Exactly a year ago that our ship had sailed so to speak, and we bid farewell to Vancouver, with the release of Coal Harbour perfume... In some sense it feels like yesterday, and in others I feel like I'm a completely different person than I was then. So much has happened, I've accomplished so much in just twelve months, that sometimes it feels like twelve years. But whenever I smell one of the many perfumes I've created over these crazy 18 years of my life there, it feels as if not only did I just leave yesterday - but as if I could be there right now. A whiff of perfume is all I need... The other perfumes in the Perfume4aPlace collection, all deliberately dedicated to my favouirte places in Vancouver, include:
Komorebi, which smells like the rainforest in fall - a unique smell that always brings me back to my favourite spots in Stanley Park. Scent of Redcedar and Douglas Fir with decaying moss and sunshine.
Sunset Beach, which is inspired by my favourite beach in Vancouver, practically my 2nd home throughout the summer. But as a scent it is very much a cold weather scent, warming your skin with precious, creamy sandalwood and a hint of exotic flowers.
Lost Lagoon, which is very much a "spring" perfume. The lake where formerly were wetlands and forest, has an adjacent rhododendron garden that is so lovely and magical especially in the springtime when they are in bloom as well as the magnolia trees. This perfume is sweet from the flowers but also has some balancing notes of oakmoss, lemon and bergamot. It could be a retro Chypre but also has a very fresh, modern feel to it.
Coal Harbour, where I would go every morning on a faux commute to work - meditate and clear my head before I settle into my lab or writing work. It smelled especially lovely in the summertime, with the fresh cut grass mingling with jet fuel, and the honeyed scent of linden blossoms hanging from the trees. This is not a perfume for everybody, a marriage of a few very unrelated fragrance families - green, leathery, oceanic. But it works better than it sounds!
To commemorate this moment of finishing a full year circle, I've created today a special page for the Perfume4aPlace Collection. Hope you'll enjoy them at least as much as I do!
Even though most people don't think of water as having a scent - the most favourite nature smells among my clients are that of rain and ocean. This is based on a 15 year long ongoing voluntary data that customers provide me about their fragrance preferences.
I can't imagine what it would be like in summer without the wonderful beaches, lakes and streams. Even summer rains are welcome in my world, as they make the season feel more precious and allows us to continue enjoying greenery and worrying less about forest fires and dreadful droughts. Therefore I'd like to dedicate August's newsletter to water-inspired scents.
There's saline water and freshwater. In a similar manner, water-inspired fragrances can be divided into two: Aquatic and marine. Aquatic perfumes are usually ethereal, light and inspired by water gardens and flowers such as waterlily, lotus and iris and the wet-woods watery quality of cassie as well as the cucumber-like personality of mimosa and violet leaf absolutes. Marine fragrances tend to be more masculine (usually they're a sub-genre of Fougère) and include mineral notes that allude to salt such as ambergris, seaweed, oakmoss and vetiver - and even notes that suggests savouriness, such as parsley, dill, celery and angelica.
Bon Zai is perhaps the first aquatic perfume I've created, and the only one that has absolutely no saltiness to it. I often suggest it to clients who like the smell of rain, because it has the same freshness and crisp qualities the air has when it rains. It's a quite, non-dramatic, peaceful scent. Think about gentle West Coast rain in a Zen garden - no thunder or lightning, only soft rain on pine needles.
Since 2009, with the launch of Hanami, water has been a recurring thread in my perfume creations. And as you will soon see, I often combine the qualities of freshwater and saline water in the same composition - which gives it a rather sheer quality and a compelling lightness. Although on and of themselves, cherry blossoms are particularly watery - Hanami plays on the theme of wet wood, after spring rain, and that scent mingling with that of cherry blossom and the urban surrounding: metal, wet pavement, and the commotion in and out of the underground train station. The scent is abstract, yet compelling. And for those who are familiar with sakuramochi and brine-preserved sakura and sakura tea - there is also a savoury connotation that balances the otherwise cloying sweetness of the flowers involved, and which makes Hanami perfume even more intriguing.
l'Écume des Jours (2004) was my first watery creation. Inspired by the perfect symmetry and profound beauty portrayed in Boris Vian's most praised novel by the same name. Cheerful Pianola top notes of cassis and freesia lead to Chloe’s deadly Lung Water Lilly. The melancholy base of green moss and watery marine seaweed reflects the tragic conclusion of the tale. l'Écume des Jours is a strange perfume of unusual harmony that inspires appreciation for the simple beauty that is found in all things – especially the Jazz of New Orleans...
