kebechet Report post Posted November 19, 2014 HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, BPAL! Happy birthday to my oldest (and orneriest!) child, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab!(Wait… does this mean BPAL is about to enter puberty?!) Twelve years. We could not possibly have come this far without the help of our tribe… The friendships – the /family/ - that I have because of BPAL has enriched my life in ways I never could have imagined. I can’t emphasize how much that means to me. Thank you for enabling me to give life to my vision, and for sharing my love of so many bizarre, horrible, beautiful, macabre, goofy, and terrible subjects.Thank you for your kindness, your support, and for your friendship. Thank you for sharing your triumphs, joys, loves, and sorrows with us, and for giving me the gift of a massive extended family. I don’t have words for how important our community is to me. Thank you. With all of my love, and in no particular order...Thank you, Brian, for being the best partner and friend I could possibly have. You are Virgo Prime, and as I have said before – without you, BPAL would be an abstract set of drifting Piscean ideas. Thank you for all the hard work, blood, sweat, and tears that you grind out to keep our insane Rube Goldberg machine running. I love you, and I am grateful for your friendship and love. Ted, I love you. Hear my soul speak: the very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service. (It’s true: I even remember what socks you were wearing that fateful day.) You are my heart, my soulmate, my bright morning, and I love you more with every breath I draw. Thank you, my Lilith, my little heart, my merry muse. Every moment with you inspires me, and I am grateful and honored to be your mother. Thank you, Chrissy, for being the best of all possible assistants, in this universe or any other. Thank you for your boundless creativity, your patience, and your infallible Gemini plate-spinning skills. You are an amazing person, I am grateful to you for everything you do, and I love you. Thank you, Jacquelynn, for all of your hard work, dedication to keeping production flowing, and ingenuity in all things. Thank you for everything you do to keep our wheels turning. You are a wonder!Thank you, Lisa, for your wit and wisdom, for your kindness and patience, and for the pleasure of your friendship. You are a saint, and I love you!Thank you, Piolet, for being an oasis of calm, no matter how crazy things get here! I am so thankful for you and for all you do for us!Thank you to Sue and Del at Dark Delicacies for… everything. Just everything. Thank you for providing a second home for Black Phoenix, thank you for your time, patience, and energy during our crazy events, and thank you for being the most wonderful of friends and the greatest grandparents a little demoness could possibly ask for! I love you! Thank you, Ashley, for being such a tremendous help at Trading Post. You are brilliant – an amazing person – and I am grateful for all that you do! Thank you, Sara, for all the love, passion, and dedication that you imbue into every BPAL event. I am grateful for all you do, and for your huge heart and elegant artistry. You are a wonderful person, and it is a joy being your friend. Love you! Kaitlin, you are a phenomenon. There are no words for how grateful I am for all of your help, for your patience, for your kindness, and for your friendship. You are an absolute saint, and a truly beautiful person. I love you, wumman! My love, thanks, and eternal gratitude to my sisters, the moderators and admins at bpal.org. You are dearest to my heart, the best of friends, and my sisters in every sense of the world except bloodline. Thank you for being my confidants, for holding my hand when my heart is heavy, and for sharing my joy when life is goin’ pretty alright. I love you guys. Thank you, Shana, for always being there for me! Thank you for your effervescent humor, bright cheer, and limitless enthusiasm. You are a force of nature! I love you!Thank you, Forest, for being you. Your compassion and nobility of spirit is an inspiration, and I’m truly thankful for our friendship. I love you, fartface.Thank you, Em, for always being there for me, for always having my back, and for being an absolutely amazing friend. I value your wisdom and counsel so, so much. Thank you. I love you! Thank you, Ali, for being my living, breathing Chicago (Manhattan) Manual of Style. Thank you for always being there for me, for being a constant source of inspiration and aid, and for ensuring that my words don’t come out like asdkjfhaslkjdhflsakjhdflkajshsnert. You are wonderful, and I love you. Thank you, Tom, for everything you do to help us while we’re on the road, and thank you for doing all you can to integrate Black Phoenix into your work. I love you so, so much, and I’m grateful for our friendship!Thank you to Jen, Lisa, Tom, Sara, Lilith, Kat, Chrissy, Michael, Donna, Andra, Ali, Courtney D., Courtney W., Val, and Maggie for making this year’s travelling Snake Oil show possible. Thank you