kebechet Report post Posted October 13, 2006 Happy Friday the 13th! 13 has been reformulated this month. There are thirteen different lucky and unlucky components: cocoa and vanilla beans, Mysore sandalwood, star fruit, orange rind, red amber, fig leaf, mimosa, rooibos tea, bourbon geranium, rose otto, nutmeg, and lavender. This scent is as sexy as a black cat and as much fun as finding a four-leafed clover. Four new plants have bloomed in the Garden: ++ RAPPACCINI'S GARDEN BLACK LILY -- Breathtaking darkness, a vision of grace in shadow. DEVIL'S CLAW -- A yellow-bright and smoky brown-black scent, horned, pronged and strange. LOVE-LIES-BLEEDING -- The velvet flower. A lush, thick, luxuriant bloom, bold and red. SLOBBERING PINE -- Dewy, wet, whiplike and sticky. The Grim Reaper once again graces Funereal Oils with his smiling mug: ++ FUNEREAL OILS THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS -- There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between. "Shall I have naught that is fair?" Saith he; "Having naught but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again," He gazed at the flowers with tearful eye, He kissed their drooping leaves; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. "My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," The Reaper said, and smiled: "Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child." "They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear." And the mother gave, in tears and pain, The flowers she most did love: She knew she should find them all again In the fields of light above. O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, The Reaper came that day; 'Twas an angel visited the green earth, And took the flowers away. A funereal bouquet laid on cemetery grass: longiflorum lilies, white rose, chrysanthemum, and carnation. Two new Love Potions make their debut: ++ LOVE POTIONS LILIUM INTER SPINAS -- I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys. As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters. As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the banquet hall. His banner over me is love. Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples; For I am faint with love. His left hand is under my head. His right hand embraces me. I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, or by the hinds of the field, that you not stir up, nor awaken love, until it so desires. The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills. My beloved is like a roe or a young hart. Behold, he stands behind our wall! He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice. My beloved spoke, and said to me, "Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away. For, behold, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth. The time of the singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree ripens her green figs. The vines are in blossom. They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away." My dove in the clefts of the rock, In the hiding places of the mountainside, Let me see your face. Let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely. Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards; for our vineyards are in blossom. My beloved is mine, and I am his. He browses among the lilies. Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be like a roe or a young hart on the mountains of Bether. Hibiscus syriacus, white sandalwood, lily of the valley, apple blossom, and green fig. THE TEMPTATION -- The Demon, in my chamber high, This morning came to visit me, And, thinking he would find some fault, He whispered: "I would know of thee Among the many lovely things That make the magic of her face, Among the beauties, black and rose, That make her body's charm and grace, Which is most fair?" Thou didst reply To the Abhorred, O soul of mine: "No single beauty is the best When she is all one flower divine. When all things charm me I ignore Which one alone brings most delight; She shines before me like the dawn, And she consoles me like the night. The harmony is far too great, That governs all her body fair, For impotence to analyse And say which note is sweetest there. O mystic metamorphosis! My senses into one sense flow -- Her voice makes perfume when she speaks, Her breath is music faint and low!" An expression of love, adoration, and desire, of beauty that transcends mortal desire and piques the interest of hell itself: attar of rose, calla lily, palmarosa, peach blossom, wisteria, rice flower, and black musk. Mania dances through Excolo, and, at long last, a new perfume joins Diabolus' infernal ho-down: ++ EXCOLO MANIA -- The personification of insanity, Mother of Manes, Goddess of Night Spirits, Mistress of Undeath, She Who Gives Life to the Dead. With Mantus, she rules the Etruscan underworld, and her scent is roiling chaos and churning madness, but because she is the mother of the Lares, benevolent household spirits, her perfume also bears an underlying gentleness, and, like madness, a strange sweetness. Screeching white musk collides with a howl of red musk, with sharp white grapefruit and pale strawberry leaf. ++ DIABOLUS HORREUR SYMPATHIQUE -- From livid skies that, without end, As stormy as your future roll, What thoughts into your empty soul (Answer me, libertine!) descend? — Insatiable