And speaking of New Orleans: I also created a perfume that invokes the haunting scents of the Louisiana wetlands with salty seaweed and oakmoss underscoring heady flowers of magnolia, osmanthus, orange blossom and tea rose. There is also Meyer lemon and rosemary that truly cut through the sweetness and add a savoury touch that echoes the salt notes. For a scent so rich with florals, it is surprisingly refreshing, light and easy to wear.
Orcas, the first natural Fougère-Marine fragrance that was nominated for the 2012 Indie FiFi Awards, now celebrates its 5th year anniversary. Inspired by the breathtaking scenery of the Wild Pacific Trail, a place where ocean meets forest and whales blow and sing above the stormy weather. Orcas perfume is an innovative all-natural marine woody, a unique combination of scents from sea and seashore. Brisk and pungent citrus and herbaceous notes suggest ocean breeze and tea-like clarity, and an array of oceanic treasures such as seaweed and ambergris meet seashore and rainforest notes.
My newest perfume, Lost Lagoon is a Chypre with s a powdery-sweet softness from the juxtaposition of amber, orris and magnolia that balances the bite of galbanum, rhododendron leaf and lemon. It is not aquatic per se, but it was inspired by the dreamy Rhododendron Garden that trails along Lost Lagoon. Again, we find a place where the freshwater is very close to the ocean, and this reflects in the perfume as well. The oakmoss contributes the saltiness, but the flowers are luscious and has a watery air to them - the crispness of violet leaf and iris being the main contributors to that effect.
The last bit of cliché I'd like to tackle is that of beach scents. This popular sub-category of Florientals (or Floral Ambery) tends to be fruity, sometimes even cloyingly sweet, and smells very artificial. It is a strange category because it takes after the scents of ancillary products - namely suntan lotion, suntan oil and sunscreen products. These are usually rather chemical concoctions of white flowers and fruit esters over synthetic musks and amber bases, and sometimes even a bit of aquatic smelling compounds. If you love beach, this would smell fantastic to you; but even if you do - too much of a good thing can get a little overwhelming, or boring at best.
What I tried to do with Sunset Beach, is create a perfume that is neither watery nor marine in character, but rather works with the tropical materials in a more authentic way. To start with, the inspiration is driftwood and the fragrant flowers that might bloom near the beach. So it's entered around sandalwood from both Hawaii and India. I've used massoia CO2 as well as handcrafted tinctures of milky oolong tea and pandanus leaf to intensify the milky quality that is sadly lacking in most modern sandalwood oils. And I've used champaca CO2 for its fruity, spicy and incense-like qualities that I find irresistible, and ylang ylang for its fruity esters and creamy-coconutty qualities. Whenever I wear it I feel like I'm on vacation, and I hope you do too.
In the same way that Hanami contrasts urban and natural elements, my upcoming perfume Coal Harbour juxtaposes the smells that co-exists in my oceanside city's harbour: the salty-animatic notes of seaweed and marine animals at low tide with the rank of jet fuel from the aquaplanes. This disturbing contrast (both smells are quite intense, and together they can be very unpleasant, especially when locked up in a bottle!). To soften this blow, I've added notes of fresh cut grass that wafts off Harbour Green Park, as well as pleasant-smelling local tree blossoms, namely linden, elderflowers and balsam poplar buds.
This week I've finally created a batch of Coal Harbour, which I intend to close the Perfume4aPlace series dedicated to my favourite spots in Vancouver. However, the concept of Coal Harbour perfume predated all the other scents. In fact, it was in one of those morning walks about five years ago in Coal Harbour that I knew I would soon have to leave the city. Walking there and watching the aquaplanes take off and land on water I felt a pang of melancholy, knowing how much I love the marine aspect of the city. And so I promised myself to make a Coal Harbour perfume before I leave, as a goodbye present to the place I've called home for nearly 18 years.