so much for all the hard work you put into the events, and for being there for us. We couldn’t do it without you. Thank you, Lisa T., for single-handedly reviving Dirty South Will Call. You are one of the most amazing women I know, and I love you. Thank you, Jen and Karyn, for resurrecting bpal.org. Without your efforts, the forum would have died a horrible, much-lamented death. You have no idea how grateful I am. I love you. Thank you, Donna, for babysitting BPAL again! Thank you for always making me laugh, and for giving me much-needed hugs whenever I’m down. I love you more than words can say! Thank you, Andra, for keeping my fires lit, and for being such a true and amazing friend. I love you so much!Thank you, Courtney, for being my New England Sister! Thank you for all of your generosity and kindness! Your love makes Black Phoenix stronger, brighter, and more suffused with joy. I love you! Huge amounts of love and HUGE amounts of gratitude to Laura Hall and all the wonderful people at Laika studios. Your generosity and kindness is beyond measure.Thank you to Thomas, Melissa, Chandra, Kat (and Thomas Jr!) at Century Guild. You are wonderful people, and I love you!Thank you to Neil Gaiman, Jim Jarmusch, Peter S. Beagle, Kelly Sue DeConnick, Terry Pratchett, Carolyn Hennesy, Terry Moore, Mike and Christine Mignola, George Perez, Peter David, Molly Crabapple, Mark Waid, Thomas Negovan, Storm Constantine, Matt Wagner, Jim Henson Productions, Brian Pulido, Joseph Michael Linsner, Gris Grimly, George RR Martin, Clive Barker, Mark Miller, David Mack, Gail Potocki, Erin Morgenstern, and Ysanne Spevak for giving Black Phoenix the opportunity to interpret your work.Thank you to the noble souls at the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund and the Hero Initiative. You are an inspiration.Thank you, Charles, for being an inspiration and a true friend. Thank you, CP, for being an incredible friend. Your kind soul and radiant spirit illuminates everything and everyone you touch.Love and thanks to the artists that have lent us their talent: Adam Hughes, Alicia Dabney, Julie Dillon, Emma Rios, Madame Talbot, Quique Alcatena, Jennifer Rodgers, Manda Lander, Keri Newton, Nick Pavik, Tanya Bjork, Andrew Fogel, Brian Kessinger, Abigail Larson, Aidan Casserly, and Sarah Coleman!Love and thanks to Think Geek, Century Guild, the Mütter Museum, Haute Macabre, Heretic Salon, Whole Foods, Pretty Indulgent, Healthy Living, and Dark Delicacies for giving our products a home in your stores!Love and thanks to the bloggers, journalists, magazines, and other media outlets that taken the time to write about Black Phoenix. Honestly, I cannot thank you enough.And last but certainly not least, I’d like to thank my ancestors, all the gods (both celestial and infernal), the House Ghost, and anyone else that might be looking out for me. I wrote this many years ago, and it’s just as true today as it was then:‘Thank you for sharing our joy and for standing with us during difficult times. The family that has grown around BPAL is like no other in the world. Every time I wander into the forum, I see people supporting one another in times of need, showing selfless kindness and offering support to one another… to me, you all are models of emotional generosity and true friendship, and it is truly an honor to be a part of your lives. I cannot express my gratitude enough. Thank you for celebrating the beauty of living with us, and for holding our hands during times of stress and sorrow. This year has been turbulent for just about everyone we know. It’s been a hard year filled with challenges and hidden lessons, but none of it is insurmountable because we all have this tremendous, genuinely loving family. Thank you.’ THANK YOU! And without further ado, the Anniversary scents! There is a happy spot, retired in the first East, where the great gate of the eternal pole lies open. It is not, however, situated near to his rising in summer or in winter, but where the sun pours the day from his vernal chariot. There a plain spreads its open tracts; nor does any mound rise, nor hollow valley open itself. But through twice six ells that place rises above the mountains, whose tops are thought to be lofty among us. THE GROVE OF THE SUN Here is the grove of the sun; a wood stands planted with many a tree, blooming with the honour of perpetual foliage. When the pole had blazed with the fires of Phaethon, that place was uninjured by the flames; and when the deluge had immersed the world in waves, it rose above the waters of Deucalion. No enfeebling diseases, no sickly old age, nor cruel death, nor harsh fear, approaches hither, nor dreadful crime, nor mad desire of riches, nor Mars, nor fury, burning with the love of slaughter. Bitter grief is absent, and want clothed in rags, and sleepless cares, and violent hunger. No tempest rages there, nor dreadful violence of the wind; nor does the hoar-frost cover the earth with cold dew. Immortally vibrant olive, black pine, and bay laurel shimmering with rivulets of fresh olibanum sap. LIVING No cloud extends its fleecy