yet for all That turns on darkness, doom, or dice, I'll not, like Ovid, mourn my fall, Chased from the Latin paradise. Skies, torn like seacoasts by the storm! In you I see my pride take form, And the huge clouds that rush in streams Are the black hearses of my dreams, And your red rays reflect the hell, In which my heart is pleased to dwell. The perfume of a hellbound soul, gleefully lost to iniquity: blood musk, golden honey, thick black wine, champagne grapes, tobacco flower, plum blossom, tonka bean, oakmoss, carnation, benzoin, opoponax, and sugar cane. Hm. Seems like I’m forgetting something… Ah, yes! The Yuletide update is live! Yes, I know that we’re not even out of autumn yet, and here I am… piling snow and sleet on all of you. We always put the winter scents up early to ensure that people have ample time to order them for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Solstice, Diwali, Shichi-Go-San, Luciadagen, Jongwol Daeborum, Tet, and all other winter holidays. Please note: we respectfully request that any orders you want to receive in time for Christmas be placed by November 20th. (Yes, we know… Christmas isn’t the only holiday in winter, but it is the one that most Westerners are primarily concerned about when it comes to gift-giving issues. No offense intended to anyone, obee kaybee?) And now that I’ve laid down the disclaimers and whatnot, let’s get on to the good part: ++ YULETIDE 2006 BLACK ICE -- Lovely, dangerous, slick, and bitterly cold: chilly white sleet-like notes with a hint of vetiver, a breath of smoky asphalt, and winter wind. THE DARKLING THRUSH -- I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter's dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires. The land's sharp features seemed to be The Century's corpse outleant, His crypt the cloudy canopy, The wind his death-lament. The ancient pulse of germ and birth Was shrunken hard and dry, And every spirit upon earth Seemed fevourless as I. At once a voice arose among The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong Of joy illimited; An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom. So little cause for carolings Of such ecstatic sound Was written on terrestrial things Afar or nigh around, That I could think there trembled through His happy good-night air Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew And I was unaware. The hope of springtime penetrating winter darkness. Snow, darkness, and icy air illuminated by the thrush’s song: warm amber, soft orris, and melancholy violet. HALÔA -- Sacred to both Demeter and Dionysus, this is a celebration of the of the pruning of the vines, the first fermentation of the year’s wine, and of the consecration of the next year’s planting. The service was lead by the heterai and the Eleusinian Arkhontes, and began with the preparation of a banquet that honors Demeter’s bounty and the fertility aspect of Dionysus with pudenda- and phallus-shaped cakes. After the preliminary feast, the magistrates departed, and the heterai held a second rite that consisted of copious wine consumption, ritual symbolic fornication, and formal offerings of incense, grain, and cakes to sacred statues of the deities and to clay images of genitalia. Finally, the magistrates and priests were permitted to rejoin the ritual. A Priest and Priestess bore torches that symbolizes Demeter and her daughter Persephone presided over the final ceremony, which culminated in the ultimate celebration of fertility: an orgy that lasted til dawn. Wine grapes, myrrh, frankincense and olive leaf, and the warm scent of offertory cakes. HERR DROSSELMEYER 2006 -- Magus, toymaker, and Godfather to Klara. An enigmatic man, seemingly somewhat sinister, but bearing a gentle air and a sincere love for children. This scent is dignified, refined, but dark, and hints towards esoteric mysteries and the secrets that tie mechanics to magick. Pipe smoke, sweet leather, woods and linen. JACOB'S LADDER 2006 -- And Jacob went out from Beersheba, and went toward Haran. And he lighted upon a certain place, and tarried there all night, because the sun was set; and he took of the stones of that place, and put them for his pillows, and lay down in that place to sleep. And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it. And, behold, the Lord stood above it, and said, I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac: the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed; And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south: and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed. And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of. And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not. And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven. The meeting of Heaven and Earth: golden amber, galbanum, benzoin, ambrette, rockrose, costus and tonka. JÓLASVEINAR -- The Jólasveinar are the seventy-some offspring of Grýla and Leppalúði, an ogre couple with a taste for chomping naughty children. This impish brood delights in causing discomfort, sowing confusion, and all-out raising hell during the Yule season. Their names are indicative of their malicious intentions -- Strap Loosener, Door Slammer, Window Peeper, Sausage Snatcher, Doorway Sniffer, Icebreaker -- and their creepy natures -- Lamp