This idea of course was the seed of the entire collection. And as the time to leave approached, I began rolling out the scents. I felt reluctant to launch Coal Harbour, because deep inside I knew that would mean the last farewell. So I did this gradually, with one perfume in each season... Komorebi in the fall of 2015, Sunset Beach in the winter of 2016, Lost Lagoon in the spring, and finally Coal Harbour for summer.
The scent is now maturing in the vat - a concoction that echoes the juxtaposition of natural aromas in their urban surrounding, contrasting marine notes, fresh cut grass and linden blossoms with the penetrating aroma of jet fuel.
The perfume is still in the maturing phase, but you can pre-order a sample (or, if you know you like marine-leathery-green scents, an entire bottle in your choice of eau de parfum application - mini splash bottle, roll-on and larger spray bottle.
Back to the drawing board with my Coal Harbour perfume. It seems like the timing could not be more important now with the terrible oil spill. So I return to a perfume that is inspired by the smell of jet-fuel mingled with sundries barnacles and seaweed at low tied. That and some fresh-cut grass. And elderflowers (which are in season again - a whole month earlier than they should).
Another scent that is typical of spring, and unique to these northern parts of the world are more sweet-balsamic notes, some of which I can attribute to the cotton trees, some to a mysterious tree whose flowers I've never seen, but smells almost of vanilla and labdanum combined and always stops me on my tracks overtime I pass by it. Perhaps I shall add some sappy balsam poplar buds absolute to this perfume... Narcissus absolute does not seem like a bad idea either, although I should really keep it for special occasions! It is such a rare essence, and oh so precious. However, with its hay-like, warm-spicy and slightly balsamic attitude, I might just have to dip into that cookie jar once again for the Coal Harbour perfume. And I might as well grab some crystallized-sugar-like liatrix absolute while I'm at it!
Today is the 7th day of Passover, which commemorates the Splitting of the Sea. The Red Sea, that is. A sea that has probably already lost so much of its wildlife thanks to human greed (too much fishing, too much boat traffic, too much garbage in the oceans, and too many tourists stepping on the coral reefs and taking souvenirs that don't belong to them).
There is no way to sugar-coat it. There is no silver lining. My heart goes to all the seals (whom I consider my swimming buddies), the whales, the fish, cormorants, seagulls, geese, mallards and other migrating marine birds; the starfish, jellyfish, crabs, seaweed, muscles and even the scratchy barnacles.
Not to mention - I feel more than a little sorry for myself for needing to abstain from outdoors swimming this summer just because we have an irresponsible government that cares more about money and sucking up to the rich rather than truly investing in sustainable and harmless energy resources (which Canada is blessed with an abundance of).
This post is not intended to make you feel sad, but to make you so angry that me and my fellow Canadians will take to the streets and protest, send Harper and the other criminals in his government massive numbers of emails and letters; and do everything in our power to change the leadership of this country to one that cares about the future of the land, sea, air, wildlife and wellbeing of its citizens.
"1) The federal government took more than 12 hours to notify the city of Vancouver about the spill.
2) A special pollution response boat formerly stationed at the now closed Kitsilano Coast Guard base is sitting empty with no crew at Sea Island base in Richmond. It is designed to deal with this type of spill and could have been at the site in 6 minutes had they not closed the station last year.
3) They have recovered close to one tonne of oil, which is likely less than 10% of the total spill.
4) In the best of circumstances, a successful clean up recovers 10-15% of the oil. So, when the government talks about "world class oil spill response" that's what they're aiming for.
5) Bunker fuel is a viscous liquid that is considered toxic and both an acute and chronic health hazard.
6) Bunker fuel is similar in nature to diluted bitumen, which would be transported by the proposed Kinder Morgan Trans Mountain pipeline and into more than 400 oil super tankers a year through English Bay.
(quote from Jodi Stark)"
Sorry, this is not related to perfume. Oh, I wish I was able to sell a lot more of my products to havethe buying power to save the seas and oceans and keep our blue planet's water clean...
