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Showing results for tags 'Yule 2011'.
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Sharp is the night, but stars with frost alive Leap off the rim of earth across the dome. It is a night to make the heavens our home More than the nest whereto apace we strive. Lengths down our road each fir-tree seems a hive, In swarms outrushing from the golden comb. They waken waves of thoughts that burst to foam: The living throb in me, the dead revive. Yon mantle clothes us: there, past mortal breath, Life glistens on the river of the death. It folds us, flesh and dust; and have we knelt, Or never knelt, or eyed as kine the springs Of radiance, the radiance enrings: And this is the soul’s haven to have felt. - George Meredith Black midnight winter skies glittering with points of light: chill air, champaca flower, white musk, fir needle, papyrus reeds, and grey amber. I find Winter Heavens really evocative and atmospheric, I was surprised at how it really captures the winter night. Most of the notes are well-blended and they create this dark fruity scent with soft sparkly musk and hints of chilly air and pine trees. After a while the champaca and chilly air peeks a little more. The entire scent is softer and fruitier than I was expecting and it falls a little flat on my skin but I could see this working well on someone with the right skin chemistry.
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The Frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped by any wind. The owlet’s cry Came loud—and hark, again! loud as before. The inmates of my cottage, all at rest, Have left me to that solitude, which suits Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully. ‘Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs And vexes meditation with its strange And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood, This populous village! Sea, and hill, and wood, With all the numberless goings-on of life, Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not; Only that film, which fluttered on the grate, Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature Gives it dim sympathies with me who live, Making it a companionable form, Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit By its own moods interprets, every where Echo or mirror seeking of itself, And makes a toy of Thought. But O! how oft, How oft, at school, with most believing mind, Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars, To watch that fluttering stranger! and as oft With unclosed lids, already had I dreamt Of my sweet birth-place, and the old church-tower, Whose bells, the poor man’s only music, rang From morn to evening, all the hot Fair-day, So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted me With a wild pleasure, falling on mine ear Most like articulate sounds of things to come! So gazed I, till the soothing things, I dreamt, Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged my dreams! And so I brooded all the following morn, Awed by the stern preceptor’s face, mine eye Fixed with mock study on my swimming book: Save if the door half opened, and I snatched A hasty glance, and still my heart leaped up, For still I hoped to see the stranger’s face, Townsman, or aunt, or sister more beloved, My play-mate when we both were clothed alike! Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side, Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm, Fill up the intersperséd vacancies And momentary pauses of the thought! My babe so beautiful! it thrills my heart With tender gladness, thus to look at thee, And think that thou shalt learn far other lore, And in far other scenes! For I was reared In the great city, pent ‘mid cloisters dim, And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars. But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds, Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores And mountain crags: so shalt thou see and hear The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible Of that eternal language, which thy God Utters, who from eternity doth teach Himself in all, and all things in himself. Great universal Teacher! he shall mould Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask. Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet Moon. - Samuel Taylor Coleridge The liberating glory of nature, a celebration of wildness of spirit: fierce musk and immortelle, clary sage and oud, terebinth pine and ambrette seed, ivy and tobacco, honeysuckle and orange blossom. Frost at Midnight begins with a flurry of notes. It's fresh smelling, which may be the sage and pine, or the ivy. I can't identify the immortelle or other notes. I don't detect any tobacco. But there's definitely a lot going on at once. After it dries for a few minutes the honeysuckle and orange blossom show up but aren't heavy or overwhelming. Frost at Midnight turns into a nice, light floral. I was hoping for more pine and greenery to stick around. I think this will be a really nice Spring scent though I may have to slather it.
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“Grandmother!” cried the little one. “Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!” And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety–they were with God. Divine mercy: sweet winter berry, orange blossom, frankincense, golden sandalwood, angel’s trumpet, and red rose. Wow, another first! I'm a bit unsure of this one. The intial wet stage is almost too much for my nose. That's a lot of berries and rose. Mostly berries, but I can for sure smell a sweet, bright rose there. Sometimes the backs of my wrists tend to amp brighter, fruitier notes though, and I have this on the backs of my wrists. When I have a chance I want to test in on the insides of my wrists, and that's where I usually wear my perfume, and I think I will get more of the frankincense and sandalwood to balance the sweet berry-rose. And I just realized there's orange blossom in here too, which is probably adding to that sweet, fruity, floral hit in the early stages. I am able to get a hint of the underlying dandalwood and frankincense now that it has been dry for an hour or two, but it has also faded sonsiderably overall....so. I'm just not sure. I'm gonna give it some time and see how it develops.
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Vibrant yellow petals bursting exultantly through a patch of snow. Oof, first. I'll do my best. Label looks to be a crocus? My label is a little fuzzy, undoubtedly because of the printer issues mentioned by the Lab this year. Kind of minimalistic, but still pretty. In the bottle: Wow, so bright and pretty. Just slightly floral, and very, very.. yellow. I adore this in the bottle, I really do. Wet, on skin: Positively luminous, but there's an herbal undertone poking through here and the floral hint is lost quickly. Petals are replaced with an almost lemon-zest kind of smell.. not gross lemon, not Pine-Sol lemon, but freshly-cut lemon curls. Makes me think of lightning-bugs for some reason. Just a touch of some kind of pine or.. eucalyptus or something. Throw is pretty light on me.. I get wafts of scent, but I can't smell it constantly. Drydown: Very herbal and fresh, but mellowing out. Reminds me a little bit of Ricola cough drops, but not in a bad way. I've noticed that the Lab's lemon notes come out strong with me, so that might be a huge contributing factor here. After about an hour it becomes a bit more like a lemony, almost chamomile tea on my skin. Equally fresh/clean and relaxing without losing that brightness factor. Throw remains light and pleasant.. for the most part, this blend sticks close to the skin. Zero headache or sneezy feeling here. More like "I just showered!" than "cozy" and certainly not as floral as the description hints towards. (Edit: I just realized what this tea-ish smell is.. it smells quite a bit like my Earl Grey and Bergamot tea.) Verdict: It's not what I had hoped for, but I still like it. I'll probably offer it up for swaps in the end, but it's definitely not in the "wash it off" category for me. Maybe more of a scent for the end of winter and beginning of spring, as the crocus would suggest. If you're looking for something a little different out of the Yules, or if you really like fresh and clean scents, you might really love this one.
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Wine grapes, pomegranate, myrrh, frankincense and olive leaf, and the warm scent of offertory cakes. In the bottle: There's a hint of all the notes, as though they had been mixed into a white wine (non-alcoholic) from those grapes (green, I suspect). Wet: Now the pomegranate comes bursting through, with the gentle olive leaf in its train. The cake note is rounding this out, so it's not too fruity. The dry-down: The myrrh and frankincense are present, but only in a mild fashion, and the grapes are combining with the pome for a lovely light fruit note. If you don't want to smell like winter holiday sweet heavy food and drink or snowy woods or the Christmas tree, but still want a lovely light scent for the winter holiday season, this may be a scent to try. ETA: It's a rather elegant scent.
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“Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed? I know not; despair had not yet taken possession of me; my feelings were those of rage and revenge. I could with pleasure have destroyed the cottage and its inhabitants and have glutted myself with their shrieks and misery. “When night came I quitted my retreat and wandered in the wood; and now, no longer restrained by the fear of discovery, I gave vent to my anguish in fearful howlings. I was like a wild beast that had broken the toils, destroying the objects that obstructed me and ranging through the wood with a staglike swiftness. Oh! What a miserable night I passed! The cold stars shone in mockery, and the bare trees waved their branches above me; now and then the sweet voice of a bird burst forth amidst the universal stillness. All, save I, were at rest or in enjoyment; I, like the arch-fiend, bore a hell within me, and finding myself unsympathized with, wished to tear up the trees, spread havoc and destruction around me, and then to have sat down and enjoyed the ruin. “But this was a luxury of sensation that could not endure; I became fatigued with excess of bodily exertion and sank on the damp grass in the sick impotence of despair. There was none among the myriads of men that existed who would pity or assist me; and should I feel kindness towards my enemies? No; from that moment I declared everlasting war against the species, and more than all, against him who had formed me and sent me forth to this insupportable misery. Insupportable misery: violet leaf, saffron, gunpowder tea, bruised lilac, and despairing lavender. Misery is a stark, biting scent. Shrill, and appropriately so, it conjures a keening emotion. The combination of elements here all come together to produce a singularly frightening effect. I mostly get the lemony tang of tea, and the topnote of lilac. The violet leaf is mostly the gritty pungent leaf (no petals here!) and the lavender is contributing mostly the balsamic woodsy part, an herbal chomp. Yowza!