Shadow, Smoke Gulper, Crevice Imp. The devillish Jólasveinar finally cease their mischief and head for home at Þrettándinn. Their scent is a mishmash of snow, dirt, Icelandic moss, marsh felwort, and the smushed petals of buttercups and moorland spotted orchids, with the barest hint of the scent of pilfered Christmas pastries. KNECHT RUPRECHT -- Von drauß' vom Walde komm ich her; Ich muß euch sagen, es weihnachtet sehr! Allüberall auf den Tannenspitzen Sah ich goldene Lichtlein sitzen; Und droben aus dem Himmelstor Sah mit großen Augen das Christkind hervor, Und wie ich so strolcht durch den finsteren Tann, Da rief's mich mit heller Stimme an. „Knecht Rupprecht”, rief es, „alter Gesell, Hebe die Beine und spute dich schnell! Die Kerzen fangen zu brennen an, Das Himmelstor ist aufgetan, Alt' und Junge sollen nun Von der Jagd des Lebens einmal ruhn; Und morgen flieg ich hinab zur Erden, Denn es soll wieder Weihnachten werden!” Ich sprach: „O lieber Herre Christ, Meine Reise fast zu Ende ist; Ich soll nur noch in diese Stadt, Wo's eitel gute Kinder hat.” „Hast denn das Säcklein auch bei Dir?” Ich sprach: „Das Säcklein, das ist hier; Denn Äpfel, Nuss und Mandelkern Fressen fromme Kinder gern.” „Hast denn die Rute auch bei Dir?” Ich sprach: „Die Rute, die ist hier; Doch für die Kinder nur, die schlechten, Die trifft sie auf den Teil, den rechten.” Christkindlein sprach: „So ist es recht; So geh mit Gott, mein treuer Knecht!” Von drauß' vom Walde komm ich her; Ich muß euch sagen, es weihnachtet sehr! Nun sprecht, wie ich's hierinnen find! Sind's gute Kind, sind's böse Kind? - - - I came here from the forest I tell you, it is a very holy night! All over the tips of the firs I saw bright flashes of golden light; And from above, the gates of heaven I saw with open eyes the Christ-child and as I wander through the dark forest I hear a light voice calling me. "Knecht Ruprecht" it called, "Old man Lift your legs and hurry! Fast! The candles alight the gates of heaven open wide old and young shall rest from the hunt of life and tomorrow I shall fly to earth as it shall be Christmas again!" I said: "O dear master, Christ My trip is almost at an end; It is only this one town / where the children are good". "Do you have your sack with you?" I said: "The sack, it is here; apples, nuts and almonds solemn children do enjoy". "Do you also have your cane?" I said: "The cane, it is here. But only for the bad children, to hit their right rear". The Christ-child spoke: "That is good; So go with god my faithful servant!" I came here from the forest I tell you, it is a very holy night! Speak now how I find it here Are the children good or bad? The snow-covered foliage of the Black Forest and the fruit and woods of apple and almond trees. KRAMPUS -- Anything BUT jolly! Draped with chains and bells, wielding both whip and rod, this rag-clad, horned, red-skinned, soot-covered leering creature is both the companion and the antithesis of rosy-cheeked and ebullient Kris Kringle. He is called by many names, and, in a myriad of cultures, he is seen with different robes and faces, but he is nevertheless always a sinister and fearsome instrument of Santa’s wrath: he wields a switch on all irredeemably naughty children before tossing them into his large black sack and whisking them away. Be good, or Krampus will toss you in a river! Sinister red musk, black leather, dusty rags, and wooden switches. LICK IT AGAIN -- Every holiday season should be full of lewd suggestions and filthy double entendres, right? This is a new take on last year’s Lick It – a peppermint candy cane with an extra jolt of sugar. As always, we have to state: don’t lick perfume. Don’t eat it, drink it, cook with it, or use it in any strange and unforeseen way. Black Phoenix is not responsible for that sort of irresponsible funnybusiness. MIDNIGHT MASS 2006 -- I will wash my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord: That I may hear the voice of thy praise: and tell of all thy wondrous works. I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house; and the place where thy glory dwelleth. Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men: In whose hands are iniquities: their right hand is filled with gifts. But as for me, I have walked in my innocence: redeem me, and have mercy on me. My foot hath stood in the direct way: in the churches I will bless thee, O Lord. In Roman Catholic tradition, the Christmas season begins liturgically on Christmas Eve, though it is forbidden to celebrate the Christmas Mass before midnight. The most devout attend Midnight Mass, celebrating both the Eucharist and the drama of the Nativity. This perfume is a traditional Roman Catholic sacramental incense, most often used during a Solemn Mass. Traditionally, five tears of this incense, each encased individually in wax that has been fashioned into the shape of a nail, are inserted into the paschal candle. This is, of course, represents the Five Wounds of Our Risen Savior. Symbolically, the burning of the incense signifies spiritual fervor, the fragrance itself inspires virtue, and the rising smoke carries our prayers to God. Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, factorem caeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium. Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum, Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula. Deum de Deo, Lumen de Lumine, Deum verum de Deo vero, genitum non factum, consubstantialem Patri; per quem omnia facta sunt. Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis. Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est. Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est, et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas, et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris. Et iterum venturus est cum gloria, iudicare vivos et mortuos, cuius regni non erit finis. Et in Spiritum Sanctum, Dominum et vivificantem, qui ex Patre procedit. Qui cum Patre et Filio simul adoratur et conglorificatur: qui locutus est per prophetas. Et unam, sanctam, catholicam et apostolicam Ecclesiam. Confiteor unum baptisma in remissionem peccatorum. Et expecto resurrectionem mortuorum, et vitam venturi saeculi. Amen. THE SNOW MAIDEN -- The Snow Maiden is the daughter of Spring and Frost: as lovely as the first snowfall, and as striking as a sliver of icicle. Isolated because of her chilly otherworldly nature, and unable to know love, she longed for the companionship and warmth of mortals. One bright, white winter’s day, the Snow Maiden came upon a gentle, handsome shepherd named Lel. She grows fond of him, and beseeches Mother Spring to grant her the ability to feel. Her mother is moved by her daughters plight, and blesses her, but the moment the Snow Maiden is struck by the depth of love she feels for Lel, her heart warms, and she melts. Ylang ylang, osmanthus, spring berries, and daffodil cloaked in hoarfrost. SNOW-FLAKES -- Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow. Even as our cloudy fancies take Suddenly shape in some divine expression, Even as the troubled heart doth make In the white countenance confession, The troubled sky reveals The grief it feels. This is the poem of the air, Slowly in silent syllables recorded; This is the secret of despair, Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded, Now whispered and revealed To wood and field. The radiance and desolation of winter. SOL INVICTUS -- Sane, sol et in cloacam radios suos defert nec inquinatur. A radiant blend of solar oils: golden amber, saffron, heliotrope, hibiscus, citron, frangipani, frankincense, tangerine, mock orange, and orange blossom. STARDUST 2006 -- When the holidays roll around, not everyone has mistletoe, caroling and cookies on their minds. This scent is a paean to celebrating hard: nights covered in glitter and dusted with cocaine, flutes of Cristal clutched in shaky hands, leather and lace, the Spiders From Mars in the background, and twisting, sweaty limbs entangled in dark corners. Hairspray and cigarette smoke is the incense in this temple to decadence, strobe and mirrors replace the devotional candles, and Bolan sings the hymns. This scent is for everyone that has every drifted off into Quaalude-induced reverie to the beat of a tribal 4-on-the-floor: the sound of Mott the Hoople, Sweet, Slade or the Dolls. This scent reflects the futurism, self-indulgence and excess of the Glitter 70’s: champagne, hyacinth, tuberose, ylang ylang and flashing white musk with jonquil, tobacco flower, white sandalwood and a pale poppy. THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT -- Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; And now, -- instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, -- He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, -- that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; -- Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun, And descant on mine own deformity: And therefore, -- since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, -- I am determined to prove a villain, And hate the idle pleasures of these days. Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams, To set my brother Clarence and the king In deadly hate the one against the other: And if King Edward be as true and just As I am subtle, false, and treacherous, This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, -- About a prophecy which says that G Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. Dive, thoughts, down to my soul... Embrace your villainy: balsam, myrrh, mandarin orange, bitter clove, artemesia, rosewood, nutmeg, dark musk, smoke and cypress. YULE -- The Holly King and Oak King each hold sway for half of the year, and engage in an epic, eternal battle at Litha and Yule. In truth, they are each a half of the whole – known by many names: Pashupati, Caerwiden, Herne, Pan, Puck, Cernunnos, the Green Man, the Horned God – and as the Holly and Oak Kings represent the light and dark halves of the year, thus do they also represent the light and dark halves of the deity, and thereby, of ourselves. During the darkness of the year, though it seems cold, barren, and bleak, the earth holds the warmth of life deep within itself, and in the depth of its shadows is the eternal promise of renewal and rebirth. It is Yule, and the Holly King has slain the Oak: blood red holly berry, mistletoe, wild thyme, verbena, cinquefoil, hemp, winter rose, evergreen, frankincense, juniper, and myrrh. And that ain’t all for winter. That’s just all for now. Happy Friday the 13th, ladies and gentlemen! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites