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 IF YOU ARE PAYING VIA PAYPAL, please do NOT use our online credit card processor. Place your order through PayPal using the payment address paypal [at] blackphoenixalchemylab [dot] com and fill your order info in the comments field. Please note that all orders, including domestic orders, are currently taking roughly 14-21 business days to process, pack and ship out due to a heavy workload, the process of hand-blending and the nature of our product. All oils are made once they're ordered to ensure freshness. Our shipped-through info is constantly updated in the BPAL Forums.  Pale, luminous grey shimmer ink on black tee. Artwork for Trading Post's Lunacy tee by Jennifer Williamson! Also live this month at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab… IDES OF MARCH 2010 The Ides marked an auspicious time in the Roman calendar. Depending on the month in question, the Ides fell on the thirteenth or fifteenth, and usually marked the Full Moon. As we all know, it was not an auspicious day for Julius Caesar, nor was it fortuitous for H.P. Lovecraft, who also met his maker on this infamous day. Tu quoque, Brute, fili mi! A mixture of springtime greenery and classical Roman cologne: dark musk, spikenard, bergamot, lemon rind and vervain with costus, benzoin, gray amber, cardamom, and white narcissus. The Bards of Ireland return for a limited engagement… ++ LE: THE BARDS OF IRELAND 2010 Irish bards were members of a hereditary caste of learned poets. They were officials of the courts of their chieftains and kings, and served as historians, storytellers, and satirists. They were immersed in the rich history of their clan and country, and learned the intricacies of their craft from birth. Their words held so much power that it was believed that a glam dicing, or satirical incantation, spoken by a bard held the magic of a curse. This series is celebration of great Irish poets and storytellers. Through these poems, we touch the glory, beauty, and grief that permeates the soul of Ireland. THE HARP OF CNOC I'CHOSGAIR Gofraidh Fion O Dalaigh Harp of Cnoc I'Chosgair, you who bring sleep to eyes long sleepless; sweet subtle, plangent, glad, cooling grave. Excellent instrument with smooth gentle curve, trilling under red fingers, musician that has charmed us, red, lion-like of full melody. You who lure the bird from the flock, you who refresh the mind, brown spotted one of sweet words, ardent, wondrous, passionate. You who heal every wounded warrior, joy and allurement to women, familiar guide over the dark blue water, mystic sweet sounding music. You who silence every instrument of music, yourself a sweet plaintive instrument, dweller among the Race of Conn, instrument yellow-brown and firm. The one darling of sages, restless, smooth, sweet of tune, crimson star above the Fairy Hills, breast jewel of High Kings. Sweet tender flowers, brown harp of Diarmaid, shape not unloved by hosts, voice of cuckoos in May! I have not heard music ever such as your frame makes since the time of the Fairy People, fair brown many coloured bough, gentle, powerful, glorious. Sound of the calm wave on the beach, pure shadowing tree of pure music, carousals are drunk in your company, voice of the swan over shining streams. Cry of the Fairy Women from the Fairy Hill of Ler, no melody can match you, every house is sweet stringed through your guidance, you the pinnacle of harp music. Gilded amber, tiare, golden sandalwood, vanilla, cardamom, and tagetes. LITTLE BIRD Traditional Little bird! O little bird! I wonder at what thou doest, Thou singing merry far from me, I in sadness all alone! Little bird! O little bird! I wonder at how thou art Thou high on the tips of branching boughs, I on the ground a-creeping! Little bird! O little bird! Thou art music far away, Like the tender croon of the mother loved In the kindly sleep of death. Night air, wild jostaberry, melancholy thistle, meadowgrass, marsh marigold, and butterwort. THE TRAVELLER Oliver Goldsmith Vain, very vain, my weary search to find That bliss which only centres in the mind: Why have I stray'd from pleasure and repose, To seek a good each government bestows? In every government, though terrors reign, Though tyrant kings, or tyrant laws restrain, How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Still to ourselves in every place consign'd, Our own felicity we make or find: With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel, Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel, To men remote from power but rarely known, Leave reason, faith, and conscience, all our own. A wanderer, poised at the point where three great countries meet, ruminating on government, nationalism, religion, and personal character: boot leather, pipe tobacco, and the dust of soft resins, herbs, and soil-flecked gravel picked on long, solitary travels. The next in our joint series inspired by Neil Gaiman's 15 Painted Cards From a Vampire Tarot is also live (undead) at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Black Phoenix Trading Post: the Priestess.  Black ink on dusty cobalt burnout fabric. The tees are $35, and the tarot card and perfume set is $30. Artwork by the inimitable Madame Talbot! Proceeds from all sales from the Tarot series, both the scent and card set at Alchemy Lab and the tee at Black Phoenix Trading Post, benefit the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund! Also at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, some critters have flown into the Garden of Live Flowers: ++ MAD TEA PARTY: THE GARDEN OF LIVE FLOWERS ROCKING-HORSE-FLY ` -- then you don't like all insects?' the Gnat went on, as quietly as if nothing had happened. `I like them when they can talk,' Alice said. `None of them ever talk, where I come from.' `What sort of insects do you rejoice in, where YOU come from?' the Gnat inquired. `I don't REJOICE in insects at all,' Alice explained, `because I'm rather afraid of them -- at least the large kinds. But I can tell you the names of some of them." `Of course they answer to their names?' the Gnat remarked carelessly. `I never knew them do it.' `What's the use of their having names the Gnat said, `if they won't answer to them?' `No use to THEM,' said Alice; `but it's useful to the people who name them, I suppose. If not, why do things have names at all?' `I can't say,' the Gnat replied. `Further on, in the wood down there, they've got no names -- however, go on with your list of insects: you're wasting time.' `Well, there's the Horse-fly,' Alice began, counting off the names on her fingers. `All right,' said the Gnat: `half way up that bush, you'll see a Rocking-horse-fly, if you look. It's made entirely of wood, and gets about by swinging itself from branch to branch.' `What does it live on?' Alice asked, with great curiosity. `Sap and sawdust,' said the Gnat. `Go on with the list.' Alice looked up at the Rocking-horse-fly with great interest, and made up her mind that it must have been just repainted, it looked so bright and sticky; and then she went on. Shellacked wood, sap, sawdust, and privet. SNAP-DRAGON-FLY `Look on the branch above your head,' said the Gnat, `and there you'll find a Snap-Dragon-fly. Its body is made of plum-pudding, its wings of holly-leaves, and its head is a raisin burning in brandy.' `And what does it live on?' `Frumenty and mince pie,' the Gnat replied; `and it makes its nest in a Christmas box.' Plum pudding, holly, and brandy-soaked raisin with frumenty, mince pie, and a hint of suet. BREAD-AND-BUTTERFLY `Crawling at your feet,' said the Gnat (Alice drew her feet back in some alarm), `you may observe a Bread-and-Butterfly. Its wings are thin slices of Bread-and-butter, its body is a crust, and its head is a lump of sugar.' `And what does IT live on?' `Weak tea with cream in it.' Bread, lightly buttered, with weak tea, cream, and a lump of white sugar. And elsewhere, stories are being told: ++ MARCHEN TOADS AND DIAMONDS There once upon a time a widow who had two daughters. The eldest was so much like her in the face and humor that whoever looked upon the daughter saw the mother. They were both so disagreeable and so proud that there was no living with them. The youngest, who was the very picture of her father for courtesy and sweetness of temper, was withal one of the most beautiful girls ever seen. As people naturally love their own likeness, this mother even doted on her eldest daughter and at the same time had a horrible aversion for the youngest--she made her eat in the kitchen and work continually. Among other things, this poor child was forced twice a day to draw water above a mile and a-half off the house, and bring home a pitcher full of it. One day, as she was at this fountain, there came to her a poor woman, who begged of her to let her drink. "Oh! ay, with all my heart, Goody," said this pretty little girl; and rinsing immediately the pitcher, she took up some water from the clearest place of the fountain, and gave it to her, holding up the pitcher all the while, that she might drink the easier. The good woman, having drunk, said to her: You are so very pretty, my dear, so good and so mannerly, that I cannot help giving you a gift." For this was a fairy, who had taken the form of a poor country woman, to see how far the civility and good manners of this pretty girl would go. "I will give you for a gift," continued the Fairy, "that, at every word you speak, there shall come out of your mouth either a flower or a jewel." When this pretty girl came home her mother scolded her for staying so long at the fountain. "I beg your pardon, mamma," said the poor girl, "for not making more haste." And in speaking these words there came out of her mouth two roses, two pearls, and two diamonds. "What is it I see there?" said the mother, quite astonished. "I think I see pearls and diamonds come out of the girl's mouth! How happens this, child?" This was the first time she had ever called her child. The poor creature told her frankly all the matter, not without dropping out infinite numbers of diamonds. "In good faith," cried the mother, "I must send my child thither. Come hither, Fanny; look what comes out of thy sister's mouth when she speaks. Wouldst not thou be glad, my dear, to have the same gift given thee? Thou hast nothing else to do but go and draw water out of the fountain, and when a certain poor woman asks you to let her drink, to give it to her very civilly." "It would be a very fine sight indeed," said this ill- bred minx, "to see me go draw water." "You shall go, hussy!" said the mother; "and this minute." So away she went, but grumbling all the way, taking with her the best silver tankard in the house. She was no sooner at the fountain than she saw coming out of the wood a lady most gloriously dressed, who came up to her, and asked to drink. This was, you must know, the very fairy who appeared to her sister, but now had taken the air and dress of a princess, to see how far this girl's rudeness would go. "Am I come hither," said the proud, saucy one, "to serve you with water, pray? I suppose the silver tankard was brought purely for your ladyship, was it? However, you may drink out of it, if you have a fancy." "You are not over and above mannerly," answered the Fairy, without putting herself in a passion. "Well, then, since you have so little breeding, and are so disobliging, I give you for a gift that at every word you speak there shall come out of your mouth a snake or a toad." So soon as her mother saw her coming she cried out: "Well, daughter?" "Well, mother?" answered the pert hussy, throwing out of her mouth two vipers and two toads. "Oh! mercy," cried the mother; "what is it I see? Oh! it is that wretch her sister who has occasioned all this; but she shall pay for it"; and immediately she ran to beat her. The poor child fled away from her, and went to hide herself in the forest, not far from thence. The King's son, then on his return from hunting, met her, and seeing her so very pretty, asked her what she did there alone and why she cried. "Alas! sir, my mamma has turned me out of doors." The King's son, who saw five or six pearls and as many diamonds come out of her mouth, desired her to tell him how that happened. She thereupon told him the whole story; and so the King's son fell in love with her, and, considering himself that such a gift was worth more than any marriage portion, conducted her to the palace of the King his father, and there married her. As for the sister, she made herself so much hated that her own mother turned her off; and the miserable wretch, having wandered about a good while without finding anybody to take her in, went to a corner of the wood, and there died. ROSES, PEARLS, AND DIAMONDS Red roses, dazzling crystalline musks, and pearlescent coconut-tinged orris. ++ MARCHEN: AESOP'S FABLES GRIEF AND HIS DUE When Jupiter was assigning the various gods their privileges, it so happened that Grief was not present with the rest: but when all had received their share, he too entered and claimed his due. Jupiter was at a loss to know what to do, for there was nothing left for him. However, at last he decided that to him should belong the tears that are shed for the dead. Thus it is the same with Grief as it is with the other gods. The more devoutly men render to him his due, the more lavish is he of that which he has to bestow. It is not well, therefore, to mourn long for the departed; else Grief, whose sole pleasure is in such mourning, will be quick to send fresh cause for tears. GRIEF Inconsolable: lily of the valley, hyacinth, calamus, muguet, hydrangea, and elemi. PROMETHEUS AND TRUTH Olim Prometheus saeculi figulus noui cura subtili Veritatem fecerat, ut iura posset inter homines reddere. Subito accersitus nuntio magni Iouis commendat officinam fallaci Dolo, in disciplinam nuper quem receperat. Hic studio accensus, facie simulacrum pari, una statura, simile et membris omnibus, dum tempus habuit callida finxit manu. Quod prope iam totum mire cum positum foret, lutum ad faciendos illi defecit pedes. Redit magister, quo festinanter Dolus metu turbatus in suo sedit loco. Mirans Prometheus tantam similitudinem propriae uideri uoluit gloriam. Igitur fornaci pariter duo signa intulit; quibus percoctis atque infuso spiritu modesto gressu sancta incessit Veritas, at trunca species haesit in uestigio. Tunc falsa imago atque operis furtiui labor Mendacium appellatum est, quod negantibus pedes habere facile et ipse adsentio. Simulata interdum initio prosunt hominibus, sed tempore ipsa tamen apparet ueritas. Prometheus, the Titan of forethought and clever counsel, was a divine potter that was assigned the task of molding mankind out of clay. One day, he decided to dedicate his skill to sculpting the form of the spirit Veritas - Truth - so that he would be able to instill men with virtue. As he toiled, he was called away from his workshop by a sudden summons from the King of the Gods. Dolus - Trickery - had recently become one of Prometheus' apprentices, and was left in charge of the workshop in the titan's absence. Dolus used his time in the workshop to create a figure with the same size and possessing the same features as Veritas with his crafty, sly hands. When he was almost finished with his sculpture, which was truly almost identical to Prometheus' work, he ran out of clay to use for her feet. The divine potter returned, and Dolus scurried to his seat, trembling with fear that his master should discover what he had done and punish him. Prometheus was startled by the similarities between the two clay figures and decided he would take credit for both as a testament to his own skill. He put both statues in the kiln, and after they had been fired, he breathed life into them. Veritas walked with measured, steady steps, while her twin was immobile, stuck in her tracks. The imitation Veritas, a forgery and product of deception and artifice, aquired the name Mendacium - Falsehood. Falsehood has no feet: now and again something that is false can start off successfully, but with time, Truth will always prevail. VERITAS The essence of honesty, integrity, and veracity: frankincense, white carnation, angelica, chamomile, and heliotrope. Two new scents join Bewitching Brews: ++ BEWTICHING BREWS THE HARLOT'S HOUSE We caught the tread of dancing feet, We loitered down the moonlit street, And stopped beneath the harlot's house. Inside, above the din and fray, We heard the loud musicians play The "Treues Liebes Herz" of Strauss. Like strange mechanical grotesques, Making fantastic arabesques, The shadows raced across the blind. We watched the ghostly dancers spin To sound of horn and violin, Like black leaves wheeling in the wind. Like wire-pulled automatons, Slim silhouetted skeletons Went sidling through the slow quadrille. The took each other by the hand, And danced a stately saraband; Their laughter echoed thin and shrill. Sometimes a clockwork puppet pressed A phantom lover to her breast, Sometimes they seemed to try to sing. Sometimes a horrible marionette Came out, and smoked its cigarette Upon the steps like a live thing. Then, turning to my love, I said, "The dead are dancing with the dead, The dust is whirling with the dust." But she--she heard the violin, And left my side, and entered in: Love passed into the house of lust. Then suddenly the tune went false, The dancers wearied of the waltz, The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl. And down the long and silent street, The dawn, with silver-sandalled feet, Crept like a frightened girl. The dead are dancing with the dead, the dust is whirling with the dust: angel's trumpet, violet, white sandalwood, oude, copaiba balsam, angelica, white tea, olibanum, and oakmoss. MELIAI Sisters to the Erinyes and the Gigantes, the ash tree nymphs were also born from the union of the blood gushing from Ouranos' castration wounds and Gaia's fertile womb. These nymphs were the mother of the Bronze Race of mankind's third age. Ash manna and ambrosial honey. And there's one new denizen in Diabolus: EKHIDNA This was the divine and haughty Ekhidna, and half of her is a Nymphe with a fair face and eyes glancing, but the other half is a monstrous ophis, terrible, enormous and squirming and voracious, there in earth's secret places. For there she has her cave on the underside of a hollow rock, far from the immortal gods, and far from all mortals. There the gods ordained her a fabulous home to live in which she keeps underground among the Arimoi, grisly Ekhidna, a Nymphe who never dies, and all her days she is ageless. Mother of Monsters, the Eel of Tartarus, Queen of the Dark Forest, Serpent Womb. Consort to Typhon, the Rotting Lamprey was born from the residual scum left behind after from the Great Deluge. All the corruptions of the earth: mandrake, dark myrrh, seaweed, swampy moss, black pepper, pimento, opoponax, tobacco absolute, and tarry clove. Black Phoenix Trading Post is celebrating its 5th anniversary with an epic update… Trading Post is thrilled to present the Return of the Suds - We are proud to present our newest joint-venture: exquisite handmade soaps by Villainess, scented by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. These gloriously luxuriant soaps were created with the finest skin-nurturing ingredients. They are made by hand, from scratch, by the fiercely talented master soaper Brooke Stant, and are generously scented with Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab brews. Each bar is at least 3.5oz (without any water weight), and are cut 1" thick from a 3" square block of soap. The faces of the bars are smooth and bear unique, undulating, surrealistically beautiful swirls and marbles, and the sides are textured and raw, exhibiting the complex landscape of unsculpted handmade soap. As always, no animals were harmed during the creation of this soap, and all products were tested on friends and family. $8.50 per bar! EMBALMING FLUID SOAP A light, pure scent: white musk, green tea, aloe and lemon. The soap: absolutely smooth, sheer, silken lather. PORT ROYAL SOAP Spiced rum and ship's wood mixed with the body-warmed trace of a prostitute's perfume and a hint of salty sea air on the dry-down. The soap: gunpowder-black clay, imported silk, and a thick crust of sea salt. SHUB-NIGGURATH SOAP A blend of ritual herbs and dark resins, shot through with three gingers and aphrodisiacal spices. The soap: absolutely smooth, sheer, silken lather. SNAKE OIL SOAP A blend of exotic Indonesian oils sugared with vanilla. The soap: absolutely smooth, sheer, silken lather enriched with milky kaolin and flecked with blackened vanilla bean. XMVLZENCAB SOAP The family of bee deities that governed creation in the Mayan lands. Their scent is wild honey, black laurel flower, plumeria, and South American ginger. The soap: absolutely smooth, sheer, silken lather drenched in sticky, humectant