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These thoughts supported my spirits, while I pursued my undertaking with unremitting ardour. My cheek had grown pale with study, and my person had become emaciated with confinement. Sometimes, on the very brink of certainty, I failed; yet still I clung to the hope which the next day or the next hour might realise. One secret which I alone possessed was the hope to which I had dedicated myself; and the moon gazed on my midnight labours, while, with unrelaxed and breathless eagerness, I pursued nature to her hiding-places. Who shall conceive the horrors of my secret toil, as I dabbled among the unhallowed damps of the grave, or tortured the living animal to animate the lifeless clay? My limbs now tremble and my eyes swim with the remembrance; but then a resistless, and almost frantic, impulse urged me forward; I seemed to have lost all soul or sensation but for this one pursuit. It was indeed but a passing trance that only made me feel with renewed acuteness so soon as, the unnatural stimulus ceasing to operate, I had returned to my old habits. The moon gazed on my midnight labours: Moroccan musk, black opium poppy, clove, and orris root. First to review this. So here goes nothing! Wet: Soft but strong musk, which smells almost clean to me. (I guess that's what Morrocan musk smells like) with dry hints of orris. Dry: Musk, barely there clove (which I hope will get stronger with age) and orris root. This scent evokes a dark image for me. It is a scent for those who do bad things in the night, even if they think they are doing those things for the right reason. It's rare for a scent to evoke such an image from me. But this one does. It's purely clean, soft, and there is no poppy here and barely any clove. I see this being a frequently reached for bottle b/c I love the concept and the scent. However, I can see why it was hard on Beth to create scents attributed to the Frankenstein story.
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I am already far north of London, and as I walk in the streets of Petersburgh, I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which braces my nerves and fills me with delight. Do you understand this feeling? This breeze, which has travelled from the regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes. Inspirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams become more fervent and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of frost and desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as the region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is forever visible, its broad disk just skirting the horizon and diffusing a perpetual splendour. There — for with your leave, my sister, I will put some trust in preceding navigators — there snow and frost are banished; and, sailing over a calm sea, we may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in beauty every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe. Its productions and features may be without example, as the phenomena of the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered solitudes. What may not be expected in a country of eternal light? I may there discover the wondrous power which attracts the needle and may regulate a thousand celestial observations that require only this voyage to render their seeming eccentricities consistent forever. I shall satiate my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world never before visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted by the foot of man. These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to conquer all fear of danger or death and to induce me to commence this laborious voyage with the joy a child feels when he embarks in a little boat, with his holiday mates, on an expedition of discovery up his native river. But supposing all these conjectures to be false, you cannot contest the inestimable benefit which I shall confer on all mankind, to the last generation, by discovering a passage near the pole to those countries, to reach which at present so many months are requisite; or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which, if at all possible, can only be effected by an undertaking such as mine. The country of eternal light: icy wind, depth hoar, and frost-limned lichen. I can't say for sure what notes are in this, but I'm guessing there's gotta be some white musk. I thought I would have to wash it off or use it for sinus clearing, but I waited. It morphed completely, and an hour later it was the most pretty scent; softer and a little sweet, which is why I think there's some white musk in it. It kind of reminds me of Snowflakes after it's been on for a while. Definitely smell the lichen.