Update on Sunday, April 12th: It's "only" 2.7 tonne of toxic fuel. And there is now only 6 litres that are not recovered. But nevertheless, very discouraging to see the inefficiency of response and lack of coordination from the authorities. Not to mention - without the forced closure of Kitsilano Coast Guard Station (by the Federal Government, lead by Steven Harper) - this could have been avoided if not dealt with much quicker (AKA within 6 minutes rather than 6 hours!).
This thought provoking sculpture by Liz Magor is a great inspiration to me. It's a puzzling piece of the landsacpe that whenever I pass by I ask yourself questions. At the same time, it's very realistic looking - yet it's obviously completely impractical. There is no chance that people actually live there, unless they are stuck inside forever... It's sort of a 1/3 size model of sheds that used to be scattered along this harbour when it was used for harbouring ships... But not quite: It's complete with barnicles and all - and is all silver. In fact, it is made of aluminum, even though it looks like wood. I pass by it a lot in my morning walks in Coal Harbour - sometimes without giving it even a second thought. But now that I'm getting deeper into my perfume inspired by this place, I am finding that in a way it relates to what I'm working on beyond the location.
In my perfumes, I often times need to create an illusion of a certain scent, using completely different material. The natural perfumer's palette is not nearly as versatile as I would like it to be and when attempting to express a concept such as the contract between city and nature (a recurring theme in my perfumes - for example: Hanami) - it's difficult to portray the man-made materials, minerals, etc. without the avant-guarde advantages of modern synthetics. I'd use galbanum as a representation for freshly cut grass (in combination with other notes, of course); vetiver for evoking wet wooden constructions; and who knows what else to emit the scent of hot metal, wet pavement or dusty concrete, rusty iron, or abrasive aluminum.
Creating the impression of something from something else is a challenge. And when there is a challenge I think there is also creativity at its best. I would (metaphorically) open the paint tubes of colours I don't really "like" or gravitate towards: seaweed absolute, fossilized pine resin, even galbanum didn't really used to be a favourite to be honest until I really learned how to use it. So I hope through this experiment I will learn how to embrace the nasty fishy smells of seaweed absolute and the evasive burnt grease notes of fossilized pine resin, and turn them into the beauty that I find in the contrast between the glass towers of the neighbourhood's new developments, the greasy marina and struggling sealife, and the pretty green spaces alongside the seawall, which are full of water-gardens in concrete and encourage the passers by to reflect and relax.
Contrary to most writing rules, I'm opening this post with a question, rather than a statement. Fish oil is one of those things that I always heard awful things about growing up - how awful it tasted, and how my parents (growing up in the 50's) had to swallow it daily.
And here I am finding myself fishing for some oil and spilling half of it on my hands as I try to measure out the right amount. I know it also come in capsules, but I've been swallowing so many anti-inflammatory drugs recently in order to convince a herniated disc to go back to where it belongs; that avoiding more pills, even if it means swallowing some disturbing and smell stuff seems rather appealing.
With it's "great lemony flavour" it actually does not taste all that bad. But it leaves a streak of scent on my fingers no matter how hard I try not to spill. Lemon and fish oil. Sigh... And guess what? I'm finding it strangely appealing. Sort of like a low concentration of calone. Almost like the aquatic men's cologne that's been permeating the elevator in my building for the past week or so (Aqua de Gio or something along these lines).
That lemon and fish scent reminds me of Orcas' interplay between seaweed and lime (although it's not nearly as fishy); and makes a little turn to bring me to the Coal Harbour perfume, juxtaposing rather horrific man-made scents with the delightful nature contrasting it - diesel lawn-mawer and cut grass; ocean breeze and jet fuel; decaying polluted sealife and airy flowering trees...
I promise it will end up being wearable. But it will take a while...
Well, I just went through a lot of trouble typing out a whole blogpost, only to have it entirely deleted by a Flickr hiccup... It was about my Coal Harbour perfume experiment which I unearthed from last year's archived mods.
What originally smelled as rather skunky and morbid, even (the seaweed absolute is an extremely difficult note to work with, and smells like decomposing bodies of seashore lives - seaweed, clams, crabs...) has turned out to be, what I was hoping for.