honey. To celebrate the union, we are offering a few corresponding bath oils for a limited time: ++ LIMITED EDITION BATH OILS EMBALMING FLUID BATH OIL SNAKE OIL BATH OIL XMVLZENCAB BATH OIL The chilled air of winter is harbinger to a limited scent series at Black Phoenix Trading Post: the Great Loves and Tragedies of Ancient Greece. Two doomed duets will appear every month for four months. The first - ++ THE GREAT LOVES AND TRAGEDIES OF ANCIENT GREECE: ECHO & NARKISSOS ECHO Fam'd far and near for knowing things to come, From him th' enquiring nations sought their doom; The fair Liriope his answers try'd, And first th' unerring prophet justify'd. This nymph the God Cephisus had abus'd, With all his winding waters circumfus'd, And on the Nereid got a lovely boy, Whom the soft maids ev'n then beheld with joy. The tender dame, sollicitous to know Whether her child should reach old age or no, Consults the sage Tiresias, who replies, "If e'er he knows himself he surely dies." Long liv'd the dubious mother in suspence, 'Till time unriddled all the prophet's sense. Narcissus now his sixteenth year began, Just turn'd of boy, and on the verge of man; Many a friend the blooming youth caress'd, Many a love-sick maid her flame confess'd: Such was his pride, in vain the friend caress'd, The love-sick maid in vain her flame confess'd. Once, in the woods, as he pursu'd the chace, The babbling Echo had descry'd his face; She, who in others' words her silence breaks, Nor speaks her self but when another speaks. Echo was then a maid, of speech bereft, Of wonted speech; for tho' her voice was left, Juno a curse did on her tongue impose, To sport with ev'ry sentence in the close. Full often when the Goddess might have caught Jove and her rivals in the very fault, This nymph with subtle stories would delay Her coming, 'till the lovers slip'd away. The Goddess found out the deceit in time, And then she cry'd, "That tongue, for this thy crime, Which could so many subtle tales produce, Shall be hereafter but of little use." Hence 'tis she prattles in a fainter tone, With mimick sounds, and accents not her own. This love-sick virgin, over-joy'd to find The boy alone, still follow'd him behind: When glowing warmly at her near approach, As sulphur blazes at the taper's touch, She long'd her hidden passion to reveal, And tell her pains, but had not words to tell: She can't begin, but waits for the rebound, To catch his voice, and to return the sound. The nymph, when nothing could Narcissus move, Still dash'd with blushes for her slighted love, Liv'd in the shady covert of the woods, In solitary caves and dark abodes; Where pining wander'd the rejected fair, 'Till harrass'd out, and worn away with care, The sounding skeleton, of blood bereft, Besides her bones and voice had nothing left. Her bones are petrify'd, her voice is found In vaults, where still it doubles ev'ry sound. A scent shrouded behind a veil: vanilla orchid, amyris, white sandalwood, grey amber, and tuberose. NARKISSOS Thus did the nymphs in vain caress the boy, He still was lovely, but he still was coy; When one fair virgin of the slighted train Thus pray'd the Gods, provok'd by his disdain, "Oh may he love like me, and love like me in vain!" Rhamnusia pity'd the neglected fair, And with just vengeance answer'd to her pray'r. There stands a fountain in a darksom wood, Nor stain'd with falling leaves nor rising mud; Untroubled by the breath of winds it rests, Unsully'd by the touch of men or beasts; High bow'rs of shady trees above it grow, And rising grass and chearful greens below. Pleas'd with the form and coolness of the place, And over-heated by the morning chace, Narcissus on the grassie verdure lyes: But whilst within the chrystal fount he tries To quench his heat, he feels new heats arise. For as his own bright image he survey'd, He fell in love with the fantastick shade; And o'er the fair resemblance hung unmov'd, Nor knew, fond youth! it was himself he lov'd. The well-turn'd neck and shoulders he descries, The spacious forehead, and the sparkling eyes; The hands that Bacchus might not scorn to show, And hair that round Apollo's head might flow; With all the purple youthfulness of face, That gently blushes in the wat'ry glass. By his own flames consum'd the lover lyes, And gives himself the wound by which he dies. To the cold water oft he joins his lips, Oft catching at the beauteous shade he dips His arms, as often from himself he slips. Nor knows he who it is his arms pursue With eager clasps, but loves he knows not who. What could, fond youth, this helpless passion move? What kindled in thee this unpity'd love? Thy own warm blush within the water glows, With thee the colour'd shadow comes and goes, Its empty being on thy self relies; Step thou aside, and the frail charmer dies. Still o'er the fountain's wat'ry gleam he stood, Mindless of sleep, and negligent of food; Still view'd his face, and languish'd as he view'd. At length he rais'd his head, and thus began To vent his griefs, and tell the woods his pain. "You trees," says he, "and thou surrounding grove, Who oft have been the kindly scenes of love, Tell me, if e'er within your shades did lye A youth so tortur'd, so perplex'd as I? I, who before me see the charming fair, Whilst there he stands, and yet he stands not there: In such a maze of love my thoughts are lost: And yet no bulwark'd town, nor distant coast, Preserves the beauteous youth from being seen, No mountains rise, nor oceans flow between. A shallow water hinders my embrace; And yet the lovely mimick wears a face That kindly smiles, and when I bend to join My lips to his, he fondly bends to mine. Hear, gentle youth, and pity my complaint, Come from thy well, thou fair inhabitant. My charms an easy conquest have obtain'd O'er other hearts, by thee alone disdain'd. But why should I despair? I'm sure he burns With equal flames, and languishes by turns. When-e'er I stoop, he offers at a kiss, And when my arms I stretch, he stretches his. His eye with pleasure on my face he keeps, He smiles my smiles, and when I weep he weeps. When e'er I speak, his moving lips appear To utter something, which I cannot hear. "Ah wretched me! I now begin too late To find out all the long-perplex'd deceit; It is my self I love, my self I see; The gay delusion is a part of me. I kindle up the fires by which I burn, And my own beauties from the well return. Whom should I court? how utter my complaint? Enjoyment but produces my restraint, And too much plenty makes me die for want. How gladly would I from my self remove! And at a distance set the thing I love. My breast is warm'd with such unusual fire, I wish him absent whom I most desire. And now I faint with grief; my fate draws nigh; In all the pride of blooming youth I die. Death will the sorrows of my heart relieve. Oh might the visionary youth survive, I should with joy my latest breath resign! But oh! I see his fate involv'd in mine." This said, the weeping youth again return'd To the clear fountain, where again he burn'd; His tears defac'd the surface of the well, With circle after circle, as they fell: And now the lovely face but half appears, O'er-run with wrinkles, and deform'd with tears. "Ah whither," cries Narcissus, "dost thou fly? Let me still feed the flame by which I die; Let me still see, tho' I'm no further blest." Then rends his garment off, and beats his breast: His naked bosom redden'd with the blow, In such a blush as purple clusters show, Ere yet the sun's autumnal heats refine Their sprightly juice, and mellow it to wine. The glowing beauties of his breast he spies, And with a new redoubled passion dies. As wax dissolves, as ice begins to run, And trickle into drops before the sun; So melts the youth, and languishes away, His beauty withers, and his limbs decay; And none of those attractive charms remain, To which the slighted Echo su'd in vain. She saw him in his present misery, Whom, spight of all her wrongs, she griev'd to see. She answer'd sadly to the lover's moan, Sigh'd back his sighs, and groan'd to ev'ry groan: "Ah youth! belov'd in vain," Narcissus cries; "Ah youth! belov'd in vain," the nymph replies. "Farewel," says he; the parting sound scarce fell >From his faint lips, but she reply'd, "farewel." Then on th' wholsome earth he gasping lyes, 'Till death shuts up those self-admiring eyes. To the cold shades his flitting ghost retires, And in the Stygian waves it self admires. For him the Naiads and the Dryads mourn, Whom the sad Echo answers in her turn; And now the sister-nymphs prepare his urn: When, looking for his corps, they only found A rising stalk, with yellow blossoms crown'd. Gently blushing vanilla, haughty opoponax, duosmon, oude, and narcissus. ++ THE GREAT LOVES AND TRAGEDIES OF ANCIENT GREECE: + CLYTIE AND HELIOS HELIOS The Sun, the source of light, by beauty's pow'r Once am'rous grew; then hear the Sun's amour. Venus, and Mars, with his far-piercing eyes This God first spy'd; this God first all things spies. Stung at the sight, and swift on mischief bent, To haughty Juno's shapeless son he went: The Goddess, and her God gallant betray'd, And told the cuckold, where their pranks were play'd. Poor Vulcan soon desir'd to hear no more, He drop'd his hammer, and he shook all o'er: Then courage takes, and full of vengeful ire He heaves the bellows, and blows fierce the fire: >From liquid brass, tho' sure, yet subtile snares He forms, and next a wond'rous net prepares, Drawn with such curious art, so nicely sly, Unseen the mashes cheat the searching eye. Not half so thin their webs the spiders weave, Which the most wary, buzzing prey deceive. These chains, obedient to the touch, he spread In secret foldings o'er the conscious bed: The conscious bed again was quickly prest By the fond pair, in lawless raptures blest. Mars wonder'd at his Cytherea's charms, More fast than ever lock'd within her arms. While Vulcan th' iv'ry doors unbarr'd with care, Then call'd the Gods to view the sportive pair: The Gods throng'd in, and saw in open day, Where Mars, and beauty's queen, all naked, lay. O! shameful sight, if shameful that we name, Which Gods with envy view'd, and could not blame; But, for the pleasure, wish'd to bear the shame. Each Deity, with laughter tir'd, departs, Yet all still laugh'd at Vulcan in their hearts. Thro' Heav'n the news of this surprizal run, But Venus did not thus forget the Sun. He, who stol'n transports idly had betray'd, By a betrayer was in kind repay'd. What now avails, great God, thy piercing blaze, That youth, and beauty, and those golden rays? Thou, who can'st warm this universe alone, Feel'st now a warmth more pow'rful than thy own: And those bright eyes, which all things should survey, Know not from fair Leucothoe to stray. The lamp of light, for human good design'd, Is to one virgin miserly confin'd. Sometimes too early rise thy eastern beams, Sometimes too late they set in western streams: 'Tis then her beauty thy swift course delays, And gives to winter skies long summer days. Now in thy face thy love-sick mind appears, And spreads thro' impious nations empty fears: For when thy beamless head is wrapt in night, Poor mortals tremble in despair of light. 'Tis not the moon, that o'er thee casts a veil 'Tis love alone, which makes thy looks so pale. Leucothoe is grown thy only care, Not Phaeton's fair mother now is fair. The youthful Rhodos moves no tender thought, And beauteous Porsa is at last forgot. Fond Clytie, scorn'd, yet lov'd, and sought thy bed, Ev'n then thy heart for other virgins bled. Leucothoe has all thy soul possest, And chas'd each rival passion from thy breast. To this bright nymph Eurynome gave birth In the blest confines of the spicy Earth. Excelling others, she herself beheld By her own blooming daughter far excell'd. The sire was Orchamus, whose vast command, The sev'nth from Belus, rul'd the Persian Land. Deep in cool vales, beneath th' Hesperian sky, For the Sun's fiery steeds the pastures lye. Ambrosia there they eat, and thence they gain New vigour, and their daily toils sustain. While thus on heav'nly food the coursers fed, And night, around, her gloomy empire spread, The God assum'd the mother's shape and air, And pass'd, unheeded, to his darling fair. Close by a lamp, with maids encompass'd round, The royal spinster, full employ'd, he found: Then cry'd, A-while from work, my daughter, rest; And, like a mother, scarce her lips he prest. Servants retire!- nor secrets dare to hear, Intrusted only to a daughter's ear. They swift obey'd: not one, suspicious, thought The secret, which their mistress would be taught. Then he: since now no witnesses are near, Behold! the God, who guides the various year! The world's vast eye, of light the source serene, Who all things sees, by whom are all things seen. Believe me, nymph! (for I the truth have show'd) Thy charms have pow'r to charm so great a God. Confus'd, she heard him his soft passion tell, And on the floor, untwirl'd, the spindle fell: Still from the sweet confusion some new grace Blush'd out by stealth, and languish'd in her face. The lover, now inflam'd, himself put on, And out at once the God, all-radiant, shone. The virgin startled at his alter'd form, Too weak to bear a God's impetuous storm: No more against the dazling youth she strove, But silent yielded, and indulg'd his love. The searing brightness of the sun: Gum Arabic, frankincense, liquid copal, cistus, neroli, golden cedarwood, and saffron. CLYTIE This Clytie knew, and knew she was undone, Whose soul was fix'd, and doated on the Sun. She rag'd to think on her neglected charms, And Phoebus, panting in another's arms. With envious madness fir'd, she flies in haste, And tells the king, his daughter was unchaste. The king, incens'd to hear his honour stain'd, No more the father nor the man retain'd. In vain she stretch'd her arms, and turn'd her eyes To her lov'd God, th' enlightner of the skies. In vain she own'd it was a crime, yet still It was a crime not acted by her will. The brutal sire stood deaf to ev'ry pray'r, And deep in Earth entomb'd alive the fair. What Phoebus could do, was by Phoebus done: Full on her grave with pointed beams he shone: To pointed beams the gaping Earth gave way; Had the nymph eyes, her eyes had seen the day, But lifeless now, yet lovely still, she lay. Not more the God wept, when the world was fir'd, And in the wreck his blooming boy expir'd. The vital flame he strives to light again, And warm the frozen blood in ev'ry vein: But since resistless Fates deny'd that pow'r, On the cold nymph he rain'd a nectar show'r. Ah! undeserving thus (he said) to die, Yet still in odours thou shalt reach the sky. The body soon dissolv'd, and all around Perfum'd with heav'nly fragrancies the ground, A sacrifice for Gods up-rose from thence, A sweet, delightful tree of frankincense. Tho' guilty Clytie thus the sun betray'd, By too much passion she was guilty made. Excess of love begot excess of grief, Grief fondly bad her hence to hope relief. But angry Phoebus hears, unmov'd, her sighs, And scornful from her loath'd embraces flies. All day, all night, in trackless wilds, alone She pin'd, and taught the list'ning rocks her moan. On the bare earth she lies, her bosom bare, Loose her attire, dishevel'd is her hair. Nine times the morn unbarr'd the gates of light, As oft were spread th' alternate shades of night, So long no sustenance the mourner knew, Unless she drunk her tears, or suck'd the dew. She turn'd about, but rose not from the ground, Turn'd to the Sun, still as he roul'd his round: On his bright face hung her desiring eyes, 'Till fix'd to Earth, she strove in vain to rise. Her looks their paleness in a flow'r retain'd, But here, and there, some purple streaks they gain'd. Still the lov'd object the fond leafs pursue, Still move their root, the moving Sun to view, And in the Heliotrope the nymph is true. Excess of love begetting excess of grief: heliotrope, frankincense, muguet, osmanthus, and neroli. $40 per set. On a lighter note -- The District atmosphere sprays are live! Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Black Phoenix Trading Post are proud to present a scent series representing the people, places, and culture of New Orleans' Storyville, featuring artwork by the inimitable Molly Crabapple. Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is pandering the perfumes, and Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is offering District-themed atmosphere sprays! Lavish bordellos and shady cribs, dazzling jazz, and swinging saloons: bounded by Basin, Iberville, Robertson, and St Louis, Storyville, known to locals as the District, was New Orleans' legal red light district from 1897 to 1917. This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture. Proceeds from every bottle go to Habitat for Humanity: New Orleans. Habitat for Humanity builds houses in partnership with sponsors, volunteers, communities, and homeowner families, whereby families are empowered to transform their own lives, and aids in eliminating poverty housing in the New Orleans area while serving as a catalyst to make decent shelter a matter of conscience and action. $27.50 per 4oz bottle. ++ THE DISTRICT GERTRUDE DIX'S White magnolias, vanilla orchid, and a cascade of champagne. MAHOGANY HALL Polished mahogany and teakwood and swirls of cigar smoke, with deep patchouli, tonka, cardamom, Spanish moss, and bourbon vanilla. PETE LALA'S CAFE Dusty leather, dry cedar and fir, fresh tobacco smoke, and the scent of tucked-away gris gris bags for luck in love, potency, and virility. New general catalogue bath oils are also live! - Recline in pleasurable, tranquil languor, or bathe with intent to stimulate your senses or replenish your joy while utilizing one of our therapeutic oils. Soak in your sins, or wash away all traces of your vices. Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab offers you the best of both worlds, the heavenly and the diabolical, in your bathing experience. Whatever your predilection may be, our blend of softening and replenishing oils, with rosehip, shea, evening primrose, fractionated coconut, and vitamin E, will ensure that you experience the utmost in sublime (or fiendish!) pleasure. Superbly moisturizing without being greasy, lushly scented without being heavy-handed. Paraben & formaldehyde free. No sodium lauryl or sodium laureth sulfate. Labels printed on an Earth-friendly corn biopolymer. Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab does not test on animals. All of our products are tested on friends and family. ++ VICES AND VIRTUES HUMANITAS No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted. - Aesop Carnation, black cherry, wild strawberry, helichrysum, and frankincense. IRA If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow. - Chinese proverb Blood orange, patchouli, and vetiver. ++ THERAPEUTIC BATH OILS HEDONSIM He who allows his day to pass by without practicing generosity and enjoying life's pleasures is like a blacksmith's bellows: he breathes but does not live. - Proverb Awaken all of your senses with a bath that reawakens the passion of the soul. INTENSITY When the sun is shining I can do anything; no mountain is too high, no trouble too difficult to overcome. - Wilma Rudolph For concentration and clarity of thought. This bath helps you banish distractions, and gives you a renewed strength of purpose. GAUDIUM True joy is a serious thing - Seneca Enflame your delight in everyday things, and fill yourself with enthusiasm for life's little joys. New shiny things are also at Black Phoenix Trading Post! -- Graceful handmade Black Phoenix-inspired pendants created by Alicia Dabney. These pendants are exclusive to the Trading Post, and were created for Black Phoenix. They cannot be found anywhere else in all of Heaven and Earth. Each pendant is $39.00US, and comes in a Black Phoenix Trading Post velvet pouch.  Carnaval Diabolique/Triple Dagger: Pendant is a 1" square frame of antique copper with clear glass to cover the artwork, and a hematite drop with a copper daisy embellishment. It is strung on a 1.5mm ball chain that measures 18" and closes with a lobster clasp.  Bat-Woman Pendant is a 40x30 clear acrylic cabochon mounted onto the artwork, with in a two-tone antiqued silver bead ball rim setting. It is strung onto a 1.5mm ball chain that measures 18" and closes with a lobster clasp.  Ligeia Pendant is a 1-7/8" rectangular diamond glass tile over the artwork, and is sealed with a dark backing and diamond glaze. A 1.5mm ball chain that measures 18" and closes with a lobster clasp has been strung onto a silver plated aanraku bail. The current run for each style of pendant is twenty-five pieces. Since each piece is handmade the pendants will come down temporarily as they sell out in order for us to take the time and care necessary to create more. And last, but absolutely not least, Black Phoenix Trading Post is introducing its new kids' line: the Black Phoenix Imp Brigade! Clothing for the wee ones!  