covering above the plains, nor does the turbid moisture of water fall from on high; but there is a fountain in the middle, which they call by the name of "living;" it is clear, gentle, and abounding with sweet waters, which, bursting forth once during the space of each month, twelve times irrigates all the grove with waters. Clear water touched by a hint of honeyed pale rose, Sicilian lemon, and lily of the valley. Here a species of tree, rising with lofty stem, bears mellow fruits not about to fall on the ground. This grove, these woods, a single bird, the phoenix, inhabits,--single, but it lives reproduced by its own death. It obeys and submits to Phoebus, a remarkable attendant. Its parent nature has given it to possess this office. When at its first rising the saffron morn grows red, when it puts to flight the stars with its rosy light, thrice and four times she plunges her body into the sacred waves, thrice and four times she sips water from the living stream. POURING STRAINS OF SACRED SONG She is raised aloft, and takes her seat on the highest top of the lofty tree, which alone looks down upon the whole grove; and turning herself to the fresh risings of the nascent Phoebus, she awaits his rays and rising beam. And when the sun has thrown back the threshold of the shining gate, and the light gleam of the first light has shone forth, she begins to pour strains of sacred song, and to hail the new light with wondrous voice, which neither the notes of the nightingale nor the flute of the Muses can equal with Cyrrhæan strains. But neither is it thought that the dying swan can imitate it, nor the tuneful strings of the lyre of Mercury. Red benzoin and frankincense with honey myrtle, osmanthus blossom, and coconut milk. VENERABLE PRIESTESS OF THE WOODAfter that Phoebus has brought back his horses to the open heaven, and continually advancing, has displayed his whole orb; she applauds with thrice-repeated flapping of her wings, and having thrice adored the fire-bearing head, is silent. And she also distinguishes the swift hours by sounds not liable to error by day and night: an overseer of the groves, a venerable priestess of the wood, and alone admitted to thy secrets, O Phoebus. An incense of myrtle leaf, sweet bay, white myrrh, stacte, and the golden frankincense. THIS WORLD, WHERE DEATH REIGNSAnd when she has now accomplished the thousand years of her life, and length of days has rendered her burdensome, in order that she may renew the age which has glided by, the fates pressing her, she flees from the beloved couch of the accustomed grove. And when she has left the sacred places, through a desire of being born again, then she seeks this world, where death reigns. Full of years, she directs her swift flight into Syria, to which Venus herself has given the name of Phoenice; and through trackless deserts she seeks the retired groves in the place, where a remote wood lies concealed through the glens. Myrrh and black roses. Then she chooses a lofty palm, with top reaching to the heavens, which has the pleasing name of phoenix from the bird, and where no hurtful living creature can break through, or slimy serpent, or any bird of prey. Then Æolas shuts in the winds in hanging caverns, lest they should injure the bright air with their blasts, or lest a cloud collected by the south wind through the empty sky should remove the rays of the sun, and be a hindrance to the bird. SHE PERISHES THAT SHE MAY LIVEAfterwards she builds for herself either a nest or a tomb, for she perishes that she may live; yet she produces herself. Hence she collects juices and odours, which the Assyrian gathers from the rich wood, which the wealthy Arabian gathers; which either the Pygmæan nations, or India crops, or the Sabæan land produces from its soft bosom. Hence she heaps together cinnamon and the odour of the far-scented amomum, and balsams with mixed leaves. Neither the twig of the mild cassia nor of the fragrant acanthus is absent, nor the tears and rich drop of frankincense. To these she adds tender ears of flourishing spikenard, and joins the too pleasing pastures of myrrh. Immediately she places her body about to be changed on the strewed nest, and her quiet limbs on such a couch. Then with her mouth she scatters juices around and upon her limbs, about to die with her own funeral rites. Then amidst various odours she yields up her life, nor fears the faith of so great a deposit. In the meantime her body, destroyed by death, which proves the source of life, is hot, and the heat itself produces a flame; and it conceives fire afar off from the light of heaven: it blazes, and is dissolved into burnt ashes. And these ashes collected in death it fuses, as it were, into a mass, and has an effect resembling seed. From this an animal is said to arise without limbs, but the worm is said to be of a milky colour. A funereal nest of cinnamon and amomum, cassia and acanthus, spikenard and myrrh, three balsams and sweet frankincense. THE PHOENIX, HAVING BURST HER SHELLAnd it suddenly increases vastly with an imperfectly formed body, and collects itself