I place a drop of essence on my wrist, and like a seed in fast-forward motion it sprouts and grows into this luscious garden - Harbour Green, to be precise: fresh cut grass on a summer's day; kelp growing on the rocks underneath the docks; daisies and fuchsias alongside the trail; and somewhere in the very background the whiff of summer-blooming trees - linden and elder; Oh, and is that aquaplane in the background taking off or landing?
And just like the original blogpost, the formula is entirely lost. I have searched high and low and the temporary lab recording card must have slipped out of my formulae sketch book and has grown feet of its own that took it away from all its like-minded friends...
So I will have to wait a long long time before I know if my attempt to revive the Coal Harbour experience is successful or not.
Sigh... The woes of a perfumer's life.
"Bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the air And feather canyons everywhere, i've looked at cloud that way. But now they only block the sun, they rain and snow on everyone. So many things i would have done but clouds got in my way.
I've looked at clouds from both sides now, From up and down, and still somehow It's cloud illusions i recall. I really don't know clouds at all".
In contrast to yesterday's crying skies, bright sunrise graced this morning, improving the moods of the city's inhabitants.
I walked down Bute street for my daily faux "morning commute", and was bemused by the shapes of clouds and vapours on the horizon. Growing up with no TV, there were times when watching the clouds was our most exciting past time - second only to the daily sunset "shows" that coloured the horizon in all imaginable hues.
The rising sun's rays diffused through glass towers and other man-made obstacles to the East. But they can't stop it from making the grass of Harbour Green Park look greener, and the white sails and decks of the yachts at the marina look brighter and more ready to sail.
But strangely enough, it was the sounds of the harbour that captured my heart today. And that's what I want to write about before climbing up to my den and continue my harbour perfume composition. In contrast to the disturbing construction uphill on Bute street, the humming of engines; the crackling of the waves approaching the marina and collapsing against the decks, boats and rocks; the sloshing sounds of the trails left in the wake of marine birds and seaplanes descending onto the water -- embracing these sounds around me assured me that living in the moment knows no fear and embarking on any journey beings with a single step, a single breath and a single pure and simple intention.
Today was a bright winter day. So beautiful that it reminded me of summer - easy to achieve when I'm at the warmth of my home looking at the sunny outdoors with the birds chirping on the tree. As long as I ignore how nakedly leafless the tree is.
And this sun was giving me just enough boost of inspiration to tackle the difficult matter of the Coal Harbour perfume. Those who have followed this blog know I've began working on it a couple of weeks ago. Those who can read my mind know that I've been contemplating this perfume, with mental notes and sketches of accords in my imagination (and recently also my notebooks) since summer 2009.
Artists are restless. The moment one thing nears completion (see: Etrog perfume) it only gives the confidence to approach more difficult projects that were avoided, procrastinated upon or completely neglected for no reason at all. And so with the progress on my Etrog perfume, I felt even more motivated to open the pandora bottle of the "Coal Harbour Accord" I built around seaweed absolute back in January. It was time to make it pretty.
I proceed cautiously and I will do so quietly for now. But what I have explored on blotter strips back in January is taking shape nicely in the bottle, drop by drop. And I've surprised myself when olibanum (frankincense) was calling for attention from the organ, waving to be included in this perfume. I always find it fascinating how one area of study or focus complements another. I've just finished writing about frankincense and it's been on my mind more than usual. And it seems just right in the perfume. Without me ever knowing it will be there. I love when surprises like that happen.
One of my favourite ways to start the day is a little walk in Coal Harbour. Just a few blocks down Bute Street you'll find Harbour Green park and a little aquaplane airport, from which you can take off any time of the day and fly to Victoria, Nanaimo, the Sunshine Coasts and who knows where else...
I call this my little "morning commute", a necessary piece of fake routine that's paramount for the well-being of someone working from their residential space, in a city that never stops raining. It's easy to find excuses to never leave the house (all good ones too - work that needs to be done, errands around the house, and the desire to throw in a good Pilates routine by the fireplace before doing anything else). But this breath of fresh air, the little connection to the world around me (no matter how alienated and cold it might seem from the warmth of my own abode, and never mind that half of the people outside are absorbed in their cellphones).
Coal Harbour is increasingly populated by taller and larger glass towers, which are pretty - but also completely block the sun in the afternoon. That's why I save Sunset Beach for my evening walks... And in summer mornings (which is when the above photo was taken, though it's hard to tell the season from this photograph...), the green grass is dewy and sometimes even intensely fragrant if it was just cut (which it was on the morning when I took these notes).