Mad Hatter  Poe  Rocking-Horse-Fly  White Rabbit And now for some not-so-happy news… In the four years since our last price increase, we have tried our best to weather escalations in our operational expenses without having to raise our prices again, but we can't anymore. The cost of manufacturing materials, including packaging, labels, bottles, and the components themselves have gone up by an average of 10-30% over the past few years, as have in-house costs such as rent and utilities. Black Phoenix is a family. We strive to pay fair wages to our employees, which include cost of living pay increases and health benefits. Health insurance for our employees has gone up 10% every year since its inception, and in order to provide for our employees as best we can, we gave them the opportunity to add a dental plan. We have not raised our prices since August 3, 2006, and have made every effort to keep the price of our products as low as possible while maintaining diversity and our high standard of quality. We have also done our best to absorb the USPS postal increases. The last time BPAL adjusted our shipping prices was in June of 2007, and there have been three USPS postage hikes since then: May 2008, May 2009, and January 2010. Regrettably, we have to adjust our shipping prices. This is our new shipping grid, effective as of the Lunacy update on February 26, 2010 -- Domestic shipping rates for the US are as follows: Orders totaling up to $150.00: $7.50 …up to $300.00: $12.00 …up to $500.00: $14.00 The International Flat Rate shipping fee is $14.00 for all orders up to 20 bottles (or 240 imps); the rate jumps to $29.00 on orders containing more that 20 items that won't entirely fit in the Flat Rate box. Shipping is free for all orders that exceed $500. For Canadian orders, $12.00 will cover shipments up to 20 items; the price is $21.00 for shipping over 20 items. For orders to Russia and Poland, please email us for a freight quote. One 5ml = 1 item Twelve imps = 1 item Black Phoenix Trading Post is also forced to adjust their shipping rates: Orders weighing up to 1 lbs: $7.50 Orders weighing up to 2 lbs: $10.00 Orders weighing up to 4 lbs: $15.50 Orders weighing up to 6 lbs: $19.00 Orders weighing up to 7 lbs: $22.50 7 lbs + : $30.50 Shipping is free for all orders that exceed $500.00. The following prices will be in effect as of the Lunacy update on March 28, 2010: General Catalogue 5ml: $17.50 Carnaval Diabolique 5ml: $22.50 The Salon 5ml: $28.00 Panaceas 5ml: $28.00 Neil Gaiman series: $26.00 Hellboy series:$26.00 The District: $26.00 Sachs & Violens (Hero Initiative scents): $26.00 Gris Grimly series: $21.00 Dark Delicacies blends will continue vary by series. Price based on components. Single Imp's Ear: $4.00 6 pack of Imp's Ears: $22.00 The price for limited edition oils may vary, but will average $19.50 - $24.00 per 5ml, depending on the cost to manufacture. At this time, we are left with no choice but to bump our prices slightly. I truly hope you see the difficulty of our position; this is the last thing that we want to do. With all my heart, I hope you understand that we don't have a choice in this. We're not raising prices because we want to make more money; we're doing this because we have to in order to keep the business solvent. From the 28 January 2010 update: Happy New Year! Candles Moon is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Black Phoenix Trading Post! CANDLES MOON To-day is the Day of Bride, The serpent shall come from his hole, I will not molest the serpent, And the serpent will not molest me. The serpent will come from the hole On the brown day of Bride, Though there should be three feet of snow On the flat surface of the ground. Moonlight shining on the Quickening Tree, the heat and wax of sacred candles, the milk of ewes, Brigid's blackberry, the sting of keening wind, and the last flutter of the Cailleach's winter snow.  Both the tee and the perfume will be live until February 2, 2010. From the 19 January 2010 update: Love, lust, and tentacles are in the air at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! To celebrate our favorite manufactured holiday, Valentine's Day, we present a vast and varied selection of scents that are sure to please the most ardent romantic and the filthiest libertine. This is, in part, a dirtybird update. There are naughty words in the Limited Edition section, and naughty pictures in the Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements Salon exhibit. Please exercise discretion. But first… The following is a paid advertisement from the Miskatonic Valley Tourism Board: ++ THE MISKATONIC VALLEY IS FOR LOVERS! From the decaying waterfronts of Innsmouth to the sagging gambrel roofs and crumbling Georgian balustrades of Arkham, the Miskatonic Valley is a haven for lovers. This Valentine's Day, take your sweetheart on a stroll through the Valley's picturesque sites of natural beauty, including Billington's Wood, Devil's Reef, the sweeping Cliffs of Kingsport and Hangman's Brook, or dine at one of our many fine upscale restaurants. The Strange High Bistro in the Mist carries a 93 point rating from the Blackwood Survey, and offers marvelous wines from the Zadok Allen Vineyard. Looking for something a little different? The curious cuisine and desolate view at the Steeple are sure to make an impression! In search of the perfect gift? The Miskatonic Valley has much to offer! Dreamy arrangements are the house specialty at Enchanted Wood Florist, and no Valentine's Day is complete without a traditional box of chocolates from the Sugared She-Goat. Need something shiny to catch your mate's eye? Bijou Y'ha-Nthlei and Inganok Jewelers are masters of their craft, and can outfit your loved one with everything from engagement rings to custom-made thousand-pronged blackened Nyarlathotopic atef crowns. Single? Visit Dark Aeons Matchmakers! Now offering speed dating every full moon! Love may be fleeting, but madness is forever! Arkham Sanitarium's visiting hours have been extended for the holiday. Please phone the reception desk for details. This information has been provided by the Miskatonic Valley Tourism Board and the Miskatonic Valley Convention and Visitors Bureau. Iä! Iä! Cthulhu Fhtagn! Promotional artwork provided by Miskatonic University's Professor Julie Dillon, DFA. BIJOUX Y'HA-NTHLEI Innsmouth, MA New England's most exclusive jewelers since 1778. The Darlings first opened their shop in 1772 under the name Lower Innsmouth Ritual Implement and Fancy Goods Emporium, constructing sturdy household wares and cultists tools in their workshop and importing strange and fanciful items from all over the globe and points beyond. In 1777, Prudence Marsh, matriarch of the venerable Marsh family, came to the Darling twins with a request. She had obtained a sizable quantity of a strange metal alloy that her brother had acquired from an extraterrestrial ocean trench by mysterious means. She asked Absalom and Zephania Darling, twin brothers, favored disciples of Dagon, and youngest of the Darling clan-who happened to dabble in metalwork-if they could fashion a set of diadems for ceremonial use in a very important high festival honoring Mother Hydra. The brothers complied, and found that they had found that they had unparalleled natural skill with jewelry crafting, particularly with rare and strange materials. Within a generation, their graceful, fantastic, odd, and provocative bangles, bracelets, pendants, and tiaras were prized the world over by the most illustrious and nefarious princes and priests. To this day, Bijoux Y'ha-Nthlei is still family-owned and operated. Mathematically impossible, curiously irregular adornments fit to please the most discerning collector. A strangely proportioned, opulent, lustrous scent: neroli, Hawaiian ginger, white musk, tarragon, beeswax, heliotrope, yellow rose, oud, coriander, amber, and lime peel. ENCHANTED WOOD FLORIST Arkham, MA Unmatched artistry! Skilled in terrestrial, extra-terrestrial, and dreamscape floristry, these are the only artisans on Earth that are qualified to work with Moon-trees. Please note: the Enchanted Wood Florist will not deliver to any residence or place of business where cats are present. A burst of sweet, strange flowers, luminous Moon-tree sap, and ornamental grasses. THE GILMAN HOUSE HOTEL Innsmouth, MA The quintessential Valley vacation destination! With its distinctive bulging cupola pushing into the Massachusetts skyline, surrounded by gorgeous views of the majestic Manuxet River on the south and captivating swampland on the west, the Gilman House Hotel is an Innsmouth landmark. Built in 1750, this hotel is rich in Miskatonic Valley history, and is heralded as one of the Valley's most romantic getaways. By day, sail with the croaking, baying entities that lurk in the wharves, then come back to your room and bask in the many amenities that the hotel has to offer. Rest under the watchful eye of the Sleeping God, stroll through the boggy, vaporous central gardens, or unwind with your partner at the Gilman's House's renowned 4-star spa, famous for its sea salt scrubs and unique tentacle massage. The Gilman House's central location puts it easy reach of Innsmouth's open confluence of streets, its bustling downtown area, and the wharves, and it is a hop, skip, and jump from the Innsmouth Colony for the Insane. Banquet, convention, and ritual space available! Musty, dilapidated furnishings, peeling paint, swamp gas, and decay. INGANOK JEWELERS Arkham, MA Are you looking for the perfect ring to express your everlasting love? How about an amulet representing your sweetheart's devotion to Zo-Kalar, Hargag Ryonis, Tamash, or Nyarlathotep? Inganok Jewelers carries a vast selection of onyx jewelry, mined in Inganok, designed by the natives of Y'Pawfrm e'din Leng, and crafted by the skilled artisans of Celephaïs! Each piece is as unique as your last psychotic break! Gleaming stone and silver. THE STEEPLE Aylesbury, MA Specializing in mycological delights and housed in a converted church that was once dedicated to Saint Anthony the Abbot, this charming hideaway sits high atop Zaman's Hill and boasts a lovely view of the abandoned village below. Otherworldly fungus, Provençal herbs, and dark, shadowy woods. THE SUGARED SHE-GOAT CHOCOLATIER Arkham, MA Maddeningly addictive! This Valentine's Day, melt your lover's heart, figuratively, with a gift from the Miskatonic Valley's premiere boutique chocolatier! This season's specialty truffles are handmade by subjugated monks from Ghatanothoa's monestary at Mount Yaddith-Gho, under the watchful eye of Mother Shub's high priests. Imported to Arkham from Mu, they are distributed exclusively through the Sugared She-Goat. Iä, Shub-Niggurath, the Malefic She-Goat of Many Sugary Treats! Please note: each truffle is sold separately. Specify which truffle/s you are requesting when ordering if remitting payment via PayPal. DARK CHOCOLATE AND KEY LIME TRUFFLE DARK CHOCOLATE, WHISKEY, AND COGNAC TRUFFLE MILK CHOCOLATE AND MATCHA GREEN TEA GANACHE TRUFFLE MILK CHOCOLATE, COCONUT, CARDAMOM, RUM, AND GINGER TRUFFLE WHITE CHOCOLATE, BLACK RASPBERRY, AND APRICOT CORDIAL TRUFFLE WHITE CHOCOLATE, STRAWBERRY, AND WHITE PEPPER TRUFFLE THE ZADOK ALLEN VINYARD Innsmouth, MA Ut Sementem Feceris Ita Metes. Founded by the Esoteric Order of Dagon, and named after the man encased within the foundation of the winery, this fertile bastion of haphazard viticulture has been providing superb wines to the Miskatonic Valley since 1927. The site of the vineyard has been used for hundreds of years as an abattoir, and this environment lends a peculiar and exceptional terroir to all their wines and liquors. Visitors are welcome to observe Fishmen priests engaged in pigeage once a month. Please contact the vineyard for information on this as well as their scheduled wine tasting events. A deep velvety Cabernet Sauvignon with hints of plum, black cherry, rose petals, coffee bean, and smoky oak. Barrel and bottle aged, with a smooth and spicy hit mid-palate. Hints of Dagon's tarry black incense and clotted blood complete this well-rounded, robust indulgence. And now, back to your regularly scheduled update. Congratulations and be prosperous! METAL TIGER A new year's blessing! Peony, China's national flower, with bamboo for flexibility, plum blossom for perseverance, courage, and hope, tangerine for wealth, orange for happiness, lychee for household peace, pine resin for constancy, golden kumquat and quince for prosperity, narcissus and King mandarin for good fortune, cypress for longevity, and peach fruit and hemp to represent the fourth phase of Wu Xing, with a splash of blazing red of dragon's blood... to help you scare away the rampaging Nian. To counterbalance last year's Ode to Aphrodite, we present an Ode to her lover, the God of War: a series of eleven emboldening, strengthening, aggressive scents that embody dominance, power, conflict, vitality, wrath, vengeance, and sexual potency. Labels for this series were illustrated by Jennifer Williamson. ++ ODE TO ARES AATOS POLEMOIO Insatiate of War Cedar, black currant, and saffron. ANDREIPHONTÊS Destroyer of Men Tonka, benzoin, black sandalwood, and nutmeg. BROTOLOIGOS Murderous Tobacco, wenge, rose geranium, and myrrh. ENKHESPALOS Spear-Wielding Elder wood, leather, blonde tobacco, and cognac. ENYALIOS Lord of War Patchouli, frankincense, olibanum, thyme, cocoa absolute, Peru balsam, oakmoss, and juniper. KHALKOKORUSTÊS Armed With Bronze Champaca, pear, cedar, black pepper, jasmine, and red sandalwood. KHRYSOPÊLÊX Helmed in Gold Caraway, amber, saffron, bergamot, and neroli. MIAIPHONOS Blood-Stained Clove, anise, mandarin, and cumin. RHINOTOROS Skin-Piercing Vetiver, patchouli, white pepper, and grapefruit. THOOS Swift Tangerine, cypress, and white musk. THOUROS Furious Rose otto, lychee, and cistus absolute. From the passion of war, we move to the passion of love and sexual gratification - plus a few paeans to onanism. As always, our offerings during this Season of Schtupping contain adult material, and by clicking through to view the images and purchase our products, you are agreeing that you are a dirty bird who is 18 or older, and that you are permitted by law to view suggestive imagery. Blessed Lupercalia, everyone! The Season of Schtupping is here! ++ LUPERCALIA 2010 ANACTORIA 2010 I feel thy blood against my blood; my pain Pains thee, and lips bruise lips, and vein stings vein. Let fruit be crushed on fruit, let flower on flower Breast kindle breast, and either burn one hour. Why wilt thou follow lesser loves? are thine Too weak to bear these hands and lips of mine? The scent of the throes of violent passion: entangled limbs, teeth on flesh, furiously grasping hands, the taste of blood and sweat. Golden amber, white honey, red currant, daemonorops, kush, and Arabian musk. LUPERCI 2010 Piss off, Saint Valentine! Lupercalia is an ancient Roman celebration, held on February 15th, that kicked in the advent of Spring with a very, very festive purification, fertility and sexuality ritual. The ritual began near the cave of Lupercal on the Palatine, an area sacred to Faunus, as well as Ruminia, Romulus and Remus. During Lupercalia, Vestal Virgins first made offerings of sacred cakes to the fig tree under which the she-wolf suckled the Sacred Twins. A dog and two goats were then offered in sacrifice to Faunus. The blood of the sacrifice was smeared onto two naked patrician youths, who were assisted by the Virgins, and the blood was wiped clean with sacred wool dipped in milk. The youths donned the skins of the sacrificial goats, wielding whips made from the goat skins, and then led the priests and the Virgins around the pomarium, and around the base hills of Rome. This was a ceremony of great happiness and merriment, and was of particular interest to young women: being touched by the goat-whips young men that led the procession ensured their fertility in the coming year. It is believed that, after the initial rite, male participants would draw the name of an available maiden, with whom he spent the rest of the night. This scent is for the Luperci, the Chosen of Faunus, the Brothers of the Wolf: raw, down and dirty patchouli, Gurjam balsam, and essence of Sampson Root sweetened with the heightened sexuality of beeswax, virile juniper, oakmoss, ambrette seed over honey and East African musk. OLISBOS As for old flames and lovers-they're none left. And since Milesians went against us, I've not seen a decent eight-fingered dildo. Yes, it's just leather, but it helps us out. The ancient Greeks sure weren't shy about taking care of business. The port city of Miletus was once famed throughout the Mediterranean as a source of excellent stone, wood, and padded leather dildos. This scent is the celebration of an age-old pastime: polished wood, well-loved leather, and olive oil. THE PERFUMED GARDEN 2010 Under her neck my right hand Has served her for a cushion, And to draw her to me I have sent out my left hand, Which bore her up as a bed. The Perfumed Garden for the Soul's Recreation. This scent is based on a venerable Tunisian perfume that was used to excite the senses, inspire sensuality and inflame passion. Myrrh and Moroccan jasmine with apple peel, Indian sandalwood, myrtle, quince, citron, and thyme poured over soft musk. SAINT FOUTIN DE VARAILLES Echoing the worship of ancient fertility gods, some early Christians attributed the power to grant blessings of reproductive fruitfulness to Christian saints through accidents of folk-etymology. A syncretic saint of questionable origin, he is possibly the result of a merging of the deity Priapus, or Mutinus Mutunus, and the sainted, semi-mythical first bishop of Lyons, Ponthius, often pronounced Fontin by the common folk of France where his veneration was concentrated. Saint Foutin's name is an amalgamation of Pothinus and the verb foutre, which means "to fuck", effectively granting this saint the prerogatives and powers of his predecessor, Priapus. Saint Foutin was said to cure venereal diseases and other genital maladies, grant fruitfulness to women, and restore potency to men. Scrapings of stone from the groin of one of the saint's statues in France was said to cure all sexual ailments. At other shrines, offerings of wine were poured onto the saint's penis, and worshippers molded ex votos in wax shaped to represent their afflicted body parts to leave in his care, either at the foot of his statue or hanging from the roof of his shrine. Beeswax, frankincense, dried rose petals, and a dribble of wine. SIGNIOR DILDO With thanks to Sir John Wilmot. This signior is sound, safe, ready, and dumb As ever was candle, carrot, or thumb; Then away with these nasty devices, and show How you rate the just merit of Signior Dildo. Count Cazzo, who carries his nose very high, In passion he swore his rival should die; Then shut himself up to let the world know Flesh and blood could not bear it from Signior Dildo. A rabble of pricks who were welcome before, Now finding the porter denied them the door, Maliciously waited his coming below And inhumanly fell on Signior Dildo. Nigh wearied out, the poor stranger did fly, And along the Pall Mall they followed full cry; The women concerned from every window Cried, 'For heaven's sake, save Signior Dildo.' The good Lady Sandys burst into a laughter To see how the ballocks came wobbling after, And had not their weight retarded the foe, Indeed't had gone hard with Signior Dildo. A scent of pearls and ivory: orris, violet leaf, narcissus, and Madagascar vanilla. SMUT 2010 After all these years, BPAL is smuttier than ever. Three swarthy, smutty musks sweetened with sugar and woozy with dark booze notes. TWO LOVES I dreamed I stood upon a little hill, And at my feet there lay a ground, that seemed Like a waste garden, flowering at its will With buds and blossoms. There were pools that dreamed Black and unruffled; there were white lilies A few, and crocuses, and violets Purple or pale, snake-like fritillaries Scarce seen for the rank grass, and through green nets Blue eyes of shy peryenche winked in the sun. And there were curious flowers, before unknown, Flowers that were stained with moonlight, or with shades Of Nature's willful moods; and here a one That had drunk in the transitory tone Of one brief moment in a sunset; blades Of grass that in an hundred springs had been Slowly but exquisitely nurtured by the stars, And watered with the scented dew long cupped In lilies, that for rays of sun had seen Only God's glory, for never a sunrise mars The luminous air of Heaven. Beyond, abrupt, A grey stone wall. o'ergrown with velvet moss Uprose; and gazing I stood long, all mazed To see a place so strange, so sweet, so fair. And as I stood and marvelled, lo! across The garden came a youth; one hand he raised To shield him from the sun, his wind-tossed hair Was twined with