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Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening– the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast. Snow settling on cold skin, tea rose petals, and dusty, threadbare linen. I mostly get a clean fresh-linen scent from this one, very much like clothes just washed with a soft floral fabric softener, as it dries I start to get a little bit of pine-tinged snow. It settles into just-washed linen scent with hints of snow and pine and surprisingly I'm not getting rose on my skin but it's maybe blended into the linen scent and that's what is making it smell like a soft floral fabric softener to my nose. I like fresh clean laundry type scents so I find this pretty and actually my favorite from the batch I purchased, but I was hoping it would smell like a Pink Snowballs with soft linen but the fresh laundry scent overpowers everything else.
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But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall–frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Esprit de eucalyptus, blue musk, davana, frosty iris, and tagetes. A beautiful soft floral that lasts for hours. Bright florals and powder burst forth when freshly wet, a combination of the iris, tagetes, and blue musk at the fore. The scent barely changes as it dries, remaining neither warm or cold. The only change I detected was a softening and sweetening of the scent. It lasted forever on me, considering it seems like a light floral scent, and my skin absorbs perfume like a sponge. It lasted from about 930 to 4, and that's with me putting my robe on and off, thus rubbing it off my arms. The throw is decent as well, I could smell it wafting about me as I moved. It seemed feminine and clean. Definitely has a powder aspect, so if you're not into that, you may be disappointed. Although, I was expecting eucalyptus and I couldn't detect it, so that could be good or bad depending on who you are. There was almost nothing icy or minty about this scent on me. I can definitely see something bright but cold about this, like seeing the bright dawn on a chilly day. It smells a bit like being out in the cold, but not in the way "winter" scents classically do. The following is going to sound incomprehensible: the way your nose closes a bit when it's chilly and makes everything smell rounder. Over all, I adored this scent. I'm going to see how it smells in a month when it's settled, and hopefully I'll feel the same. 5/5, at the moment, though. Edited to add: Every time I wear this, I fall a little more in love. The first few times I put it on, I couldn't smell much that was eucalyptus-y. Now, it starts with a little chilly minty/eucalyptus kick combined with that beautiful soft floral goodness. Still, mint haters need not be afraid, it's not overpowering.
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They consulted their village priest, and the result was that Elizabeth Lavenza became the inmate of my parents’ house–my more than sister–the beautiful and adored companion of all my occupations and my pleasures. Beautiful and adored: rose musk, white gardenia, English pear, vanilla bean, red currant, and honey. Ooh! First time being first! The bottle is fresh out of my cold mailbox, so I'll come back and edit if I find this any different after it's had some time to settle from transit and warm up. Beautiful and Adored is a very traditionally feminine scent. It's very floral--bright and well-blended with TONS of gardenia and musk hitting me at first sniff (I'm not good at IDing musks other than red musk, but I would say the rose musk smells to me like white musk plus tea rose). It seems gentle in nature, but it's not as delicate as I would have thought; the musk was quite assertive and sharp on me, so much that I almost felt my nose hairs crinkling when I inhaled! The pear is a pretty strong note as well, and is lovely, but fades a bit as the scent dries. I do get some honey and vanilla as well, but I can't pick out the redcurrant at all (it may be blending with the pear to produce a general fruity note). It settles a bit and is a beautiful light scent when it dries down completely, but it's definitely not for everyone, as it's a very, very girly, "conventional perfumey" lightly fruity floral. Edited to add: it's far into the drydown now, the florals have died down and the redcurrant has come out to play at last. I keep getting the most amazingly beautiful whiffs of perfume wafting from my wrist when I move, lots of creamy vanilla touched with light musk, pear, and redcurrant. Gorgeous.
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Sometimes I allowed my thoughts, unchecked by reason, to ramble in the fields of Paradise, and dared to fancy amiable and lovely creatures sympathizing with my feelings and cheering my gloom; their angelic countenances breathed smiles of consolation. But it was all a dream; no Eve soothed my sorrows nor shared my thoughts; I was alone. I remembered Adam’s supplication to his Creator. But where was mine? He had abandoned me, and in the bitterness of my heart I cursed him. Amiable and lovely creatures: honey and rosewater with fig, patchouli, night-blooming jasmine, and white almond. I wasn't really sure what to expect with this one. I love figgy and almondy scents but jasmine can easily ruin promising scents, so it was kind of a toss up. I'm happy to say that this scent is elegantly blended and that the jasmine behaves itself. I'm getting a mixture of jasmine and light rose (it's not very strong at all) perched on top of creamy fig. It kind of smells like what I imagine an old-fashioned boudoir table would smell like, dribbled with rose water, jasmine perfume, and sweet powder. Off the top of my head, I can't think of a BPAL scent that compares with this, but it has elements of Miller V. California and Honey Mone. It's different but I like it.
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In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing of money: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags. Peppermint, spearmint, white musk, and elemi settling into a deepening darkness. Lots of mint and soft musk, which helps soften the scent a little. Lovely, but is similar to several other BPAL winter/snow scents that are mint-heavy.
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I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, I rushed out of the room and continued a long time traversing my bed-chamber, unable to compose my mind to sleep. At length lassitude succeeded to the tumult I had before endured, and I threw myself on the bed in my clothes, endeavouring to seek a few moments of forgetfulness. But it was in vain; I slept, indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I thought I saw Elizabeth, in the bloom of health, walking in the streets of Ingolstadt. Delighted and surprised, I embraced her, but as I imprinted the first kiss on her lips, they became livid with the hue of death; her features appeared to change, and I thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms; a shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the grave-worms crawling in the folds of the flannel. I started from my sleep with horror; a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth chattered, and every limb became convulsed; when, by the dim and yellow light of the moon, as it forced its way through the window shutters, I beheld the wretch –the miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his cheeks. He might have spoken, but I did not hear; one hand was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped and rushed downstairs. I took refuge in the courtyard belonging to the house which I inhabited, where I remained during the rest of the night, walking up and down in the greatest agitation, listening attentively, catching and fearing each sound as if it were to announce the approach of the demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life. Breathless horror: icy white musk and thick olibanum with niaouli, carrot seed, white mint, and camphor. This scent is so mild that I'm initially having a hard time getting a sense of it. What I can smell is a slightly sweet, mildly earthy effect of the carrot seed. What I'm NOT getting is white musk, white mint or camphor. Honestly it's making me think of when I had a rabbit, something to do with the faint scent of wood chip bedding and food mix. I wish I could describe this better because I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, this is very gentle, healthy, natural, barely sweet, and earthy in a sort of grainy way. The more I smell it, the more I love it.
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The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued. - Robert Frost Snowflakes and hemlock leaves with snowdrop, iris, and Peruvian lily. This is the familiar BPAL snow note, with a smooth almost eucalyptus like, smooth green to it. The lily is not terribly strong, and there's almost a vanilla sweetness underlying the scent. Drydown turns less minty and more a close, whisper of a scent. Pleasant.
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After having made a few preparatory experiments, he concluded with a panegyric upon modern chemistry, the terms of which I shall never forget: “The ancient teachers of this science,” said he, “promised impossibilities and performed nothing. The modern masters promise very little; they know that metals cannot be transmuted and that the elixir of life is a chimera but these philosophers, whose hands seem only made to dabble in dirt, and their eyes to pore over the microscope or crucible, have indeed performed miracles. They penetrate into the recesses of nature and show how she works in her hiding-places. They ascend into the heavens; they have discovered how the blood circulates, and the nature of the air we breathe. They have acquired new and almost unlimited powers; they can command the thunders of heaven, mimic the earthquake, and even mock the invisible world with its own shadows. Mocking the invisible world with its own shadows: olibanum and murky ambergris accord with verbena, white sandalwood, and wisteria. In the bottle I can't tell at all what this smells like. Maybe a touch of verbena coming out? First on it is definitely verbena and white sandalwood. Again, at this stage it seems almost like I have some sort of scent blind spot where I'm smelling this but it's not quite registering. Very odd! Maybe it's the ambergris and I just don't have a reference point for it. The dry down is almost all olibanum on me. Incense, but not headshop, this is sophisticated and magical. It smells like a meditation center I went to once as a kid. It's also very muted and stays close to the body, so I may need to slather this one. The scent is very grounding I think. I was hoping for more wisteria, but I'm not getting much, so wisteria haters need not fear!