into the appearance of a well-rounded egg. After this it is formed again, such as its figure was before, and the phoenix, having burst her shell, shoots forth, even as caterpillars in the fields, when they are fastened by a thread to a stone, are wont to be changed into a butterfly. A perfume of freedom, regeneration, and renewal: bitter orange and tangerine with warm patchouli, tobacco absolute, glittering amber, and white musk. THE DELICATE AMBROSIAL DEWS OF HEAVENLY NECTAR No food is appointed for her in our world, nor does any one make it his business to feed her while unfledged. She sips the delicate ambrosial dews of heavenly nectar which have fallen from the star-bearing pole. She gathers these; with these the bird is nourished in the midst of odours, until she bears a natural form. But when she begins to flourish with early youth, she flies forth now about to return to her native abode. A celestial nectar redolent of honeysuckle-gilded amber with honeyed fig leaf, golden myrrh, helichrysum, and white cognac. RELICS OF HERSELF Previously, however, she encloses in an ointment of balsam, and in myrrh and dissolved frankincense, all the remains of her own body, and the bones or ashes, and relics of herself, and with pious mouth brings it into a round form, and carrying this with her feet, she goes to the rising of the sun, and tarrying at the altar, she draws it forth in the sacred temple. Peru balsam, myrrh, frankincense, and ashes. SEEDS OF THE POMEGRANATE, LEAVES OF THE POPPYShe shows and presents herself an object of admiration to the beholder; such great beauty is there, such great honour abounds. In the first place, her colour is like the brilliancy of that which the seeds of the pomegranate when ripe take under the smooth rind; such colour as is contained in the leaves which the poppy produces in the fields, when Flora spreads her garments beneath the blushing sky. Her shoulders and beautiful breasts shine with this covering; with this her head, with this her neck, and the upper parts of her back shine. Gleaming pomegranate seed and scarlet poppies. YELLOW METAL WITH MINGLED PURPLE BLUSHESAnd her tail is extended, varied with yellow metal, in the spots of which mingled purple blushes. Between her wings there is a bright mark above, as Tris on high is wont to paint a cloud from above. An armor of gleaming, burnished amber, gold-flecked, brushed with a whisper of wild plum and blackcurrant. A SHINING BEAK OF PURE HORNShe gleams resplendent with a mingling of the green emerald, and a shining beak of pure horn opens itself. Wild green lotus, orris root, bourbon vanilla, white sandalwood, and Egyptian musk. A BRIGHT FLAME BETWEEN TWO JACINTHS Her eyes are large; you might believe that they were two jacinths; from the middle of which a bright flame shines. An irradiated crown is fitted to the whole of her head, resembling on high the glory of the head of Phoebus. A glittering golden amber chypre whose facets reflect bright flickers of cardamom, galbanum, guaiac, neroli, and sharp cedar. A ROSY COLOUR PAINTS HER CLAWS WITH HONORScales cover her thighs spangled with yellow metal, but a rosy colour paints her claws with honour. Scales of gold, rose-tinted with red musk, bourbon geranium, and vanilla absolute. LIGHT AND SWIFT Her form is seen to blend the figure of the peacock with that of the painted bird of Phasis. The winged creature which is produced in the lands of the Arabians, whether it be beast or bird, can scarcely equal her magnitude. She is not, however, slow, as birds which through the greatness of their body have sluggish motions, and a very heavy weight. But she is light and swift, full of royal beauty. Such she always shows herself in the sight of men. Swift joy and bright passion: white lavender, lemon verbena, and elemi. Egypt comes hither to such a wondrous sight, and the exulting crowd salutes the rare bird. Immediately they carve her image on the consecrated marble, and mark both the occurrence and the day with a new title. Birds of every kind assemble together; none is mindful of prey, none of fear. Attended by a chorus of birds, she flies through the heaven, and a crowd accompanies her, exulting in the pious duty. But when she has arrived at the regions of pure ether, she presently returns; afterwards she is concealed in her own regions. But oh, bird of happy lot and fate, to whom the god himself granted to be born from herself! Whether it be female, or male, or neither, or both, happy she, who enters into no compacts of Venus. DEATH IS VENUS TO HERDeath is Venus to her; her only pleasure is in death: that she may be born, she desires previously to die. She is an offspring to herself, her own father and heir, her own nurse, and always a foster-child to herself. She is herself indeed, but not the same, since she is herself, and not herself, having gained eternal life by the blessing of death.Cabreuva and blood red rose with myrrh, cypress, black jasmine, clove, and 7-year aged patchouli.- - - The Phoenixes will be live until January 6, 2015! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