flowers, and in his hand he bore A purple bunch of bursting grapes, his eyes Were clear as crystal, naked all was he, White as the snow on pathless mountains frore, Red were his lips as red wine-spilith that dyes A marble floor, his brow chalcedony. And he came near me, with his lips uncurled And kind, and caught my hand and kissed my mouth, And gave me grapes to eat, and said, 'Sweet friend, Come I will show thee shadows of the world And images of life. See from the South Comes the pale pageant that hath never an end.' And lo! within the garden of my dream I saw two walking on a shining plain Of golden light. The one did joyous seem And fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids And joyous love of comely girl and boy, His eyes were bright, and 'mid the dancing blades Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy; And in his hand he held an ivory lute With strings of gold that were as maidens' hair, And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute, And round his neck three chains of roses were. But he that was his comrade walked aside; He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight, And yet again unclenched, and his head Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death. A purple robe he wore, o'erwrought in gold With the device of a great snake, whose breath Was fiery flame: which when I did behold I fell a-weeping, and I cried, 'Sweet youth, Tell me why, sad and sighing, thou dost rove These pleasent realms? I pray thee speak me sooth What is thy name?' He said, 'My name is Love.' Then straight the first did turn himself to me And cried, 'He lieth, for his name is Shame, But I am Love, and I was wont to be Alone in this fair garden, till he came Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.' Then sighing, said the other, 'Have thy will, I am the love that dare not speak its name.' Love beyond reach: sunset tones of amber, red musk, and blood orange with three chains of roses, velvet moss, white lilies, crocuses, violets, poppies, blue musk, neroli, angel's trumpet, frankincense, benzoin, and night-blooming flowers. WOMB FURIE In the middle of the flanks of women lies the womb, a female viscus, closely resembling an animal; for it is moved of itself hither and thither in the flanks, also upwards in a direct line to below the cartilage of the thorax and also obliquely to the right or to the left, either to the liver or spleen; and it likewise is subject to falling downwards, and, in a word, it is altogether erratic. It delights, also, in fragrant smells, and advances towards them; and it has an aversion to fetid smells, and flees from them; and on the whole the womb is like an animal within an animal. -- Aretaeus the Cappadocian Oh, that wily womb! Hippocrates and his followers considered the womb a mobile creature, causing mayhem as it writhed its way through a woman's body. Sometimes this ornery organ, due to lack of sexual activity, would create conflicts within a woman's system or would become blocked itself, causing anxiety, nervousness, water retention, and sleeplessness. With the assistance of doctors, nursemaids, hand tools, or, occasionally, self-manipulation, this vexing condition could be alleviated through hysterical paroxysms. Or, as we call it nowadays: orgasm. An itch that needs to be scratched: Snake Oil and three types of honey. Keep on scratching those itches with our third installment of Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements:  Lupercalia, Metal Tiger, Iteru, Yule and Miskatonic Valley scents are $17.50 each, and the Anniversary, Resurrected, and Shunga scents are $20 each. The Anniversary and Yule scents will be live until February 2, 2010. Metal Tiger, The Lupercalias, Ode to Ares, and Valentine's Day in the Miskatonic Valley will be live until March 31, 2010. The Shungas will be live until April 30, 2010. They are the Pictures of Spring, after all. The Dark Delicacies / Black Phoenix Valentine's Day scents are live on the Dark Delicacies web site, and are also available at their brick and mortar shop in Burbank, CA! Black Lace, Black Heart, and Black Death are all vastly different but utterly complementary scents. They can be worn alone, or layered with one another seamlessly. BLACK HEART Sweet pea, vanilla-infused sandalwood, bourbon vanilla, white honey, carnation, pomegranate, Vitis riparia, plum, and cognac. BLACK DEATH East African patchouli, bay, tobacco, golden amber, blackened sandalwood, orange peel, lemon verbena, clove, and a touch of lime. Adorably spooky label artwork by Manda Lander! Dark Delicacies 4213 W. Burbank Blvd. Burbank, CA 91505 888-DARKDEL http://www.darkdel.com/ We are also thrilled to present Black Phoenix collaborations with the Mütter Museum and Space15Twenty! The Mütter Museum was founded to educate future doctors about anatomy and human medical anomalies. Today, it serves as a valuable resource for educating and enlightening the public about our medical past and telling important stories about what it means to be human. The Mütter Museum embodies the College of Physicians of Philadelphia's mission to advance the cause of health, and uphold the ideals and heritage of medicine. Their one-of-a-kind treasures include: The plaster cast of the torso of world-famous Siamese Twins, Chang & Eng, and their conjoined livers Joseph Hyrtl's collection of skulls Preserved body of the "Soap Lady" Collection of 2,000 objects extracted from people's throats Cancerous growth removed from President Grover Cleveland Tallest skeleton on display in North America The Mütter Museum is carrying Ü in their store. Created for the Mütter Museum by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, this scent is a mélange of balsams, leathers, and raw vanilla designed to evoke images of unearthed secrets and dusty, ancient libraries. The College of Physicians of Philadelphia Mütter Museum 19 South 22nd Street, Philadelphia, PA, 19103. http://www.collphyphil.org/MUTTER.ASP Located in Los Angeles, Space 15 Twenty is a unique retail setting, which creates an opportunity for Urban Outfitters to collaborate with creative brands that they find inspiring and interesting. Within the 12,690 square foot Urban Outfitters store, they showcase distinctive designers with a new pop-up shop every month. Each store is connected by an outdoor courtyard, which includes a performance space and adjacent gallery, both of which encourage participation in the curated environment. Aligning with local music, film and art venues, the courtyard and gallery present a rotating cast of musicians and artists. Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab has created two scents exclusively for Space15Twenty: Sweet Life, a luxurious blend of gardenia, pikaki, ylang ylang, and Casablanca lily, and Banshee Beat, a tousled, sexy mix of patchouli, vanilla, and hemp. Space15Twenty 1520 N. Cahuenga Blvd Los Angeles, CA 90028 http://www.space15twenty.com/ Due to component issues, Loviatar is being discontinued, effective immediately. We apologize for the suddenness of this pull, but we have no choice. Please accept our sincerest apologies! Once component issues stabilize, we will be able to confidently resume work on the general catalogue. General catalogue projects will be released once we're sure that any component issues are stable. Thank you for your patience during this challenging time! And last, but certainly not least -- the Black Phoenix Trading Post anniversary update is coming soon! Happiest of Happy Schtupping Days! From the 29 December 2009 update: The Blue Moon will soon be high in the sky, and to celebrate we are presenting the second Blue Moon scent of the month. This one was created by Brian Constantine, and the emphasis is on the moon's influences on the mysteries of the dreamscape. BLUE MOON 2009: BRIAN'S CREATION The spirit of the full moon is capricious, intense and passionate, yet still distant, aloof and cold. Luna herself governs glamours, bewitchments and dream-work, innocent wonder, transient pleasure and delight, the Moment, impulse, mystery and veils. The Blue Moon is one of her rarest manifestations, and this scent is formulated to encapsulate her most complex and profound nature: Mugwort, for psychic sensitivity... Yarrow, for divination through dreams... Styrax and frankincense, for wisdom and noscere... ... with a potent lunar-charged, oneirongenic blend of tolu balsam, moonflower, white musk, delicate woods, star anise, Florentine iris, Clary sage, Roman chamomile, Greek cypress, juniper berry, night-blooming cereus, and a touch of cardamom. This fragrance has been infused with Neptune's pine and grains of paradise to help part veils and spark the imagination. This year, we have two interpretations of Blue Moon. This is Brian's Moon. This scent is $17.50, and will be live until January 2, 2010. We hope that the blue moon will be a harbinger of amazing, wondrous things to come for all of you - and all of us! -- in this new year, and that 2010 is overflowing with joy, bursting with good fortune, punctuated by moments of true peace and tranquility… and that it contains just enough filthiness to make things interesting! Happy New Year, everyone! From the 30 November 2009 update: HOLIDAY SHIPPING NOTICE: In order to receive your Alchemy Lab package by Christmas Eve... Internationals! Please place your order by midnight PST December 2nd. Domestics! Please place your order by midnight PST December 7th. In order to receive your Trading Post Package by Christmas Eve… Internationals! Please place your order by midnight PST December 5th. Domestics! Please place your order by midnight PST December 7th. Black Phoenix Trading Post orders that include the Whirling Wind Moon tee and/or the Blue Moon tee are not guaranteed to arrive in time for Christmas. Lunacy tees and most LE tees do not go into production until we're done taking orders for them, and they take a few weeks to be made. Please bear in mind that we are not responsible for USPS shenanigans. We do promise that we will bust our asses to get you your orders asap. And... please do not take offense at our using Christmas, specifically, as a date marker. It is not meant as an affront to any other holidays, cultural celebrations, or religions. Without further ado… Happy Yuletide, everyone! Whirling Wind is live at BPAL, as are the next scents in the Nile series! WHIRLING WIND MOON Swiftly walk o'er the western wave, Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave, Where, all the long and lone daylight, Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear, 'Which make thee terrible and dear, -- Swift be thy flight! Dreams of joy and fear: swirling dark and airy musks, mogra, plumeria, hyacinth, lily of the valley, dry white sandalwood, gardenia, pale amber, and oakmoss. SEASON OF THE EMERGENCE Month after month the gathered rains descend Drenching yon secret Aethiopian dells, And from the desert's ice-girt pinnacles Where Frost and Heat in strange embraces blend On Atlas, fields of moist snow half depend. Girt there with blasts and meteors Tempest dwells By Nile's aereal urn, with rapid spells Urging those waters to their mighty end. O'er Egypt's land of Memory floods are level And they are thine, O Nile--and well thou knowest That soul-sustaining airs and blasts of evil And fruits and poisons spring where'er thou flowest. Beware, O Man--for knowledge must to thee, Like the great flood to Egypt, ever be. During Peret the Nile's waters retreat, leaving a lush, fertile black silt behind. This is the time of plowing and seeding: crops and herbs were planted and cultivated, and prayers and sacrifices were offered to ensure a bountiful harvest later in the year. The seeds and the seedlings as the sprout forth from the deep black silt: cucumber, flax, wheat, radishes, leeks, sesame, and beans, with thyme, frankincense, chamomile, coriander, spikenard, cumin, hyssop, and juniper. HATMEHIT The Egyptian fish goddess, orginally a deification of the Nile River, the Great Flood, and the Waters of Creation. The scent of the depths of the River, teeming with aquatic life, sanctified by holy herbs. The Blue Moon will be manifesting this December, and we will be offering two interpretations of the event this time around. First, my take on it: BLUE MOON The spirit of the full moon is capricious, intense and passionate, yet still distant, aloof and cold. Luna herself governs glamours, bewitchments and dream-work, innocent wonder, transient pleasure and delight, the Moment, impulse, mystery and veils. The Blue Moon is one of her rarest manifestations, and this scent is formulated to encapsulate her most complex and profound nature: Mugwort, for psychic sensitivity... Calea Zacatechichi, for divination through dreams... Orchid and frankincense, for complexity, wisdom and noscere... ... with a potent lunar-charged, oneirongenic blend of blue musk, exquisite woods, moonflower, Madagascan ylang ylang, Florentine iris, Greek cypress, green tea absolute, palmarosa, cucumber, Clary sage, lavender, lemon balm, and passion fruit. At the end of the month, Brian's expression of the Blue Moon will be going live! The Whirling Wind and Blue Moon tees will be going live at Black Phoenix Trading Post tomorrow, and the next Vampire Tarot scent and card set and matching tee will be going live at BPAL and BPTP later this month! Whirling Wind Moon and all of the Iteru, Yule and Miskatonic Valley scents are $17.50 each, and Blue Moon and the Anniversary and Resurrected scents are $20 each. The anniversary and Yule scents will be live until January 2010. Blue-Moon-Beth-Style and Whirling Wind Moon will be live until December 5, 2009. Blue-Moon-Brian-Style will appear at the end of the month along with December's second full moon. The four Dark Delicacies Yule scents are live on the Dark Delicacies web site, and are available at their brick and mortar shop in Burbank, CA! -- Upon being discharged from his restful stay at Arkham Sanitarium, Del Howison and his wife, Sue, the former archivist and curator of the Cabot Museum in Beacon Hill, opened up a bookstore in Arkham specializing in hard-to-find grimoires, occult treatises, and mystical antiquities. They also cater to the lighter interests of the Valley’s cultists, and carry a vast selection of macabre books, DVDs, and ceremonial memorabilia. Every Saturday at midnight, Sue hosts Tiny Terror Story Time -- including interactive ritual indoctrination for tots AND milk and cookies! Each week features the songs, stories, and rites of a different Outer God or Great Old One! Fifteen years later, they have twelve stores across the Miskatonic Valley, and one in sunny Burbank, CA! STORY TIME AT DARK DELICACIES Heavy oak shelving, cracked leather bindings, incense-soaked parchment, ancient inks, baneful aromatic herbs, and crumbs of spilled sugar-glazed lemon butter cookies that have been accidentally dragged from the kiddie section of the store. SUE’S GREAT OLD PUPPET SHOW Sue’s adorable Cthulhu hand puppets and whirling Nyarlathotep marionettes help kids learn about ancient and terrible extraterrestrial beings! A wacky way to introduce your little ones to forbidden blood-chilling rites! Hot cocoa, tiny marshmallows, white glue, stick-on googly eyes, and felt! In 2000, Del Howison opened the Nameless City Drive-In theatre in Arkham, and eventually expanded to Innsmouth, Dunwich, and Kingsport. While Del focuses on blockbuster horror hits in his theatres, he also shows documentaries of local interest, and hosts the Dylath-Leen Film Festival which showcases the work of both prominent and up-and-coming Miskatonic Valley filmmakers. As a public service, Del provides shuttle transportation to Arkham Sanitarium at the conclusion of each film festival. Classic comedies are shown at the Nameless City Drive-In on the first Monday of every month! Abbot and Costello vs. the Lurking Ineffable Horror from the Depths of Space and Time is always a hit! Due to increased Mi-Go activity in recent months, convertibles and Minis are gently discouraged at the drive-in. THE NAMELESS CITY DRIVE-IN THEATRE Chrome bumpers gleaming in cold, exhaust-fume laden night air. Soggy foliage and crushed grass dotted with popcorn that has been crushed under rubber tires. Leather seats moist with skin musk and the sweat of groping hands fumbling under ceremonial robes. THE SNACK HUT Hot popcorn covered in a glowing golden liquid substance, fried things, and artificially flavored cherry frozen carbonated beverages, extra-loaded with high-fructose corn syrup. During this year’s Miskatonic Valley Yuletide Faire, Sue will be running the kid’s crafts booth, and Del will be showing holiday cinematic favorites throughout the season, including “It’s a Gibbering, Seething Life”, “All I Want For Yuletide is Bleating Madness”, and “’Twas the Night Before the Profane Horror Manifested”! (The oils are devoid of felt, googly eyes, high fructose corn syrup, artificial cherry flavoring, glue, and tentacles. Don’t be silly!) The Dark Delicacies scents are only available through Dark Delicacies! No imps ears exist for this series. From the 18 November 2009 update: Happy birthday, BPAL! Holy shit: we're seven years old! The past seven years have been some of the best years of my life, and I owe much of that to the family that has grown around Black Phoenix. Thank you to my brother and partner, Brian, who spearheads Production, and without whom Black Phoenix would not exist. I love you! Thank you to my husband, Teddy o'the Trading Post. Your love and support keeps me afloat, and you inspire me like no other. I love you! Thank you, Kathy, my right hand woman. You keep me sane, and you find my head for me when its not screwed on properly, and truly, I don't know what I'd do without you. I love you! Thank you, Jacquelynn, our general manager, whose gentle Virgo whip cracking ensures that the wheels of our strange machine run smoothly. I love you! Thank you to Bill, the patron saint of customer service. Your beautiful heart shines through your emails. I love you! Thank you to our production staff, who form the backbone of this company. You enable us to share our creations with the world, and I am eternally grateful. I love you! Thank you to the mods and administrators of bpal.org for being the best friends anyone could ask for. You take on a difficult, often thankless, job with love and dedication beyond the call of duty. Thank you for being my proofreaders, my sanity check, and my foundation. You are amazing women, and I love you! Thank you to Sue and Del at Dark Delicacies for giving BPAL a home away from home, for always being there for us, and for being wonderful grandparents to the Little Demoness. I love you! (And so does Lilith!) Thank you to the artists that work with us, Jennifer Williamson, Alicia Dabney, Julie Dillon, Madame Talbot, Quique Alcatena, Jennifer Rodgers, and Sarah Coleman, for bringing our scents to life! I love you! Thank you to Lisa and the crew at Whole Foods in Roswell, GA for giving their all to Dirty South will call! You are amazing people, and I love you! Thank you to the Mütter Museum, Le Pink, Whole Foods, Urban Outfitters, Wildilocks, and Healthy Living for giving our products a home in your stores! Thank you to the bloggers, journalists, magazines, and other media outlets that have shown interest in Black Phoenix, and have taken the time to do writeups on our shops! Thank you for your time and energy; it means the world to us! Thank you to Neil Gaiman for affecting me like no other author, for being such a supportive friend, and for allowing me the pleasure of interpreting your beautiful, witty, soul-moving stories through scent. I love you! Thank you to Amanda Palmer, Terry Pratchett, Terry Moore, Mike and Christine Mignola, George Perez, Peter David, Molly Crabapple, Mark Waid, Ross Ritchie, Jill Thompson, Brian Pulido, and Gris Grimly for giving us such all such joy through the beauty of your art, and for giving Black Phoenix the opportunity to interpret your work. Thank you to the kind people at the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund and the Hero Initiative. You help those who cannot help themselves, and you are an inspiration to us all. Thank you to all our clients. Thank you for being there for us, and for each other, throughout all these years. Thank you for sharing our happiness and holding our hands through times of grief, loss, and transition. Thank you for celebrating pivotal points in our lives with us… the challenges of our rites of passage and difficult times of change… beautiful moments… weddings and births… and comforting us in times of sorrow. Thank you for wit, your kind hearts, and your friendship. Without the amazing, beautiful people we have met through and because of Black Phoenix, this would all be ashes. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share all that I love, all that I fear, and all I desire with all of you. I love you! Now, before I start weeping like a loon, let's get on with the new stuffs… The BPAL 7th Anniversary scents are live! ++ THE ALCHEMICAL PHOENIXES GOLD PHOENIX La Lumiere sortant des Tenebres. The noblest of the alchemical metals, representing the splendor of the Sun. It is the essence of pure consciousness and represents the divine, creative force present in all spirit and all matter. It is the symbol of the goal of perfection, and is capable of radiating all the colors of dawn and dusk while still retaining its unblemished purity. Three ambers representing common gold, astral gold, and elementary gold, with verbena, angelica, and heliotrope that has been purified by frankincense and Gum Arabic. SILVER PHOENIX Lustrous, pliable, delicate, and malleable, silver is as mysterious and radiant as the moon. Silver requires darkness in order to react, and receives light passively. Opalescent orris shimmering through a blend of mallow, moonflower, wild pear, iris, starwort, juniper, and mugwort. COPPER PHOENIX Copper's lustrous, rose-tinted Venusian energy inspires creativity and assists in balancing spiritual polarities. It can be utilized as a literal mirror, and a mirror reflecting the beauty of the soul. Rose-infused dark amber, with sweet orange, honey, cardamom, patchouli, apricot, pink pepper, and red sandalwood. IRON PHOENIX Blood and fire: a magnetic metal that burns brightly and easily. Iron illustrates the metabolic process and the need to control primal, brutal urges without quelling the fire of passion. Dragon's blood and dark, dense metal, black pepper, clove, red ginger, basil, and myrrh. TIN PHOENIX A malleable, pale metal with a flexible, crystalline structure that speaks out with a thunderous voice when bent or shaken. It is representative of the breath of life and the storminess of the spirit. Pale metals, crackling ozone, hyssop, white mint, tonka, and lemongrass. QUICKSILVER PHOENIX Mercury exists in three states of matter, just as Hermes, its patron, was the one deity that could move freely through the three classical worlds. In one of the alchemical processes, nitric acid, also called aqua fortis, is combined with Mercury, which then separates into a bed of red crystals and a cloud of red vapor. This experiment symbolizes the soul's transcendence over the polarities of mercy and severity, heaven and earth, light and darkness, life and death. Mercury is capable of forming complex compounds and amalgamating with elements that normally will not bind with others. Combined with phosphor and charged with electricity, it produces light. Cinnabar and silvery liquid droplets of mastic, white sandalwood, elemi, and lavender. LEAD PHOENIX Solid, heavy, and resistant to corrosion, lead is the first and oldest of the Seven Metals. It is the metal of ammunition and tombs, radiation shields and solder. Though it represents limitations and boundaries, it also transcends them when combined with other elements to create Philosophical Mercury. A dark and lusterless scent that contains the potential for limitless spiritual radiance: tobacco absolute, hemlock, plum, cypress, styrax, olibanum, and wild lettuce. And this year's resurrected scents… ++ 2009 RESURRECTED BLENDS HOD Glory and Majesty, Kokab, God's Judgement. SPOOKY A maddeningly festive blend of warm, buttery rum, cocoa, coconut, vanilla and a jolt of peppermint. It's a sweet, decadent, slightly silly scent, reminiscent of rum-laced holiday cookies. Much is also new at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Several new claw polishes are live at the 'Post, inspired by BPAL's Bordello, Croquet, Malediction, Sed Non Satiata, and two Phoenix Steamworks-inspired colors: Smokestack and Robotic Scarab. A tee commemorating BPAL's annual Resurrection of the Smells is live!  Artwork by Jennifer Williamson! And last, but not least, Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples locket is live!  Based on illustrations by Julie Dillon for the Snow, Glass, Apples chapbook produced by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. We are tying up one remaining loose end with the Inquisition, and it will be live later this week! Please mark it on your calendars: Dark Delicacies will be hosting the final Black Phoenix trunk show of 2009 on November 29, 2009 from 12pm til 3pm! Details to come! Happy Friday the 13th! From the 28 October 2009 update: Peach Moon is ripening early at Alchemy Lab and Trading Post! Both will be live on their respective sites until November 5, 2009! PEACH MOON Smoke hangs on the stream, The peach-trees shed bright leaves in the water, Sound drifts in the evening haze Dew-covered peach blossom, white tea, moonlit musk, night-blooming jasmine, ho wood, and chrysanthemum.  Black Phoenix Trading Post has gone live with the next installment of Neil Gaiman's 15 Painted Cards From a Vampire Tarot: the Magician!  Bring home your memories of this year's Miskatonic Valley Yuletide Faire with a stylish commemorative tee! Doubles as a cultist robe in a pinch, and machine washable, too!  The Miskatonic Valley Yuletide Faire Official Event Tee! What else is new at Black Phoenix Trading Post? The Yule Bath Oils and Yule Atmosphere Sprays are back! - with a new addition! ++ YULE BATH OILS ICE PRINCE BATH OIL As beautiful and cold as a December storm. Crystalline musk, winter lily, bergamot, plum, and frozen pine boughs. PROSERPINA BATH OIL For thine came pale and a maiden, and sister to sorrow; but ours, Her deep hair heavily laden with odour and colour of flowers, White rose of the rose-white water, a silver splendour, a flame, Bent down unto us that besought her, and earth grew sweet with her name. The emergence of light in darkness. Frozen pomegranate and a hint of nocturnal blossoms. WINTER MAIDEN BATH OIL Ice-rimed innocence. The blush of youth, frozen for eternity. Snow-laden woods, iced blackberry and bergamot, white rose, and crystallized amber. HOLIDAY STRESS RELIEF BATH OIL Relax, revive, restore. Peppermint, spearmint, geranium bourbon, lavender, clary sage, white amber, juniper berry, laurel leaf, coriander, opoponax, and mandarin. ++ YULE ATMOSPHERE SPRAYS KRAMPUSUMZÜGE Dirt-spattered rags, rusted chains, and dry switches against a backdrop of black fir and snow. SNOW WHITE A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. Snow White and Krampusumzüge are $25 each. Ice Prince, Proserpina, and Winter Maiden are $30 each, and Holiday Stress Relief is $40. The Yule sprays and bath oils are available until December 15, 2009. BPTP's District collaboration with Molly Crabapple will be ready to go live in a few weeks time, and the Inquisition is coming up as soon as we iron out some of the kinks! Black Phoenix Trading Post customer service will be offline from Thursday, October 28 til Tuesday, November 3. Ted will be able to resume answering your questions and flirting long-distance on the 3rd. I, personally, will be offline, too, but BPAL customer service will be available and production and shipping at both BPAL and BPTP will continue as usual. A gentle reminder: West Coast Will Call will not be on the full moon in November, as many of our will call staffers will be out of town for the holiday. WCWC has been moved to Wednesday, November 4, 7-10pm. The theme this month is Dia de los Muertos! Costumes welcome and encouraged! We will be holding a canned food drive this month, so if you bring canned food, we will give you something in return. East Coast Will Call is at Whole Foods Market, aka Harry's Farmer's Market, in Roswell, GA on November 8, from 5-8. If you have any questions, please email us at willcall@blackphoenixalchemylab.com. Please note: there is a slight delay in shipping for BPAL and BPTP orders at this time. We're experiencing the holiday crunch, but we are endeavoring to get everything you order into your hands as quickly as possible! We hope everyone has a safe, yet stimulating, Halloween, a blessed All Saints Day, and a glorious Dia de los Muertos! From the 21 October 2009 update: A very merry early Yule to all! First things first… while the Alchemy Lab update is going live now, the Trading Post update, including the Inquisition, winter seasonal offerings, the District Atmosphere Sprays, and the District tee, and the Vampire Tarot Magician tee, is slightly delayed. In the interests of staying sane, we're separating the two by a few days, but I'm planning to have the BPTP update live by the weekend. Fear not -- we'll be working our asses off getting all the Trading Post stuff ready to go! And without further adieu… the Yuletide LE's are here! ++ YULETIDE 2009 BUT MEN LOVED DARKNESS RATHER THAN LIGHT The world's light shines, shine as it will, The world will love its darkness still. I doubt though when the world's in hell, It will not love its darkness half so well. The world will love its darkness: cistus labdanum, ginger, East Indian patchouli, pimento berry, oakmoss, saffron, smoky vanilla, sage, myrrh, and bitter blove. DED MOROZ Grandfather Frost! Accompanied by his granddaughter, Snegurochka, the Snow Maiden, he bestows gifts to virtuous and hard-working people, rewarding their decency and integrity, and punishes those who are lazy, shiftless, and unkind, killing their fields with frost, cracking the trunks of their trees, and destroying their homes. The first incarnation of Father Frost was not at all benevolent. He was the personification of the darkest aspects of winter, winter's destruction incarnate. He kidnapped unruly children, and slew people capriciously by freezing them to death. Light, darkness, kindness, and malice: golden amber, white amber, redwood, teak, bois du rose, sage, tree moss, and snow. DIABLE EN BOÎTE The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd The chastity he wounded. Cytherea, How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily, And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch! But kiss; one kiss! Rubies unparagon'd, How dearly they do't! 'Tis her breathing that Perfumes the chamber thus: the flame o' the taper Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids, To see the enclosed lights, now canopied Under these windows, white and azure laced With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design, To note the chamber: I will write all down: Such and such pictures; there the window; such The adornment of her bed; the arras; figures, Why, such and such; and the contents o' the story. Ah, but some natural notes about her body, Above ten thousand meaner moveables Would testify, to enrich mine inventory. O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her! And be her sense but as a monument, Thus in a chapel lying! Come off, come off: As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard! 'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly, As strongly as the conscience does within, To the madding of her lord. On her left breast A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops I' the bottom of a cowslip: here's a voucher, Stronger than ever law could make: this secret Will force him think I have pick'd the lock and ta'en The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end? Why should I write this down, that's riveted, Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down Where Philomel gave up. I have enough: To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it. Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning May bare the raven's eye! I lodge in fear; Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here. One, two, three: time, time! - Iachimo, Cymbeline Act II, Scene 2 There are few things more disturbing than a Jack in the Box. A strangely sinister, unnerving holiday scent: redwood, bitter clove, tonka, hemp accord, and tobacco with peach blossom, black currant, and red musk. EL DIA DE LOS REYES 2009 The Day of Kings, the Celebration of the Magi. In Mexico, on January 6th, children place their shoes by their windows. If they have been good during the previous year, the Wise Men tuck gifts into their shoes during the night. Hot cocoa with cinnamon, coffee, and brown sugar. EVENING CICADAS AND RED PEPPERS It is so, so cold! A cicada in the eaves With the red peppers. Frost-limned, ice-bejeweled branches, scattered blood-red maple leaves, a few camellia petals, red peppers, and nacreous, multi-colored musks that shimmer like gently-beating cicada wings. FAUNALIA Held on December 5th, this is the festival of the Horned God of the Forest, one of the di indigetes of Rome, god of cattle, fertility, wild, untamed nature, and prophecy through dreams. The scent of a thick, starlit, unspoiled forest, with a burst of wild musk, opobalsamum, black bryony, mandragora, and hemlock. THE FIRST SOFT SNOW The first soft snow! Enough to bend the leaves Of the jonquil low. Heavy drifts of snow blanketing winter's narcissus. THE FRUIT OF PARADISE 2009 While Persephone visited the realm of Hades, she tasted one single pomegranate seed, an act which compelled her to remain connected to the Land of the Dead for all eternity. Demeter's grief over her beloved daughter's absence that brings on the bleakness and barrenness of the winter months. The Fruit of Paradise, the Nectar of Death: bittersweet pomegranate, nurtured and cultivated in the hollow darkness of the Underworld. GACELA OF THE DARK DEATH I want to sleep the sleep of the apples, I want to get far away from the busyness of the cemeteries. I want to sleep the sleep of that child who longed to cut his heart open far out at sea. I don't want them to tell me again how the corpse keeps all its blood, how the decaying mouth goes on begging for water. I'd rather not hear about the torture sessions the grass arranges for nor about how the moon does all its work before dawn with its snakelike nose. I want to sleep for half a second, a second, a minute, a century, but I want everyone to know that I am still alive, that I have a golden manger inside my lips, that I am the little friend of the west wind, that I am the elephantine shadow of my own tears. When it's dawn just throw some sort of cloth over me because I know dawn will toss fistfuls of ants at me, and pour a little hard water over my shoes so that the scorpion claws of the dawn will slip off. Because I want to sleep the sleep of the apples, and learn a mournful song that will clean all earth away from me, because I want to live with that shadowy child who longed to cut his heart open far out at sea. Terebinth pine, pitch, and clove. HYPOTHERMIA Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm! How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? Bone-chilling, heart-stopping cold. IN WINTER IN MY ROOM In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm -- Pink, lank and warm -- But as he was a worm And worms presume Not quite with him at home -- Secured him by a string To something neighboring And went along. A Trifle afterward A thing occurred I'd not believe it if I heard But state with creeping blood -- A snake with mottles rare Surveyed my chamber floor In feature as the worm before But ringed with power -- The very string with which I tied him -- too When he was mean and new That string was there -- I shrank -- "How fair you are"! Propitiation's claw -- "Afraid," he hissed "Of me"? "No cordiality" -- He fathomed me -- Then to a Rhythm Slim Secreted in his Form As Patterns swim Projected him. That time I flew Both eyes his way Lest he pursue Nor ever ceased to run Till in a distant Town Towns on from mine I set me down This was a dream. Pink, lank, and warm: grapefruit, yuzu, tuberose, peony, violet leaf, pikaki, Indian frankincense, and tonka. JOULUMUORI Old Lady Christmas, the sweet, smiling wife of Finland's Joulupukki. Her scent invokes the comforts of Christmastime and the warmth of love and cheerful companionship: a glowing hearth, luumukiisseli, riisipuuro, and sima. LICK IT TIL IT'S STICKY The stickiest thing you shouldn't lick this winter. 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 2009 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. NES GADOL HAYA SHAM But not long after the king sent a certain old man of Antioch, to compel the Jews to depart from the laws of their fathers and of God: And to defile the temple that was in Jerusalem, and to call it the temple of Jupiter Olympius: and that in Gazarim of Jupiter Hospitalis, according as they were that inhabited the place. And very bad was this invasion of evils and grievous to all. For the temple was full of the riot and reveling of the Gentiles: and of men lying with lewd women. And women thrust themselves of their accord into the holy places, and brought in things that were not lawful. The altar also was filled with unlawful things, which were forbidden by the laws. And neither were the sabbaths kept, nor the solemn days of the fathers observed, neither did any man plainly profess himself to be a Jew. But they were led by bitter constraint on the king's birthday to the sacrifices: and when the feast of Bacchus was kept, they wore compelled to go about crowned with ivy in honour of Bacchus. And there went out a decree into the neighboring cities of the Gentiles, by the suggestion of the Ptolemeans, that they also should act in like manner against the Jews, to oblige them to sacrifice: And whosoever would not conform themselves to the ways of the Gentiles, should be put to death: then was misery to be seen. For two women were accused to have circumcised their children: whom, when they had openly led about through the city with the infants hanging at their breasts, they threw down headlong from the walls. And others that had met together in caves that were near, and were keeping the sabbath day privately, being discovered by Philip, were burnt with fire, because they made a conscience to help themselves with their hands, by reason of the religious observance of the day. - The Second Book of the Maccabees, 6:1-11 In order to consolidate his power in Jerusalem and Hellenize the area, the Greek king Antiochus IV Epiphanes outlawed Judaism and ordered the population to worship Zeus and the Hellenic pantheon. As this was anathema to the Jews, they refused, and Antiochus moved to enforce his religious decree by extreme force. Some origin tales say that the dreidel was used at this time as a method by which the Jewish people were able to continue to study the Talmud in secret under the guise of gambling. Now, in addition to being a light gambling game, the dreidel is also a reminder of the strength, devotion, and perseverance of the Jewish people and the mercy of God. One scent in four parts: Nun, the Snake: nuun, nothing. Naḥš, in modern Arabic, means bad luck. Represented by scents of loss and remembrance: opoponax and lemon verbena. Gimel, the Camel: the Ship of the Desert. Represented by scents of abundance, fortitude, and determination: patchouli, heliotrope, pomegranate, and almond. He, the Window: sometimes used to represent the Unutterable Name of God, this is the window in our souls through which God's light touches us. Represented by scents of clarity and piety: frankincense, myrtle, and hyssop. Shin, the Tooth: also stands for Shaddai, one of the names of God. The hand formed into shin acts as a priestly blessing. Represented by scents of strength, generosity, kindness, and benediction: carnation, myrrh, red poppy, and hibiscus. The essences of Nun, Gimel, He, and Shin are blended to become Nes Gadol Haya Sham. NOW WINTER NIGHTS ENLARGE Now winter nights enlarge The number of their hours, And clouds their storms discharge Upon the airy towers. Let now the chimneys blaze, And cups o'erflow with wine; Let well-tuned words amaze With harmony divine. Now yellow waxen lights Shall wait on honey love, While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights Sleep's leaden spells remove. This time doth well dispense With lovers' long discourse; Much speech hath some defence, Though beauty no remorse. All do not all things well; Some measures comely tread, Some knotted riddles tell, Some poems smoothly read. The summer hath his joys And winter his delights; Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, They shorten tedious nights. Shorten those tedious nights with a surge of body heat: vanilla-infused red musk, champaca, petitgrain, ylang ylang, patchouli, nutmeg, honey, galbanum, and traces of caramel. ON DARKNESS 2009 You darkness, that I come from, I love you more than all the fires that fence in the world, for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone, and then no one outside learns of you. But the darkness pulls in everything; shapes and fires, animals and myself, how easily it gathers them! -- powers and people -- and it is possible a great energy is moving near me. I have faith in nights. An embrace: black poppy, lavender, thick black incense, black amber, rose geranium, Brazilian rosewood, and benzoin. THE PEACOCK QUEEN 2009 In dramatic contrast to the soft innocence of Snow White and the dew-kissed freshness of her sister, Rose Red, this is a blood red, voluptuous rose, velvet-petaled, at the height of bloom. Haughty and imperious, vain, yet incomparably lovely to the eye, but thick with thorns of jealousy, pride and hatred. PINK SNOWBALLS A lighthearted winter scent: chilly vanilla rose snowballs! Dainty, soft, and certainly unfit for flinging! THE SEASON OF GHOSTS In Latvia, the Ziemassvetki, or Winter Party, is a celebration of the birth of Dievs, the Sky God and Supreme Ruler of the Latvian pantheon. The two weeks prior to the Ziemassvetki is Ve?u laiks: the Season of Ghosts. Candles are lit to honor the gods and a fire is kept burning throughout the Season, burning away the unhappiness of the previous year so men's spirits can be renewed. At the feast of the Ziemassvetki, places are left as a courtesy to the ghosts, who arrive by sleigh. A scent created to burn away sorrow: bergamot, frankincense, rose geranium, ginger, lemongrass, and blood orange. THE SHIVERING BOY 2009 Cold, cold forever more. A winter storm roaring through empty stone halls, bearing echoes of despair, desolation, and death on its winds. The scent of frozen, dormant vineyards, bitter sleet, and piercing ozone, hurled through labdanum, benzoin, and olibanum. SLEIPNIR At Yule, Odin leads a divine hunting party through the heavens. On Yule Eve, children would fill their boots with sugar, carrots, and straw and place them by the chimneys for Odin's eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, to eat. To repay the children's kindness, Odin would refill the children's boots with sweets or small gifts. Confections spun of hazelnuts, honey, elderberries, and bilberries with a dusting of hay and a bit of carrot. SNOW-FLAKES 2009 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. THE SNOW MAIDEN 2009 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 daughter's 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. SNOW WHITE 2009 A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. SNOWBALL FRACAS This means war. A scent tight with delirious adrenaline. Muddy dirt and frost-covered moss from the trenches rubbed into winter clothes and snow impact overspray. This scent hits like the sting from those dang icy hard snowballs... the ones that have been packed too hard by someone who is not playing nice... nailing you right in the face. SOL INVICTUS 2009 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. WHEN THE WINTER CHRYSANTHEMUMS GO When the winter chrysanthemums go, there's nothing to write about but radishes. Lest the next few updates be dedicated solely to radishes, we've created this scent to keep the winter chrysanthemums alive. A gentle flurry of snow dusting the season's last chrysanthemums, illuminated by pale rays of winter's amber-tinted sunlight. YULE CAT The Yule Cat is a gargantuan Icelandic feline that feasts on indolent people who shirk their community responsibilities. Don't be lazy! - idle hands make for a very unpleasant Yule! Malevolent musk, a drop of infernal civet, vetiver, club moss, birch, goosefoot, and rowan. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing… er… Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn! The Miskatonic Valley Yuletide Faire is here! ++ THE MISKATONIC VALLEY YULETIDE FAIRE Welcome to Innsmouth, the Pearl of New England! Every December, the Esoteric Order of Dagon hosts the Miskatonic Valley Yuletide Faire, a holiday marketplace at the former Masonic Temple at New Church Green in Innsmouth. Mayor Obed Marsh, may the Deep Ones bless his eternal governance, lights the community sacrificial pyre on the first of the month, and the festivities begin! Amidst holiday entertainments, local artisans and craftspeople ply their wares. The Voices of Azathoth, our local children's choir, and the Servitor Flautists perform on the Grand Stage of Malignity throughout the month! "Dread Hymns Ancient and Modern" and the canonical cult scriptures are always lovingly reprinted and distributed by the kind folks at the Wilbur Whateley Memorial Library so that residents and visitors can sing and chant with the carolers, Esquimaux wizards, Louisiana swamp-priests, and local cultists. At midnight on Midwinter Eve, the liturgical play "the Adoration of the Mi-Go" is performed under the lights of a synathroesmus of iridescent globes by Arkham's world-famous acting troupe, the Haunters in the Dark, on the Great Stage. Get ready for holiday parties and ritual feasts with the help of our local farmers, bakers, and candymakers! Every year since 1928, Mother Shub has set up her tempting pastry and confections stand, the Yule Goat, and this year is no exception! Mason & Jenkin's Pantry will be selling their home made preserves, and the Innsmouth Canning Company will be offering a selection of fresh fish, true to their motto: You Are What You Eat! Shopping for holiday gifts is a breeze at the Miskatonic Valley Yuletide Faire! Old Man Ackerman, proprietor of Miskatonic Valley's renowned toy store and antiquities dealership, Elder Things, brings hand-crafted clockworks and tin machines that spout iridescent, prolately spheroidal bubbles to delight the wee ones. Old Man Ackerman's educational toys make non-Euclidean calculus fun! Curwen Imports brings a selection of exotic merchandise and antiquities from all over the globe and points beyond, including authentic 12th century illuminated manuscripts crafted by Bartolomeo Corsi. There's no better time to get a pet magah bird for little Billy or a new set of yellow Carcosan robes for yourself! Bargains galore! (For the pleasure of the adults, the Black Temple Burlesque Troupe performs nightly through January at the Vault of Zin in Innsmouth's Red Light District.) And that's just a sampling of what the Faire has to offer! Fun for the whole family! May this Yule season bring madness and the void's wild vengeance to all! THE ADORATION OF THE MI-GO The time-honored ecclesiastical drama that illustrates the piety of the Fungi and First Coming of the Crawling Chaos to the majestic black stone terraces of Yuggoth! Recapture the magic! Luminous, otherworldly wet and piquant odors mingling with black incense, the pitch-stench of Yuggoth, and fungal lichens. MOTHER SHUB'S SPICED LAIT DE CHÈVRE Nothing warms the cockles like a mug of Mother Shub's egg nog! Goat's milk egg nog with coffee liqueur and spices imported from the Crimson Desert! MOTHER SHUB'S PFANCY PFEFFERNEUSSE Fit for the finest oblation -- and your holiday table, too! Sugar-sprinkled pepper nuts with a bit of cinnamon, a bit of clove, a little cardamom, and a hint of nutmeg. MOTHER SHUB'S TOOTHSOME BANKETSTAAF A treat sure to please even the most finicky cultist! Tubular pastries oozing with spijs, glazed with apricot jam, and dotted with glace cherries. MASON & JENKIN'S PORT JELLY Red and sticky! From a genuine Old Salem recipe! OLD MAN ACKERMAN'S INSTRUCTIONAL TOYS Educational toys for tots! Learn non-Euclidean calculus, catoptric theory, quantum physics, and the mysteries of Elder magic the fun way! An ancient baetylus floating within an array of bizarre trapezoidal figures, glimmering tubes, rusting spheres, and whirling gogs formed from peculiar metals, glowing tektites, strangely suspended lead mirrors, and eerie driftings of meteoric dust. THE SMILIN' SERVITORS' HYPERDIMENSIONAL HOLIDAY HITS As seen on tv! A musical extravaganza of madness, terror, and woe! Twenty-three insane interstellar holiday hits from everyone's favorite amorphous toad pipers, including "Doom to the World" and "Here We Go to Sacrifice"! A discordant scent, silvery and strange like a lunatic's tinsel garland: freesia, eucalyptus, and yuzu, with sicilian lemon, massoia, opoponax, night-blooming jasmine, white bergamot, and copaiba oleoresin. PET MAGAH BIRD Every kid wants a pet magah bird! A prism of scent, an explosion of multi-colored feathers: blood orange, black plum, sugar cane, guava, frangipani, coconut, pimento berry, violet, caramel, and pear. THE BLACK TEMPLE BURLESQUE TROUPE Straight from the pits of black, lightless N'kai: the voluptuous bat-winged vixens of the Black Temple Burlesque Troupe! Cacao, black musk, and tobacco absolute. The Miskatonic Valley Yuletide Faire was illustrated the eldritch and diabolical Julie Dillon! The next card in Neil Gaiman's Vampire Tarot is also here! -- the Magician! ++ 15 PAINTED CARDS FROM A VAMPIRE TAROT: THE MAGICIAN They asked St. Germain's manservant if his master was truly a thousand years old, as it was rumored he had claimed. "How would I know?" the man replied. "I have only been in the master's employ for three hundred years. Burmese rosewood, olibanum, benzoin, turmeric, currant leaf, and oude. And finally, the latest addition to the GC… the District! A collaboration between Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, Black Phoenix Trading Post, and Molly Crabapple that benefits Habitat For Humanity: New Orleans! ++ THE DISTRICT Honi Soit Qui Mal Y Pense Shame to Him Who Evil Thinks Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Black Phoenix Trading Post are proud to present a scent series representing the people, places, and culture of New Orleans' Storyville, featuring artwork by the inimitable Molly Crabapple. Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is pandering the perfumes, and Black Phoenix Trading Post is offering District-themed atmosphere sprays and a gorgeous District tee illustrated by Molly! Lavish bordellos and shady cribs, dazzling jazz, and swinging saloons: bounded by Basin, Iberville, Robertson, and St Louis, Storyville, known to locals as the District, was New Orleans' legal red light district from 1897 to 1917. This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture. Proceeds from every bottle go to Habitat for Humanity: New Orleans. Habitat for Humanity builds houses in partnership with sponsors, volunteers, communities, and homeowner families, whereby families are empowered to transform their own lives, and aids in eliminating poverty housing in the New Orleans area while serving as a catalyst to make decent shelter a matter of conscience and action. Molly Crabapple is an award winning illustrator, and the founder of Dr. Sketchy's Anti-Art School. Molly has drawn for the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Marvel Comics, the Bloomberg Corporation, the Coagula Art Journal, and Playgirl, and she has illustrated eight books including Scarlett Takes Manhattan. She has also turned her talents to 30-foot theatrical backdrops, children's books, parade installations, burlesque posters, critically acclaimed webcomics, pornographic comic books, art writing, and gallery shows around the world. More about the lovely Miss Molly can be found through a feature on her in the Art & Design section of the New York Times. Thank you, Molly, for inspiring this series! http://www.mollycrabapple.com/ http://www.drsketchy.com/ http://www.habitat-nola.org/ COUNTESS WILLIE Sophisticated, dramatic, well-traveled, glamorous, and worldly, Countess Willie V. Piazza, owner of the French Studio, was a trendsetter in style and fashion. Countess Willie was an educated woman, a patron of the arts, and possessed an impressive library of rare volumes. She featured many historic jazz musicians in her House, including Tony Jackson and Jelly Roll Morton. Unlike many of her counterparts, she was known for having a kind heart and a generous, loving nature. She was fiercely protective: when a patron of her establishment, the nephew of a prominent New Orleans cleric, committed a heinous act of sadism against one of her ladies, Countess Willie shot him dead. Chocolate plum musk, red musk, amaretto, candied fruits, and red ginger. CRIB GIRLS Situated on of the lowest rungs in the Red Light District's hierarchy, the crib girls solicited from their windows and doorways, entertaining their clients in sparsely furnished, dingy two-room apartments. Seven honeys under one unkempt roof, with fiery-tart cubeb and dusty cardamom. EMMA Better known as the "Parisian Queen of America," needs little introduction in this country. Emma's "House of all Nations," as it is commonly called, is one place of amusement you can't very well afford to miss while in the Tenderloin District. Everything goes here. Fun is the watchword. Business has been on such an increase at the above place of late that Mdme. Johnson had to occupy an "Annex." Emma has never less than twenty pretty women of all nations, who are clever entertainers. Remember the name, Emma Johnson 331 and 333 Basin Street Vanilla bourbon, tea rose, jasmine, pink pepper, and patchouli. FLORA Everybody in the sporting world knows Miss Flora Meeker and she knows everybody worth knowing. So it is unnecessary at this time to make any introductory remarks about Miss Meeker, suffice it to say she is still at her same old place where she has been for a number of years past, doing a boss business which deserves, Miss Flora is well thought of by all and her house is patronized by the best element. Carnival visitors should not overlook this swell mansion where the cream of female loveliness will be found which is situated at No. 211 Basin avenue. Miss Flora Meeker's Palace of Mirth Sweet, wet fruits, sibilant Eastern musk, apple blossom, tuberose, calla lily, osmanthus, wild orchid, amber, and sandalwood. HILMA The amiable, ebullient proprietor of the Mirror Ballroom, where Jelly Roll Morton got his first gig. Miss Burt, while very young, is of a type that pleases most men of today - the witty, pretty, and natty - a lady of fashion. Her managerial possibilities are phenomenal, to say the least, and her success here has proven itself beyond a doubt. Miss Burt has been with us but a short while but has won all hearts. Her palace is second to none. It is good for one who loves the beautiful to visit Miss Burt's handsome palace. There are no words for the ladies - one can only realize the grandeur of feminine beauty and artistic settings after an hour or so in the palace of Hilma Burt. Miss Burt, aside from having two handsome homes here, has one in St. Louis and one in Kansas City, Mo., where, it is said, she is as popular as in New Orleans. Don't forget to converse with her, as she is very clever, jolly, and cultured. 205 N. Basin Honeysuckle, Bulgarian rose, night blooming jasmine, sweet clove, cedarwood, black tea, and nectarine. JOSIE The brooding, raucous, and hot-blooded proprietress of the Château Lobrano d'Arlington, the gaudiest bordello in the District. Miss Josie had a true talent for hype, and promoted her ladies in an effusively romanticized, over-the-top fashion. La Belle Stewart, who was in actuality a circus hoochie koochie girl from Chicago, was billed as "a bona-fide baroness, direct from the court of St. Petersburg." Heady magnolia and honeyed peaches. LULU The Diamond Queen. An expert showman and entrepreneur, the eccentric Miss Lulu was the Mistress of Mahogany Hall until 1917. She invested heavily, but not always successfully, and at the end of her career as a madam, wanted to fund production houses for the budding movie industry in California. The 1934 Mae West film, "the Belle of the Nineties", was loosely based on Lulu's exploits. Tobacco flower, white gardenia, bergamot, and bourbon geranium. The Magician is $30 for the card and scent set, all scents in the District series are $25 per bottle, and all the Yules (including the Miskatonic Valley Yuletide Faire scents) are $17.50 each. And that's it for now! Please stay tuned for the upcoming Black Phoenix Trading Post update! From the 4 October 2009 update: Happy Halloweenie Month, everyone! The Lunacy this month is from the Algonquin calendar, Raven Moon, and the scent itself is inspired by a quote by Edgar Allan Poe: RAVEN MOON The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? Mournful and Never-ending Remembrance: shining, moonlit ebony musk with benzoin, myrrh, smoky vanilla, patchouli, nutmeg, and dried red chili.  The gorgeous accompanying tee was drawn by Jennifer Williamson, and is available at Black Phoenix Trading Post. Both the scent and the tee will be live until 6 October 2009. This month, we are also presenting a scent dedicated to our beloved friend, Pa-pow… PA-POW Such glorious faith as fills your limpid eyes, Dear little friend of mine, I never knew. All-innocent are you, and yet all-wise. (For Heaven's sake, stop worrying that shoe!) You look about, and all you see is fair; This mighty globe was made for you alone. Of all the thunderous ages, you're the heir. (Get off the pillow with that dirty bone!) A skeptic world you face with steady gaze; High in young pride you hold your noble head, Gayly you meet the rush of roaring days. (Must you eat puppy biscuit on the bed?) Lancelike your courage, gleaming swift and strong, Yours the white rapture of a winged soul, Yours is a spirit like a Mayday song. (God help you, if you break the goldfish bowl!) "Whatever is, is good" - your gracious creed. You wear your joy of living like a crown. Love lights your simplest act, your every deed. (Drop it, I tell you- put that kitten down!) You are God's kindliest gift of all - a friend. Your shining loyalty unflecked by doubt, You ask but leave to follow to the end. (Couldn't you wait until I took you out?) -- Verse For a Certain Dog, Dorothy Parker Pa-Pow, Ted's best friend and companion for 17 years, passed away on September 1st, 2009. To celebrate her life and the joy she brought to all of us, we have created a scent evocative of bright days running through the grass and sun-warmed puppy fur dusted with California wildflowers. The proceeds from the sale of this scent will go to the Pasadena Humane Society so she can help care for the animals that were displaced and injured during this summer's Station Fires. To find out more about the Pasadena Humane Society, please visit: http://www.pasadenahumane.org/. Pa-Pow, we love you so much. At long last, there are some additions to the general catalogue… ++ MARCHEN: GODFATHER DEATH GODFATHER DEATH He went onwards, and then came Death striding up to him with withered legs, and said, "Take me as godfather." The man asked, "Who art thou?" "I am Death, and I make all equal." Then said the man, "Thou art the right one, thou takest the rich as well as the poor, without distinction; thou shalt be godfather." Death answered, "I will make thy child rich and famous, for he who has me for a friend can lack nothing." The man said, "Next Sunday is the christening; be there at the right time." Death appeared as he had promised, and stood godfather quite in the usual way. Olibanum, elemi, Bulgarian rose, yew, and oppoponax. THY GODFATHER'S PRESENT When the boy had grown up, his godfather one day appeared and bade him go with him. He led him forth into a forest, and showed him a herb which grew there, and said, "Now shalt thou receive thy godfather's present. I make thee a celebrated physician. When thou art called to a patient, I will always appear to thee. If I stand by the head of the sick man, thou mayst say with confidence that thou wilt make him well again, and if thou givest him of this herb he will recover; but if I stand by the patient's feet, he is mine, and thou must say that all remedies are in vain, and that no physician in the world could save him. But beware of using the herb against my will, or it might fare ill with thee." A bruised purple bundle of herbs with hyssop and life-everlasting. THE LIGHTS OF MEN'S LIVES When Death saw that for a second time he was defrauded of his own property, he walked up to the physician with long strides, and said, "All is over with thee, and now the lot falls on thee," and seized him so firmly with his ice-cold hand, that he could not resist, and led him into a cave below the earth. There he saw how thousands and thousands of candles were burning in countless rows, some large, others half-sized, others small. Every instant some were extinguished, and others again burnt up, so that the flames seemed to leap hither and thither in perpetual change. "See," said Death, "these are the lights of men's lives. The large ones belong to children, the half-sized ones to married people in their prime, the little ones belong to old people; but children and young folks likewise have often only a tiny candle." "Show me the light of my life," said the physician, and he thought that it would be still very tall. Death pointed to a little end which was just threatening to go out, and said, "Behold, it is there." The wax and smoke of millions upon millions of candles illuminating the walls of Death's shadowy cave: some tall, straight, and strong, blazing with the fire of life, others dim and guttering. ++ MARCHEN: VASILISSA THE BEAUTIFUL THE LITTLE WOODEN DOLL "My little Vasilissa, my dear daughter, listen to what I say, remember well my last words and fail not to carry out my wishes. I am dying, and with my blessing, I leave to thee this little doll. It is very