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Another circumstance strengthened and confirmed these feelings. Soon after my arrival in the hovel I discovered some papers in the pocket of the dress which I had taken from your laboratory. At first I had neglected them, but now that I was able to decipher the characters in which they were written, I began to study them with diligence. It was your journal of the four months that preceded my creation. You minutely described in these papers every step you took in the progress of your work; this history was mingled with accounts of domestic occurrences. You doubtless recollect these papers. Here they are. Everything is related in them which bears reference to my accursed origin; the whole detail of that series of disgusting circumstances which produced it is set in view; the minutest description of my odious and loathsome person is given, in language which painted your own horrors and rendered mine indelible. I sickened as I read. `Hateful day when I received life!’ I exclaimed in agony. `Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even YOU turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance. Satan had his companions, fellow devils, to admire and encourage him, but I am solitary and abhorred. Solitary and abhorred: carrot seed, East Indian patchouli, white tea, and peru balsam. Wow! Gorgeous patchouli and peru balsam, with the latter dominating more and more over the former as it starts to dry, this is a very resiny blend that reminds me of old, gnarled black wood with a hint of vanilla and olives from the balsam. Dried down, the carrot seed complements it perfectly, adding something earthy and vegetal (something that makes me think of root cellars...I love that smell). I don't get much white tea, but tbh, I don't miss it either. Friends of Mandrake, Garden of Death or The Mandrake Charm will probably love this one, and it's softer, less pungent and less "green" than any of them. Not the patchouli-heavy blend I expected, but I think it's gorgeous and wouldn't change it one iota from what it turned out to be.
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Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant, but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endued with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same nature as man. I was more agile than they and could subsist upon coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with less injury to my frame; my stature far exceeded theirs. When I looked around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned? A blot upon the earth: black plum, Spanish moss, opoponax, davana, vetiver, and opium poppy. Lots of opium at the forefront, then something herbal, and just a hint of plum in the background. If you thought all the notes sounded great but were scared off by the vetiver, this might be worth trying anyway because I'm not getting any vetiver from this at all. Kind of disappointed there, since I love vetiver. It feels dark, but not thick or heavy. Shadowy, I guess. I almost really like it but the opium is going sharp and chemicalish on me like it always does. I was hoping that it wouldn't be so prominent. I'll hang onto my bottle for now and see what it's like in a few months.
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“If you consent, neither you nor any other human being shall ever see us again: I will go to the vast wilds of South America. My food is not that of man; I do not destroy the lamb and the kid to glut my appetite; acorns and berries afford me sufficient nourishment. My companion will be of the same nature as myself, and will be content with the same fare. We shall make our bed of dried leaves; the sun will shine on us as on man, and will ripen our food. The picture I present to you is peaceful and human, and you must feel that you could deny it only in the wantonness of power and cruelty. Pitiless as you have been towards me, I now see compassion in your eyes; me seize the favourable moment, and persuade you to promise what. I so ardently desire.” A companion of the same nature: skin musk, red rose petals, mums, carnations, white linen, and sunlit amber on a bed of soft dry leaves. This starts off heavy and the mums and leaves with a little rose and skin musk. As it dries, it gets a bit more musky and softer with hints of the carnation, linen, and amber. The drydown is a lovely skin-and-linen combination. Overall, this is nice enough, especially the drydown stage. It reminds me a lot of several past Halloween scents, like La Catrina Calavera and to a lesser extent, The Death of Autumn. I think I'll hang on to my decant to see how it ages but don't feel the need for a bottle as I have lots of autumn leaf scents in my collection already.
