass consumption. I have to say, though, that two of the churches (St.-Hilaire and St.-Pierre) were completely awe-inspiring in their sheer mass. I felt very insignificant standing in the nave, looking up at the stone vaults high above. The one church I was unable to go inside (St.-Savinien) is the only one that had truly "obscene" elements. Below, notice the couple doing the nasty and a man with an erection crawling along. Both of these are on the west facade of the church-- right by the main entrance. A few miles outside of town I discovered a little church that had very little sculpture, but what sculpture it did have was nothing but monsters. No religious theme anywhere. I am particularly intrigued by column swallowers and find them particularly phallic, although one of my colleagues disagrees with me. Here's the swallower on the south side of the portal, notice the little hand up to his pointy ear. His compatriot across the portal has left trails in the column with his teeth. You can't tell me that's not phallic. I think I was made ill by the factory in Melle. I still had five days left in the town yet my work there was finished. I gathered up my strength and checked out of the hotel, loaded up my bike, and pedaled 20 miles to the south to the tiny village of Aulnay de Saintonge, whose church I've wanted to visit for years, if for nothing else than to see the ass playing a harp. What I didn't realize is that the ass also has an erection. In most tourist literature, that part has been photoshopped out. I spent two days in Aulnay and being there was like some sort of healing medicine for me. Every time I have waves of strong emotion, I can't help but wonder if twelfth century pilgrims felt the same way. I really felt connected to that place and felt completely at peace there. I had planned to ride out of Aulnay and down to Cognac, but the proprietor suggested that, as a historian, I might like the old Roman town of Saintes better, so I took a chance and rode about 35 miles down to Saintes, a town full of medieval and Roman remains (and fantastic shops and restaurants!). Here was another place I felt completely connected to, and indeed, I would say happy. I had a great meal and found myself wandering a little drunk on wine along the banks of the Charente River at sunset, purely blissed out and at ease. The next day, I left for Pons, where I will be based for the month of June. Pons is a nice enough town, but I feel a little disappointed with it, especially after Aulnay and Saintes. The good thing is that I have a lot of work to do here to keep me busy and there is a train station (something that Melle didn't have), so I can go places if I need to get away. Saintes is a fifteen minute train ride away for $11, so I'm already planning on going there next Saturday for the day. I'm considering leaving Pons a few days early so I can go stay in Saintes and leave France loving a little bit of it. There's more to this story, of course, but I'm so behind in the telling of the tale, I'm just trying to get up to speed. More episodes later!

I'm glad you enjoyed them! I've shot over 2500 now, I just need to start posting them. I've seen so many amazing things. Tomorrow I'm off to St.-Leger en Pons to photograph a man with an enormous penis pulling a thorn out of his foot!

I've been working with a variety of TAL oils in order to get myself mentally prepared for this journey and on days when I need to get myself to a very strong place I'll wear several at once on appropriate places on my body in addition to annointing talismans and burning annointed candles. I have room in my bags for five imps of BPAL, which will live in a ittle Tic-Tac box, but I can't take my TALS in their bottles, and I don't have imps of those. So with the utmost respect for Beth's amazing talents regarding the creation of the TALS, I blended my most important TALS together into one tiny bottle (about 2 imps-worth) so I can have them with me. After focusing long and hard on my goal, I went heavy on my daily staples White Light and Anthelion, added several drops of Lionheart and Determination, a few drops of Fiery Wall of Protection, and just a drop each of Charisma and Crown of Success. I added each component until it felt right, and there's my Pilgrimage Blend. I was tempted to add a touch of ACMD, but this is not a blend for material gain, but for spiritual support-- what 12th-century people walking this route would have sought. This has been a stressful, weepy morning, but in the process of blending these oils together, my heart has lightened and my spirits lifted, I feel optimistic and motivated (even though I would love to just go back to bed). One of the things I want to do is take a picture for Beth of a vista on this pilgrimage that embodies the feeling these oils give me. Somewhere along the way, I'm going to come across a view that makes my heart soar, like these oils do, and I will know that I need to stop and embrace the moment.

I tend to anthropomorphize inanimate objects, and my bicycle, Morpheus, is no exception. So it was with mixed emotins that I left him hanging on a hook in the bike shop, only to return hours to later to retrieve him in pieces contained wihtin two boxes. I transported him to the post office and with much form-filling hassle and a hefty postage fee, I shipped my bestest buddy off to France. If all goes as planned, he'll be waiting for me at my hotel when I arrive next week. Here he is all loaded up for the trial run last week: Oddly, everything is done, except for tossing in my toothpaste and zipping up the last bag. Somehow, it doesn't seem possible. Now to laze around for the rest of the week and enjoy the bon voyage BBQ this weekend.

In ten days, I leave for a six-week trip to south-western France, where I will be conducting research for my Ph.D. dissertation. I'm going alone and I'll be traveling by bicycle within France along part of the medieval pilgrimage route that runs from Tours to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. This is either going to be an extremely meaningful period of introspection and personal growth for me, or I'm going to drive myself nuts before I'm done. The basis of my dissertation is to construct and decipher a vernacular lexicon comprised of marginal sculpture on twelfth-century churces along this route, concentrating particularly on the use obscene or profane figures. Unfortunatley, the guidelines of the BPAL blogs specifically prohibit the posting of obscene and profane material (no mention of whether 900 year old obscenity counts), so I most likely won't be posting photos of those elements. However, I'll try to link to outside sources like Flickr for the real meaty stuff. I'm totally packed except for my laptop, my toothpaste, my makeup, and my jammies. I'm shipping my bike over on Tuesday, so it will be waiting for me when I arrive. For the most part, I'm zombified. I'm so ready to go, so ready to be on the road with my camera, and yet I've been having some really severe panic attacks. I'm sure this has to do with my pathological fear of flying. I've not been on a plane since 1993, and in that case, the woman behind me gave me a valium so I'd chill out. Being a control freak can be majorly detrimetal to one's mental health. So tonight, I'm going to a departmental awards ceremony where I'm getting a nice chunk of change ($4500!) to pay for a lot this trip. And maybe therapy after being alone with myself for so long. More later...

I'll make sure I get pictures posted somehow! I can't believe I'm actually going to do this...

Another vote for Lust. It makes me want to hump my own wrist.

In the vial: Cake. On my wrist, wet: Butter. Not getting any boozy notes. After 20 minutes: Butter and berries. After an hour: Berries (with butter). Fortnately, it fades away rather quickly on me so I don't have to scrub it off. In all fairness, I ordered this one for the name. The Closet Monster is an old friend of mine and I should have known better than to order it after having read the description. I do not like food scents and this one is over-the-top sweet and foody. I don't even think I'd put this in a burner to scent a room, so off it goes to someone who likes butter.

In the vial: Sophisticated ladies' perfume. On my wrist, wet: Heady and fruity with a bit of dryness. After 20 minutes: A bit of fruit and nut. Reminds me of a very toned-down Sacred Whore of Babylon without the sweetness. After an hour: Wow. Sheol is a very complex blend. Eventually it dried down to a slightly sharp floral with a lot of body. Very well-blended, so it's difficult to pick out individual notes. Definitely feminine, but not a "pretty floral." Sheol means business. I quite like this once it's dried down.

In the vial: Fresh green, light. On my wrist, wet: A lovely, substantial aquatic with a very recognizable lily note mellowed and grounded by a grassy green base. After 20 minutes: This is drying down to a grassy, salty, lily aquatic. I love aquatics, but they all tend to smell the same on me.This one has a little something extra in it. After an hour: Definitely the most interesting aquatic I've tried. It didn't turn to pure lily and kept its green note through all stages. Olokun is bright, fresh, clean and not at all insipid. It's what I wanted Cthuhlu to be. I'll be picking up a bottle of this one.

In the vial: Green with a slight "men's cologne" note. The oil itself is very viscuous and deep green. On my wrist, wet: Green and...is there mint in there somewhere? Very earthy and green with some subdued woodiness. After 20 minutes: This reminds me a little of Lenore, but without the sting of vetiver. A dark, mellow scent that isn't heavy. After an hour: Oblivion is a difficult blend to describe. It's beautiful, but I wouldn't call it pretty, weighty but not heavy, dark but not dreary. Neither masculine nor feminine. It is a very mysterious scent. I think it would layer very well with Lush's Tramp. Definitely bottle-worthy. A new favorite!