My favourite part of my faux daily commute is watching the airplanes take off the water, waiting for that exact moment in time and space where the splashy, noisy trail they leave in the water disappears, and they transform from a fast surfing duck into a flying hawk, circling above the harbour before heading to their destination. And of course - this doesn't come without smell either. Jet fuel never smelled sweeter and more exotic then when mingled with the salty air of seaweed drying in the sun at low tide. Animalic, fishy and verging on the disgusting, but smells like music to my nose.
Last night I finally received the missing piece - one raw material that I terribly needed to get started on this perfume: seaweed absolute. Unlike the seaweed oil I have used in New Orleans and Orcas - this one in full strength is quite disgusting actually; unless you think of it as a packet of hijiki seaweed with the potential of becoming a favourite dish...
And so my composing have began, and not on a very positive note, naturally. I added the seaweed absolute along with a few essences that will make the "jet fuel" accord and the result is, ahum, maybe realistic enough to remind one of the real-life source of inspiration - but certainly not what I'd put on before a night on the town. Or any time, for that matter. However, I stopped right at the exact moment before I would waste too much material and started contemplating juxtaposing this horrific accord with other more delicate and refreshing notes of cut grass, linden blossom and such (all of which remind me of Coal Harbour, of course) and I think I'm off to a pretty good start in my adventure. As long as I don't use it as an excuse to not leave the house tomorrow morning...
This ties in nicely to my Autumn Aromas & Fall Flavours series of posts, but is actually part of a joint blog project for the season that Helg at Perfume Shrine has invited us to participate in. Visit the blogs at the bottom of this post to expand your sphere of sensations!
This year I have discovered the sense of touch. Not that I lived without it or wasn't aware of it before; but I feel that I have been re-acquainted with it, and after living my life through my nose for many years, I'm now connecting these sensations with the tactile world... Reading Diane Ackerman's A Natural History of the Senses certainly helped me to notice that and understand better the meaning that the sense of touch plays in my life. There is more to skin than appearance...
And this spills over to my creative efforts of perfumery in surprising ways that I could have not expected - particularly with Zangvil which is due to launch 20.11.2011, on which I will talk about at much length as its release date approaches... For now I'd like to touch upon a few new sensory delights I've discovered recently.
Touch: Wool & Cold Skin Wool, as it turns out, is not always itchy and irritating... And in the Pacific Northwest it is our best friend, hairless creatures that we are... I stumbled upon a rare find - a 2-way stretch wool tights by Metalicus that I can spend the whole day in without feeling the urge to undress or scratch my thighs; and we all know how marvelous Cashmere wool feels, and how little of it is enough to keep us wrapped in warmth... And me and my woolen shorts (often paired with over-the-knee socks and colourful boots) are pretty much inseparable, regardless of how sunny or rainy these fall days may be. They also make me either look very happy or very ridiculous - eitehr way I don't care, because it sure garners smiles from passers by whichever way I go.
The other extreme of fall is that of the dropping temperatures. And while it can be sunny and beautiful out, the water temperatures drop significantly once October rolls in. Not that this stops me from the occasional ocean swim... I find it interesting that my friend Jolanta, who was the first lady that fell for my perfume Zangvil, likened its scent to the experience of swimming in a cold glacier lake up in the Rocky Mountains: An experience that was all about the extremes: bracing cold water contrasted by the dry hot mountain air int he middle of the summer. Perhaps it is that extreme sensation that I crave when I go for my ocean swims. The hot/cold confusion that makes the blood rush and circulate so much faster, making the cold air feel warm, and makes life feel tangible after every cell of my exterior wrap is punctured by an icy needle of ocean water below 15C.
Flavours: Black Cardamom & Star Anise New spicy discoveries include, undoubtedly, black cardamom. But I'm also feeling an increased love for star anise - which has a mysterious yet very sweet and licorice-like taste, using it in both savoury and sweet treats. It's marvelous in Vij's recipe for black chickpeas in date & star anise masala, and it's phenomenal for poaching pears. I'll be posting more recipes using either or both black cardamom and star anise in the next few days (and I have a project on the horizon of a pomegranate & black cardamom chocolate torte).