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When I found so astonishing a power placed within my hands, I hesitated a long time concerning the manner in which I should employ it. Although I possessed the capacity of bestowing animation, yet to prepare a frame for the reception of it, with all its intricacies of fibres, muscles, and veins, still remained a work of inconceivable difficulty and labour. I doubted at first whether I should attempt the creation of a being like myself, or one of simpler organisation; but my imagination was too much exalted by my first success to permit me to doubt of my ability to give life to an animal as complex and wonderful as man. The materials at present within my command hardly appeared adequate to so arduous an undertaking; but I doubted not that I should ultimately succeed. I prepared myself for a multitude of reverses; my operations might be incessantly baffled, and at last my work be imperfect: yet, when I considered the improvement which every day takes place in science and mechanics, I was encouraged to hope my present attempts would at least lay the foundations of future success. Nor could I consider the magnitude and complexity of my plan as any argument of its impracticability. It was with these feelings that I began the creation of a human being. As the minuteness of the parts formed a great hinderance to my speed, I resolved, contrary to my first intention, to make the being of a gigantic stature; that is to say, about eight feet in height, and proportionably large. After having formed this determination, and having spent some months in successfully collecting and arranging my materials, I began. No one can conceive the variety of feelings which bore me onwards, like a hurricane, in the first enthusiasm of success. Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world. A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs. Pursuing these reflections, I thought, that if I could bestow animation upon lifeless matter, I might in process of time (although I now found it impossible) renew life where death had apparently devoted the body to corruption. A torrent of light: eucalyptus petals, white mint, white amber, and ozone. yay, i'm first! let's hope i can do it justice. i find myself drawn to descriptions that are bright and clean, even though i don't always like the way they smell on me. a torrent of light smells great on me though, and i think it's because the amber tempers the higher pitched notes. bottle: light citrus? and ozone. i think that this might be the difference between eucalyptus petals and straight eucalyptus. it's a lighter non-astringent eucalyptus that makes me think of citrus. really amazing in the bottle. wet: oh yum! i smell clean and light. there's an brightness to it that makes me think of electricity, but the eucalyptus is vague and not harsh like i was worried it might be. it could be unisex at this point, which is usually how ozone comes across to me. dry at 5 min: the amber starts to warm and mellow the brightness of the mint and eucalyptus. i say mint and eucalyptus, but neither of those are really prominent or harsh like they can be. just light, breezy, and a hint of cold. this seems to be more feminine to me but it isn't strongly feminine at all. in fact i would say it is nicely androgynous. dry at 30 min: the amber has really warmed it up and softened it like amber usually does. i love amber in pretty much everything i've ever tried it in and seem to be lucky that it doesn't go powdery on me. the eucalyptus petals add a slight floral edge to it but i'm not really into florals and it definitely doesn't come across as a floral. it's more like the floral adds a touch of complexity to the warmness of the amber and the brightness of the ozone. verdict: i like it a LOT. i'm definitely keeping my bottle and i think it will work well on those days when i need a bright winter scent that isn't foody or sweet. masterful blend! 9/10 for those that were afraid of either the eucalyptus or mint being too strong or astringent, you should try this one anyway. they are very subtle and the amber and ozone are the more prominent notes.
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It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs. How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful!–Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips. A dreary night of November: bone-white sandalwood, ink-black vetiver, Spanish moss, bitter clove, beeswax, and lotus root. This is really lovely--wet, it is almost all beeswax with the darkness from the vetiver and a sweetness from the lotus. If you are familiar with Arcana's Holy Terror, it is quite similar without being as incensey and harsh. It is well-balanced and perfectly evocative of a dreary autumn evening!