Culinary Textures: Pear & Quince Notthat these are the only textures I enjoy with food, but they are certainly evocative of the season. The texture of cooked or baked quince is matched only by that of poached pears (which are more delicate - less grainy - though Bosc peras are quite similar). Because quinces are so tough to cut, I usually buy them only once a year. This time around, I'm planning to poach them in red wine, then bake them in a chocolate frangipane tart!
And speaking of pears, for a little taste of heaven, make yourself a a brie & pear sandwich on fresh croissant - begin with spreading a bit of cassis mustard, top with a slice of room-temperature brie cheese, and finish with ripe sliced red Bartlet pear.
Sight: Red I've been avoiding wearing red for at least a couple of years now, for reasons unknown to me. It used to play a huge role in my wardrobe, especially with contrasting black and white... I've moved into the real of cool colours instead - teal, sea blue, kelly green and even electric blue! But fall (and Apothic Red...) is my pitfall for enjoying reds all over again - there is nothing quite as soothing to the eye as Japanese maple leaves at this time of year. A picture is worth a thousand words:
Sound: Acoustic Guitar About anything in my life goes back to skin, somehow... Which might explain why now of all times I'm drawn to guitar music (Flamenco, jazz, blues but especially flamenco).When played by master musicians that are more than just virtuoso, listening to a guitar is about as close as it gets to caressing the skin...
Oh, and I love listening to Rodrigo y Gabriela when I'm doing Pilates. It gets the heart pumping at the exact correct rate!
Scent: Dying Rosehips There is nothing that I like better than start my day with a morning stroll in Coal Harbour as the sun rises. And thankfully, we can still see many sunrises in the autumn, even in Vancouver. There is something soothing about watching the aquaplanes coming in and out of the harbour, leaving a vanishing trail of whiteness in the water as their jet-fuel excrement mingles with intense saltiness of seaweed and clammy odours of sea barnacles drying on the rocks at low tide.
Tonight, as I strolled on the seawall in Coal Harbour and noticed a new scent as I passed by a rose bush, I noticed a new smell: decaying rosehips. Reminiscent of the forest floor's rotting fallen leaves mingled with wine-like fermenting sweetness.
Last But Not Least: Perfume Fall is when I return to old friends such as Mitsouko, who await me patiently while I spend most of my year trying different scents that I'm working on at various stages...
I've been also returning to wearing Agent Provocatuer occasionally after a couple of years of hiatus, and really enjoying a lot its saffron facets and intense, bluntly sexual/animalic personality, saved only for the softness of rose.
And a comfort-scent to turn to is the gourmand Un Crime Exotique (poached pear, this is when you enter again...).
Aside from these three, I've been mostly wearing my own intense killer-tuberose which won't be launched till way later in 2012, and another narcissus perfume I'm working on with costus... Overall, I've been craving costus a lot lately, and I even included some in my creation for the Clarimonde project (you will read more about it over the weekend), which is another thing that is scenting my nightlife (you will see why very soon... Trust me!).
My other olfactory discoveries lies in non other than fine Japanese incense sticks (I'm yet to learn how to warm incense properly koh-doh style) - particularly the one that I'm burning tonight: Fuin Kyara stick that has just arrived in the mail after some major messing-up on behalf of Canada Post (I ordered it in August!) and I'm immensely enjoying its woody, sweet and slightly animalic aroma underlined with earthy, musty nuances and an overall sacredness that reminds me of the effect of burning frankincense - only with much less smoke. The incense keeps changing aromas as it progresses through the stick, which makes me think that it is designed that way...
I've also received a precious gift of hand-rolled Rose Nerikoh from Yuko of Phyto Perfume, and a loose incense blend from Ross Urrere. But these deserve their own post at another day.
Incense is one sure way to connect through our breath and the olfactory world into our subconscious mind and the depth of our heart... But that's already looking like the beginning of another post.
Ayala Moriel, the Nose and the founder of Ayala Moriel Parfums, creates natural artisan and bespoke perfumes that are inspired by her deepest emotions and memories from her childhood landscapes of the Mediterranean.