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Everyone loved Elizabeth. The passionate and almost reverential attachment with which all regarded her became, while I shared it, my pride and my delight. On the evening previous to her being brought to my home, my mother had said playfully, “I have a pretty present for my Victor–tomorrow he shall have it.” And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine–mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed on her I received as made to a possession of my own. We called each other familiarly by the name of cousin. No word, no expression could body forth the kind of relation in which she stood to me–my more than sister, since till death she was to be mine only. Till death: white rose, black locust blossom, French magnolia, globe amaranth, iris root, and honeysuckle. OMG love! It reminds me of the floral part of Under the Harvest moon, but wetter and smoother. The magnolia and honeysuckle are the frontrunners in this on my skin, with the magnolia and rose being the ones that stick around after hours, though supported by other notes. I know those are death notes to some, but for the rest of us, I swear its absolutely lovely! Its wet green lovely ethereal flowers! Not much throw at all though... (disclaimer: my skin eats flowers) which is the only thing keeping me from the decant traveling over to the definite bottle pile. After a while its a lovely clean powder on me. Its the nice kind though, that makes you think of elegant archaic ladies. Not the call back to my childhood home I was hoping for from the note list (we had all of those things around the yard... and juniper) but still a very feminine scent I will definitely wear on occasion. --- Edit: Out of the mailbox a week, it seems to take on more of a green note and less of a powder on the skin. I don't think this is a blend that will overcome death notes or anything, as all of the notes are pretty clear, but it is a beautiful floral I am thinking of getting a bottle of. I think this will make a better lotion scent for me than perfume scent as it is so faint.
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The appearance of Justine was calm. She was dressed in mourning, and her countenance, always engaging, was rendered, by the solemnity of her feelings, exquisitely beautiful. Yet she appeared confident in innocence and did not tremble, although gazed on and execrated by thousands, for all the kindness which her beauty might otherwise have excited was obliterated in the minds of the spectators by the imagination of the enormity she was supposed to have committed. She was tranquil, yet her tranquillity was evidently constrained; and as her confusion had before been adduced as a proof of her guilt, she worked up her mind to an appearance of courage. When she entered the court she threw her eyes round it and quickly discovered where we were seated. A tear seemed to dim her eye when she saw us, but she quickly recovered herself, and a look of sorrowful affection seemed to attest her utter guiltlessness. Sorrowful affection: lily of the valley, tuberose, pink carnation, green tea absolute, orange zest, bourbon geranium, and blue musk. This is a pretty scent. It is mostly floral and musk while it's wet, with a hint of citrus and tea. I get the lily and carnation primarily. It gets kind of sharp and slightly soapy as it dries, probably as the lily and tea get stronger and come to the front. Dry, it is mostly sharp floral tea. I liked it more in the wet stage, I think, but it is pretty.
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“I was scarcely hid when a young girl came running towards the spot where I was concealed, laughing, as if she ran from someone in sport. She continued her course along the precipitous sides of the river, when suddenly her foot slipped, and she fell into the rapid stream. I rushed from my hiding-place and with extreme labour, from the force of the current, saved her and dragged her to shore. She was senseless, and I endeavoured by every means in my power to restore animation, when I was suddenly interrupted by the approach of a rustic, who was probably the person from whom she had playfully fled. On seeing me, he darted towards me, and tearing the girl from my arms, hastened towards the deeper parts of the wood. I followed speedily, I hardly knew why; but when the man saw me draw near, he aimed a gun, which he carried, at my body and fired. I sank to the ground, and my injurer, with increased swiftness, escaped into the wood. This was then the reward of my benevolence! I had saved a human being from destruction, and as a recompense I now writhed under the miserable pain of a wound which shattered the flesh and bone. The feelings of kindness and gentleness which I had entertained but a few moments before gave place to hellish rage and gnashing of teeth. Inflamed by pain, I vowed eternal hatred and vengeance to all mankind. But the agony of my wound overcame me; my pulses paused, and I fainted.” The reward of my benevolence: boneflower, olive blossom, white sandalwood, clary sage, Himalayan cedar, and oakmoss. Boneflower is tuberose as far as I know, and that's the most obvious note on me, freshly applied. Just behind that is the olive blossom and white sandalwood. Fifteen minutes later, the sandalwood is most prominent, along with a musky note and a bit of the clary sage. At this stage it's very sweet and woody-herbal. On final dry-down, the tuberose comes to the forefront again, so much so that it overshadows the other notes. I don't get any oakmoss from this blend at all, the cedar doesn't appear as more than just a hint, and I'm hoping aging will bring those out more. All in all, it's a rather feminine tuberose/sandalwood blend that reminds me of a very classic, classy perfume - in fact this would be freaking gorgeous on a woman, but it'll probably end up being too feminine for me even with some age on it.