precious for there is no other like it in the whole world. Carry it always about with thee in thy pocket and never show it to anyone. When evil threatens thee or sorrow befalls thee, go into a corner, take it from thy pocket and give it something to eat and drink. It will eat and drink a little, and then thou mayest tell it thy trouble and ask its advice, and it will tell thee how to act in thy time of need." So saying, she kissed her little daughter on the forehead, blessed her, and shortly after died. Little Vasilissa grieved greatly for her mother, and her sorrow was so deep that when the dark night came, she lay in her bed and wept and did not sleep. At length she be thought herself of the tiny doll, so she rose and took it from the pocket of her gown and finding a piece of wheat bread and a cup of kvass, she set them before it, and said: "There, my little doll, take it. Eat a little, and drink a little, and listen to my grief. My dear mother is dead and I am lonely for her." Then the doll's eyes began to shine like fireflies, and suddenly it became alive. It ate a morsel of the bread and took a sip of the kvass, and when it had eaten and drunk, it said: "Don't weep, little Vasilissa. Grief is worst at night. Lie down, shut thine eyes, comfort thyself and go to sleep. The morning is wiser than the evening." So Vasilissa the Beautiful lay down, comforted herself and went to sleep, and the next day her grieving was not so deep and her tears were less bitter. Gently carved wood warm with a maternal love that reaches beyond death: rose-infused amber and soft golden sandalwood. THE WHITE RIDER The wood was very dark, and she could not help trembling from fear. Suddenly she heard the sound of a horse's hoofs and a man on horseback galloped past her. He was dressed all in white, the horse under him was milk-white and the harness was white, and just as he passed her it became twilight. White leather and sandalwood. THE RED RIDER She went a little further and again she heard the sound of a horse's hoofs and there came another man on horseback galloping past her. He was dressed all in red, and the horse under him was blood-red and its harness was red, and just as he passed her the sun rose. Red leather, red moss, and balsam. THE BLACK RIDER As she stood there a third man on horseback came galloping up. His face was black, he was dressed all in black, and the horse he rode was coal-black. He galloped up to the gate of the hut and disappeared there as if he had sunk through the ground and at that moment the night came and the forest grew dark. But it was not dark on the green lawn, for instantly the eyes of all the skulls on the wall were lighted up and shone till the place was as bright as day. When she saw this Vasilissa trembled so with fear that she could not run away. Black leather, oppoponax, tobacco, and black amber. THE CHICKEN-LEGGED HUT But at evening she came all at once to the green lawn where the wretched little hut stood on its hens' legs. The wall around the hut was made of human bones and on its top were skulls. There was a gate in the wall, whose hinges were the bones of human feet and whose locks were jaw-bones set with sharp teeth. The sight filled Vasilissa with horror and she stopped as still as a post buried in the ground. Creaky wood and sun-dried thatching, clacking bones, leering skulls, burnt herbs, and enormous magical chicken feet. BABA YAGA Then suddenly the wood became full of a terrible noise; the trees began to groan, the branches to creak and the dry leaves to rustle, and the Baba Yaga came flying from the forest. She was riding in a great iron mortar and driving it with the pestle, and as she came she swept away her trail behind her with a kitchen broom. Spell-soaked herbs and flowers, cold iron, broom twigs, bundles of moss and patchouli root, and moth dust. THE WITCH'S REPAST "Well," said the old witch, "I know them. But if I give thee the fire thou shalt stay with me some time and do some work to pay for it. If not, thou shalt be eaten for my supper." Then she turned to the gate and shouted: "Ho! Ye, my solid locks, unlock! Thou, my stout gate, open!" Instantly the locks unlocked, the gate opened of itself, and the Baba Yaga rode in whistling. Vasilissa entered behind her and immediately the gate shut again and the locks snapped tight. When they had entered the hut the old witch threw her self down on the stove, stretched out her bony legs and said: "Come, fetch and put on the table at once everything that is in the oven. I am hungry." So Vasilissa ran and lighted a splinter of wood from one of the skulls on the wall and took the food from the oven and set it before her. There was enough cooked meat for three strong men. She brought also from the cellar kvass, honey, and red wine, and the Baba Yaga ate and drank the whole, leaving the girl only a little cabbage soup, a crust of bread and a morsel of suckling pig. Kvass, honey-drizzled bread, roasted meat, and wine. FIRE FOR THY STEPMOTHER'S DAUGHTERS Vasilissa ran to the yard, and behind her she heard the old witch shouting to the locks and the gate. The locks opened, the gate swung wide, and she ran out on to the lawn. The Baba Yaga seized from the wall one of the skulls with burning eyes and flung it after her. "There," she howled, "is the fire for thy stepmother's daughters. Take it. That is what they sent thee here for, and may they have joy of it!" Flaming coals, hellfire, and blackened bone. VASILISSA "Take it, then," the Tsar said, "and bid her do it for me." The old woman brought the linen home and told Vasilissa the Tsar's command: "Well I knew that the work would needs be done by my own hands," said Vasilissa, and, locking herself in her own room, began to make the shirts. So fast and well did she work that soon a dozen were ready. Then the old woman carried them to the Tsar, while Vasilissa washed her face, dressed her hair, put on her best gown and sat down at the window to see what would happen. And presently a servant in the livery of the Palace came to the house and entering, said: "The Tsar, our lord, desires himself to see the clever needlewoman who has made his shirts and to reward her with his own hands." Vasilissa rose and went at once to the Palace, and as soon as the Tsar saw her, he fell in love with her with all his soul. He took her by her white hand and made her sit beside him. "Beautiful maiden," he said, "never will I part from thee and thou shalt be my wife." So the Tsar and Vasilissa the Beautiful were married, and her father returned from the far-distant Tsardom, and he and the old woman lived always with her in the splendid Palace, in all joy and contentment. And as for the little wooden doll, she carried it about with her in her pocket all her life long. She herself had cheeks like blood and milk and grew every day more and more beautiful: creamy skin musk and blushing pink musk with soft sandalwood, white amber, dutiful myrrh, and star jasmine. ++ WANDERLUST EL DORADO Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old This knight so bold And o'er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow "Shadow," said he, "Where can it be This land of Eldorado?" "Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied "If you seek for Eldorado!" Copal resin incense blowing through halls of dazzling gold. OGYGIA On to Pieria he stepped from the upper air, and swooped down upon the sea, and then sped over the wave like a bird, the cormorant, which in quest of fish over the dread gulfs of the unresting sea wets its thick plumage in the brine. In such wise did Hermes ride upon the multitudinous waves. But when he had reached the island which lay afar, then forth from the violet sea he came to land, and went his way until he came to a great cave, wherein dwelt the fair-tressed nymph; and he found her within. A great fire was burning on the hearth, and from afar over the isle there was a fragrance of cleft cedar and juniper, as they burned; but she within was singing with a sweet voice as she went to and fro before the loom, weaving with a golden shuttle. Round about the cave grew a luxuriant wood, alder and poplar and sweet-smelling cypress, wherein birds long of wing were wont to nest, owls and falcons and sea-crows with chattering tongues, who ply their business on the sea. And right there about the hollow cave ran trailing a garden vine, in pride of its prime, richly laden with clusters. And fountains four in a row were flowing with bright water hard by one another, turned one this way, one that. And round about soft meadows of violets and parsley were blooming. There even an immortal, who chanced to come, might gaze and marvel, and delight his soul; and there the messenger Argeiphontes stood and marvelled. Sea air, kelp, and climbing vines, flame-singed cedarwood and juniper branches, cypress boughs, alder wood, violets, selino, parsley, glistritha, and white sage. PAÍS DE LA CANELA The legendary Valley of Cinnamon located east of Quito, deep in the Selva Amazónica. A thick tangle of deep green leaves, wild orchids, soft lichen, Patauá and Babassu palm spiced by the scent of deep, rich cinnamon. The bad news: De Sade is the latest to fall victim to misfortune. He's being discontinued as of today. Pending orders will still be filled, but we do not have enough stock to accept new orders for this scent. The good news: later this month, a Vampire Tarot card enters the deck, we take you on a trip through the red light district, a sticky bat flits into the house, and snow falls early in New England. (The Stars Are Right!) At Black Phoenix Trading Post, they're oiling the racks and heating up the pokers for an upcoming Inquisition! From the 2 September 2009 update: Happy birthday to Miss Lilith Victoria and her beloved Uncle Brian! Neil Gaiman's 15 Painted Cards From a Vampire Tarot is live on BPAL & BPTP! Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is proud to present a 15-month scent and art series based on Neil Gaiman's short story, "15 Painted Cards from a Vampire Tarot." Each package comes with a 5ml bottle of perfume inspired by the tale and a corresponding tarot card, created by Madame Talbot. The Fool's perfume: apple blossom, peppermint, allspice, and yellow sandalwood speckled with grave loam and clods of grave dirt. The Fool premiered at San Diego Comic Con 2009 through the CBLDF, along with a Limited Edition variant of the Fool, created by Alicia Dabney. The Fool is going live online with this September update. A new set will be added to the collection each month, spanning 15 months. T-shirts featuring Madame Talbot's artwork are available through Black Phoenix Trading Post.  The Fool tee will begin to ship on September 14, 2009. We chose to utilize tees that have been put through the burnout process in order to mimic parchment. It is an extensive and expensive process, and along with the 2-sided print, it makes for a higher price point. The fabric is weathered and has been washed over and over again. It looks deliberately vintage, and has a comfy, well-loved feel to it. The fabric is garment dyed 50% cotton and 50% polyester, and was made in the good ol' US of A. Due to the burnout process, no two tees are exactly the same. We tested the burnouts for two years prior to offering them. The tees we tested withstood innumerable washings over the years, in addition to the abuse of being worn by Ted while he plays hockey (yowch!), and they just keep getting softer and more comfortable over time. (No, we are not selling tees that Ted has worn during hockey. That would be a biohazard.) The fit of the tees, both babydoll and standard crew, are slightly smaller than the usual Black Phoenix Trading Post tees. Please refer to the size chart on the Trading Post site for more information. The babydolls are crews, have a "boyfriend" fit, and were created to hang gently on the body and slide across your figure; they are not skin-tight. Black ink on grey-brown parchment fabric. The oil and tarot card set is $30, and the tee is $45. This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single set and tee go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve the First Amendment rights of the comic community. Also new this month! The Hellboy series is live! So much thanks to Mike and Christine Mignola for their support and friendship, and for the opportunity to interpret the world of Hellboy through scent! HELLBOY Aftershave, candy wrappers, brimstone, and cat. TREVOR BRUTTENHELM A classic men's cologne mixed with the scent of old, yellowed books, a splash of bay rum, and summoning incense. KROENEN Shining black leather, gleaming metal, labdanum, and myrrh. LIZ A light, feminine vanilla floral perfume and a swirl of smoke and leather. PLAGUE OF FROGS Rubbery, wet, and warty. ABE SAPIEN A soft aquatic musk with kelp and juniper. The Hellboy scents are $25 each! Also new this month - scents inspired by Gris Grimly's illustrations for Tales of Death & Dementia! These scents debuted at the Tales of Death & Dementia Launch Party at Dark Delicacies, and will be carried here and on the Mad Creator website. To Commemorate the 200th anniversary of Edgar Allan Poe, Gris Grimly fully illustrated four of Poe's short stories, the Tell-Tale Heart, the System of Dr Tarr and Professor Fether, the Oblong Box, and the Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar. We are thrilled beyond belief to have the opportunity to translate a few of Gris' illustrations into merrily macabre complimentary scents! A FIT OF ARTISTIC ENTHUSIASM Inspired by Gris Grimly's illustrations for the Oblong Box. Electric jolts of mania: a salt-crusted coffin bobbing through tumultuous ocean waves. DETESTABLE PUTRESCENCE Inspired by Gris Grimly's illustrations for the Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar. Melty vanilla ice cream! HIDEOUS HEART Inspired by Gris Grimly's illustrations for the Tell-Tale Heart. A macabre Valentine: wild black cherries, licorice root, and cinnamon. SOOTHING SYSTEM Inspired by Gris Grimly's illustrations for the System of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether. A lunatic's vintage cabernet. These scents are $20 each! And let's not forget this month's Lunacy… FALLING LEAF MOON My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane. The first autumn rains dripping onto fallen leaves against a backdrop of opoponax, labdanum, patchouli, agarwood, and oakmoss. Unfortunately, our illustrator is running a little late, so we're not able to post the Lunacy tee for another day or two. We're truly sorry for the delay, and will be extending the ordering time on the tee. It has been a very strange year. There's been a little revamping and clean-upping happening on the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab web site! A million thanks to our lovemuffin, Alicia Dabney, for the new menu bar art on the main site, and for the artwork featured on the new Neil Gaiman menu page! We do have a bit of bad news: Bat-woman has been discontinued due to component issues. We apologize sincerely for the lack of warning; it hit us suddenly. The price for the Salon series 1 imp packs has been adjusted to reflect this change, as well. There's a whole lot new at Black Phoenix Trading Post, too - Two new Atmosphere sprays! EREBOS Thus saying, from her side the fatal Key, Sad instrument of all our woe, she took; And towards the Gate rouling her bestial train, Forthwith the huge Porcullis high up drew, Which but her self not all the STYGIAN powers Could once have mov'd; then in the key-hole turns Th' intricate wards, and every Bolt and Bar Of massie Iron or sollid Rock with ease Unfast'ns: on a sudden op'n flie With impetuous recoile and jarring sound Th' infernal dores, and on thir hinges great Harsh Thunder, that the lowest bottom shook Of EREBUS. She op'nd, but to shut Excel'd her power; the Gates wide op'n stood, That with extended wings a Bannerd Host Under spread Ensigns marching might pass through With Horse and Chariots rankt in loose array; So wide they stood, and like a Furnace mouth Cast forth redounding smoak and ruddy flame. Before thir eyes in sudden view appear The secrets of the hoarie deep, a dark Illimitable Ocean without bound, Without dimension, where length, breadth, and highth, And time and place are lost; where eldest Night And CHAOS, Ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal ANARCHIE, amidst the noise Of endless warrs and by confusion stand. Solace in darkness, the personification of shadow: lavender, black vanilla, white melon, night-blooming jasmine, rose, cedar, cyclamen, violet, and hyacinth. THE FAINTING ROOM Lush velvet cushions and prim tea rose, a splash of rose water on a lace doily, strong black tea, a whiff of pomander, and an orris root sachet. Also new to the Post! - the SKELETON LIBRARIAN PLAQUES!  The Skeleton Librarian Plaques are here! Inspired by the Skeleton Librarian t-shirt, this plaque is based on artwork created for Black Phoenix Trading Post by Kali of Johnny Ace Studios! Hand cast and hand painted, these plaques come in two styles: cold cast bronze and cold cast resin with a bone finish. These plaques aren't simply decorative: they hold eight bottles for display. Due to the handcrafted nature of these plaques, no two are exactly the same! Dimensions are 15"x9.5" This is a limited stock item: there are seventy-five bone plaques, and twenty-five bronze plaques. Once they're gone, they're gone. Suitable for indoor or outdoor use. Please note: the cold cast bronze plaque will patina over time. The Post is also thrilled to offer some Halloween treats! The Wanton Voluptuousness series - At Black Phoenix, we have a real thing for Lucy. This collection contains a bath oil, Oceans of Love and Millions of Kisses, which is innocent sensuality and sweetness personified. There are two room sprays: Lucy's Boudoir, which embodies Lucy's youth, beauty, and coquettish innocence, and another, Lucy's Darkness, that is the scent wafting through her room during her room during her final days among the living. They can be used alone, or the latter can be sprayed to corrupt the former. Lucy, Kissed is a perfume illustrating the scent of her undeath. $29 per 8oz Bath Oil $25 per 4oz Room Spray $17.50 per 5ml Perfume Oil No squirts or samples are available for this series. OCEANS OF LOVE AND MILLIONS OF KISSES BATH OIL Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble? Orange blossom and honey. LUCY'S BOUDOIR ATMOSPHERE SPRAY Rose water and lavender with stargazer lily, white carnation, bois de rose, white iris, violet, and honey. LUCY IN DARKNESS ATMOSPHERE SPRAY And then insensibly there came the strange change which I had noticed in the night. Her breathing grew stertorous, the mouth opened, and the pale gums, drawn back, made the teeth look longer and sharper than ever. In a sort of sleep-waking, vague, unconscious way she opened her eyes, which were now dull and hard at once, and said in a soft, voluptuous voice, such as I had never heard from her lips, "Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come! Kiss me!" Denn die Todten reiten Schnell. Black opium poppy, laudanum, blood, and a chaplet of garlic flowers. LUCY, KISSED PERFUME OIL There was a long spell of silence, big, aching, void, and then from the Professor a keen "S-s-s-s!" He pointed, and far down the avenue of yews we saw a white figure advance, a dim white figure, which held something dark at its breast. The figure stopped, and at the moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving clouds, and showed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman, dressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not see the face, for it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child. There was a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in sleep, or a dog as it lies before the fire and dreams. We were starting forward, but the Professor's warning hand, seen by us as he stood behind a yew tree, kept us back. And then as we looked the white figure moved forwards again. It was now near enough for us to see clearly, and the moonlight still held. My own heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur, as we recognized the features of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness. Van Helsing stepped out, and obedient to his gesture, we all advanced too. The four of us ranged in a line before the door of the tomb. Van Helsing raised his lantern and drew the slide. By the concentrated light that fell on Lucy's face we could see that the lips were crimson with fresh blood, and that the stream had trickled over her chin and stained the purity of her lawn death-robe. Diabolical voluptuousness, a siren song from the grave: juniper and yew brushing against blackened violets and funeral roses, red musk and hot blood, veined white marble and icy, brittle musk, all pulsing with the sinister, hypnotic scent of patchouli, amber, oude, and cubeb. (Many thanks to Aunt Beastie for inspiring the perfume's name! You were born to be an undead seductress, woman!) There are also some traditional Halloween offerings! - PUMPKIN PIE BATH OIL Devilishly decadent and a little bit ridiculous! BARMBRACK ATMOSPHERE SPRAY An Irish Halloween tradition! This fruit bread is used as a method of divination: a medallion of the Virgin Mary, a sliver of rag, a pea, a coin, a stick, and a ring are baked into the pastry. On Halloween night, it is cut up and served to the household. If you received the stick, you would spend the next year in conflict… if you received the medallion, you would be called to the priesthood… if you received the rag, you would be plagued with misfortune… if you received the ring, you would be married within the year… if you received the pea, you would not marry within the year… Each bottle of Barmbrack spray comes with a toy coin and a wish for your good fortune in 2010! KNOCK-A-DOLLY Ding Dong Ditch! Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's Samhain scent with cinnamon sugar and candy dust! Every single order placed with Black Phoenix Trading Post from now til November 2nd will receive an imp of the Last Squished Jelly Bean. And that's that for now! From the 5 August 2009 update: The Sachs and Violens Collection is live! Scents based on the title characters from George Pérez and Peter David's groundbreaking comic book mini-series, 'Sachs and Violens'! Part of Marvel's Heavy Hitters line, "Sachs and Violens" was a 4 issue comic book miniseries written by Peter David with art by George Pérez. The series was published by Marvel's Epic Comics imprint from 1993 to 1994. George Pérez is one of the most popular and influential comic book artists currently working. He is best known for his work on Crisis on Infinite Earths, New Teen Titans, Wonder Woman, Superman, and the Avengers, and has most recently worked on DC's Final Crisis. Peter David is an Eisner Award-winning Writer of Stuff, including epic runs with the Incredible Hulk, She-Hulk, Aquaman, and Spider Man. Proceeds from every bottle sold go to the Hero Initiative, the first federally recognized not-for-profit organization dedicated to helping comic book creators, writers and artists in need. Founded in late 2000 by a consortium of comic book and trade publishers including Marvel Comics, Image Comics, Dark Horse Comics, Wizard Entertainment, CrossGen Comics and Dynamic Forces Inc., the 501(c)(3) charity aims to assist comic creators with health, medical, and quality-of-life assistance. SACHS A sensual scent, compelling and passionate, that stays close to the skin: Roman chamomile, bourbon vanilla, and smoky vanilla bean. VIOLENS Rugged and understated: five sandalwoods, dusty leather, and light musk. Help a truly worthy cause, and smell like a badass in the process! The Hero Initiative: because everyone deserves a Golden Age. Updated 5 August 2009: Black Butterfly Moon is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab & Black Phoenix Trading Post! BLACK BUTTERFLY MOON Sister of the first-born light, Type of sorrowing gentleness! Quivering mists in silv'ry dress Float around thy features bright; When thy gentle foot is heard, From the day-closed caverns then Wake the mournful ghosts of men, I, too, wake, and each night-bird. O'er a field of boundless span Looks thy gaze both far and wide. Raise me upwards to thy side! Grant this to a raving man! And to heights of rapture raised, Let the knight so crafty peep At his maiden while asleep, Through her lattice-window glazed. Soon the bliss of this sweet view, Pangs by distance caused allays; And I gather all thy rays, And my look I sharpen too. Round her unveil'd limbs I see Brighter still become the glow, And she draws me down below, As Endymion once drew thee. Soft, deep, and luminous: Lady of the Night orchid, benzoin, opopponax, currant, black chypre, white gardenia, ambergris, damp, wooded mosses, and black lily. Black Phoenix Trading Post's Black Butterfly tee!  Artwork by Jennifer Williamson! One flat grey, one shimmer grey, two-sided tee. BPAL also has a selection of late summer scents in the LE section: THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER 'Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred, No rosebud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, To give sigh for sigh. I'll not leave thee, thou lone one! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter, Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead. So soon may I follow, When friendships decay, From Love's shining circle The gems drop away. When true hearts lie withered And fond ones are flown, Oh! who would inhabit, This bleak world alone? A quiet, solitary scent: white rose, frankincense, Arabian sandalwood, neroli, orris root, and patchouli. SHADOWLESS LIKE SILENCE I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like Silence, listening To silence, for no lonely bird would sing Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;-- Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright With tangled gossamer that fell by night, Pearling his coronet of golden corn. Where are the songs of Summer?--With the sun, Oping the dusky eyelids of the south, Till shade and silence waken up as one, And Morning sings with a warm odorous mouth. Where are the merry birds?--Away, away, On panting wings through the inclement skies, Lest owls should prey Undazzled at noonday, And tear with horny beak their lustrous eyes. Where are the blooms of Summer?--In the west, Blushing their last to the last sunny hours, When the mild Eve by sudden Night is prest Like tearful Proserpine, snatch'd from her flow'rs To a most gloomy breast. Where is the pride of Summer,--the green prime,-- The many, many leaves all twinkling?--Three On the moss'd elm; three on the naked lime Trembling,--and one upon the old oak-tree! Where is the Dryad's immortality?-- Gone into mournful cypress and dark yew, Or wearing the long gloomy Winter through In the smooth holly's green eternity. The squirrel gloats on his accomplish'd hoard, The ants have brimm'd their garners with ripe grain, And honey bees have stored The sweets of Summer in their luscious cells; The swallows all have wing'd across the main; But here the Autumn melancholy dwells, And sighs her tearful spells Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain. Alone, alone, Upon a mossy stone, She sits and reckons up the dead and gone With the last leaves for a love-rosary, Whilst all the wither'd world looks drearily, Like a dim picture of the drowned past In the hush'd mind's mysterious far away, Doubtful what ghostly thing will steal the last Into that distance, gray upon the gray. O go and sit with her, and be o'ershaded Under the languid downfall of her hair: She wears a coronal of flowers faded Upon her forehead, and a face of care;-- There is enough of wither'd everywhere To make her bower,--and enough of gloom; There is enough of sadness to invite, If only for the rose that died, whose doom Is Beauty's,--she that with the living bloom Of conscious cheeks most beautifies the light: There is enough of sorrowing, and quite Enough of bitter fruits the earth doth bear,-- Enough of chilly droppings for her bowl; Enough of fear and shadowy despair, To frame her cloudy prison for the soul! Dry leaves and white sandalwood, rock moss, cypress, and dry, lifeless roses. SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT What pleasure always lasts? No joy endures: Summer I was, I am not as I was; Harvest and age have whitened my green head; On Autumn now and Winter must I lean. Needs must he fall, whom none but foes uphold. Thus must the happiest man have his black day: Omnibus una manet nox, & calcanda semel via lethi. This month have I lain languishing abed, ... Looking each hour to yield my life and throne; And died I had indeed unto the earth, But that Eliza, England's beauteous Queen, On whom all seasons prosperously attend, Forbad the execution of my fate, Until her joyful progress was expired. For her doth Summer live, and linger here, And wisheth long to live to her content; But wishes are not had when they wish well. I must depart, my death-day is set down; ... To these two must I leave my wheaten crown. So unto unthrifts rich men leave their lands, Who in an hour consume long labor's gains. Doomed summer, supported on the shoulders of winter and autumn: citrus-infused Baltic amber, red valerian, marigold, blood orange, and sunflower subdued by somber myrrh and dry geranium alongside the leaves of autumn and a breath of winter wind. UNDER THE HARVEST MOON Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers. Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful, unanswerable questions. Blue and white musk, summer roses, wild crimson leaves, grey amber, carnation, lavender bud, and vanilla bean. Its August… and you know what that means at BPAL - ++ HALLOWEENIES BITE ME Well, we *are* doing a vampire update finally. Croquembouche with almond silk and a drizzle of caramel. BOO Eerie billows of spun sugar, fluttering white cotton, and sheets of cream. CARLIN The Spirit of the Eve of Samhain, an aspect of Cailleach, the Divine Hag, in her Destroyer aspect. While Brìghde rules the time between Beltane and Sahmain, Cailleach rules the Dark of the Year. On the night of Samhain, she transforms into Carlin, harbingering the death of the land and the onset of the snows. On Beltane, the Great Crone is slain by Brìghde so springtime can reinvigorate the land. Black sage, ivy-twined rowan, thistle, snapdragon, heather, gorse, fumitory, and anise. CREEPY 2009 A return of 2006's Ridiculous Scent! As creepy as Spooky was spooky, this is the scent of butterscotch-kissed, caramel-smothered red apples spiked with a blast of coconut rum. DEVIL'S NIGHT 2009 Devil's Eve, Devil's Night, Gate Night, Trick Night, Mischief Night; whatever your name for it might be, the chaos is still the same. Contrary to popular belief, this festival of pandemonium isn't unique to Detroit. Falling on October 30th, it is an evening of mayhem and destruction. On the gentler side, it may be celebrated by practical jokes, an egging, Ding-Dong-Ditch, or enthusiastic TP'ing of your most hated neighbor's trees, and on the more violent side, arson and vandalism. This is the scent of autumn night, fires in the distance, with a touch of boozy swoon, playful sugar and thuggish musk. DIA DE LOS MUERTOS 2009 A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte... Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the celebrant "...chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love." This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus. FEEDING THE DEAD A barrel of beer, a pyramid of cakes, and three sticks of incense. THE HELL-GATE OF IRELAND The Cave of Cruachan in Connaught, a province that was given to the Formorians after the Battle of Mag Tuired. On the first of November, a flock of malevolent copper-colored birds bursts forth from the mouth of the cave, ushering a host of restless ghosts and wicked goblins that torment the living by blighting crops, killing livestock, stealing away brides-to-be, and replacing infants with changelings. Smoldering brimstone, bitter labdanum, clove, black musk, and copper-colored feathers. LAMBS-WOOL According to William Shepard Walsh, the Gentleman's Magazine for May of 1784 stated, "this is a constant ingredient at merrymaking on Holy Eve." He also quotes Vallancey's etymological speculation: "The first day of November was dedicated to the angel presiding over fruits, seeds, etc., and was therefore named La Mas Ubhal, -- that is, the day of the apple fruit, -- and being pronounced Lamasool, the English have corrupted the name to Lambs-wool." A popular holy day beverage in 18th century Ireland: roasted apples mashed into warmed milk and ale, with nutmeg, sugar, ginger, and clove. POMONA I am the ancient apple-queen. As once I was so am I now -- For evermore a hope unseen Betwixt the blossom and the bough. Ah, where's the river's hidden gold! And where's the windy grave of Troy? Yet come I as I came of old, From out the heart of summer's joy. The Roman festival for Pomona, Goddess of fruit, orchards, and gardens, was celebrated on November 1. On this day, the stores amassed during summer were opened for winter. Azaroles, nuts, and apple blossoms with red apple pulp, mulberry, blackberry, and pomegranate juice. SAMHAIN 2009 Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein. SUCK IT A companion to Bite Me. Layers well with Lick It. Hee! Sexy and suckable: black cherry brandy. TRICK OR TREAT 2009 The sticky sweet scent of candy corn! Even cornier for 2009! - cuz corny is how we roll at BPAL. (Sorry to be a spoilsport, but please don't suck Suck Me or bite Bite Me. Don't lick them, drink them, or put them where your bathing suit covers.) And the Pumpkin Patch is back! -- ++ HALLOWEENIE: PUMPKIN PATCH 2009 The 'Patch is back, and there are five new pumpkin blends to choose from. Pick individual pumpkins from the field, or snatch up the whole shebang! Pumpkin Patch I Pumpkin, almond, brown musk, and honey. Pumpkin Patch II Pumpkin, rosewood, red sandalwood, and tea rose. Pumpkin Patch III Pumpkin, fir needle, pitch, rosemary, and tomato. Pumpkin Patch IV Pumpkin, black musk, tobacco, myrrh, and clove. Pumpkin Patch V Pumpkin, chocolate, coffee bean, vanilla bean, and hazelnut. PUMPKIN BOOTY If you purchase Pumpkin Booty, you will receive an imp of Tattie Bogle: a scent created to compliment and complete the collection. TATTIE BOGLE Alane upon the field she stood, The tattie-bogle, tall an' prood. But certie, she wis smairt an' braw, A bonnie lass, tho' made o' straw. Her gowden hair wis made o' oo. Her dentie goon when it wis new Langsyne, hid been the guidwife's best. Sae trigly wis the bogle drest! The beasts they cam' frae a' the airts. (The tod ran tours frae furrin' pairts.) They cam' by day, they cam' by nicht, To see a maist byordnar sicht. An' craws an sparras by the score, A wale o' burds, mair nor afore. The fermer roared an' raged aboot. 'A'll cast yon tattie-bogle oot!' Pair tattie-bogle, she wis wae. 'Eh!' said the houlet, 'Whits a dae?' He flew doon frae the elder tree. 'Noo, dry yer e'en an' herk tae me. 'See, lassie, tak ma guid advice. There is nae yiss ye bein' nice. Can ye nae glower an' skreich an' a' Tae sen' thae cooardie burds awa'?' The bogle grat nae mair: instead 'A'm much obleeged tae ye,' she said 'Ma voice is lood - jist like the craik!' 'Then sing,' he said, ' for ony sake!' It chilled the verra bluid tae hear The bogle's sang : frae far an' near The burds rose up, a' frichtit sair An' nivver cam back ony mair. Sae should ye pass at skreich o' day Alang the road frae Auchenblae, An' hear a strange uncanny soun, That scares the burds for miles aroon, A soon like pincils on a sclate, Be on yer way an' dinna wait. Ye can be shair as onything Ye've heard the tattie-bogle sing. Hay, gunpowder, patchouli, autumn herbs, and sun-baked wood. The next part of our Halloween LE update was spoilered a bit by Bite Me and Suck It. Ah, well - ++ THE LITERARY VAMPIRE A cypress-bough, and a rose-wreath sweet A wedding-robe, and a winding-sheet, A bridal-bed and a bier. Thine be the kisses, maid, And smiling Love's alarms; And thou, pale youth, be laid In the grave's cold arms. Each in his own charms, Death and Hymen both are here; So up with scythe and torch, And to the old church porch, While all the bells ring clear: And rosy, rosy the bed shall bloom, And earthy, earthy heap up the tomb. Now tremble dimples on your cheek, Sweet be your lips to taste and speak, For he who kisses is near: By her the bridegod fair, In youthful power and force; By him the grizard bare, Pale knight on a pale horse, To woo him to a corpse. Death and Hymen both are here; So up with scythe and torch, And to the old church porch, While all the bells ring clear: And rosy, rosy the bed shall bloom, And earthy, earthy heap up the tomb. -- Songs from "Death's Jest-Book", Athulf's Death Song, Thomas Lovell Beddoes ARIADNE BRUNNELL (The Vampire Maid, Hume Nisbet) This contact seemed also to have affected her as it did me; a clear flush, like a white flame, lighted up her face, so that it glowed as if an alabaster lamp had been lit; her black eyes became softer and more humid as our glances crossed, and her scarlet lips grew moist. She was a living woman now, while before she had seemed half a corpse. She permitted her white slender hand to remain in mine longer than most people do at an introduction, and then she slowly withdrew it, still regarding me with steadfast eyes for a second or two afterwards. Fathomless velvety eyes these were, yet before they were shifted from mine they appeared to have absorbed all my willpower and made me her abject slave. They looked like deep dark pools of clear water, yet they filled me with fire and deprived me of strength. I sank into my chair almost as languidly as I had risen from my bed that morning. Yet I made a good breakfast, and although she hardly tasted anything, this strange girl rose much refreshed and with a slight glow of colour on her cheeks, which improved her so greatly that she appeared younger and almost beautiful. I had come here seeking solitude, but since I had seen Ariadne it seemed as if I had come for her only. She was not very lively; indeed, thinking back, I cannot recall any spontaneous remark of hers; she answered my questions by monosyllables and left me to lead in words; yet she was insinuating and appeared to lead my thoughts in her direction and speak to me with her eyes. I cannot describe her minutely, I only know that from the first glance and touch she gave me I was bewitched and could think of nothing else. It was a rapid, distracting, and devouring infatuation that possessed me; all day long I followed her about like a dog, every night I dreamed of that white glowing face, those steadfast black eyes, those moist scarlet lips, and each morning I rose more languid than I had been the day before. Sometimes I dreamt that she was kissing me with those red lips, while I shivered at the contact of her silky black tresses as they covered my throat; sometimes that we were floating in the air, her arms about me and her long hair enveloping us both like an inky cloud, while I lay supine and helpless. Poppy flowers, peat, sphagnum moss, gardenia, and white water lily. CLARIMONDE (La Morte Amoureuse, Theophile Gautier) I do not know whether it was an illusion or a reflection of the lamplight, but it seemed to me that the blood was again commencing to circulate under that lifeless pallor, although she remained all motionless. I laid my hand lightly on her arm; it was cold, but not colder than her hand on the day when it touched mine at the portals of the church. I resumed my position, bending my face above her, and bathing her cheeks with the warm dew of my tears. Ah, what bitter feelings of despair and helplessness, what agonies unutterable did I endure in that long watch! Vainly did I wish that I could have gathered all my life into one mass that I might give it all to her, and breathe into her chill remains the flame which devoured me. The night advanced, and feeling the moment of eternal separation approach, I could not deny myself the last sad sweet pleasure of imprinting a kiss upon the dead lips of her who had been my only love. . . . Oh, miracle! A faint breath mingled itself with my breath, and the mouth of Clarimonde responded to the passionate pressure of mine. Her eyes unclosed, and lighted up with something of their former brilliancy; she uttered a long sigh, and uncrossing her arms, passed them around my neck with a look of ineffable delight. "Ah, it is thou, Romuald!" she murmured in a voice languishingly sweet as the last vibrations of a harp. "What ailed thee, dearest? I waited so long for thee that I am dead; but we are now betrothed; I can see thee and visit thee. Adieu, Romuald, adieu! I love thee. That is all I wished to tell thee, and I give thee back the life which thy kiss for a moment recalled. We shall soon meet again." Her head fell back, but her arms yet encircled me, as though to retain me still. A furious whirlwind suddenly burst in the window, and entered the chamber. The last remaining leaf of the white rose for a moment palpitated at the extremity of the stalk like a butterfly's wing, then it detached itself and flew forth through the open casement, bearing with it the soul of Clarimonde. The lamp was extinguished, and I fell insensible upon the bosom of the beautiful dead. Pallid skin musk, white roses, and a languorous vapor of Oriental perfume. CRISTINA (For the Blood is the Life, F. Marion Crawford) He was near the village now; it was half an hour since the sun had set, and the cracked church bell sent little discordant echoes across the rocks and ravines to tell all good people that the day was done. Angelo stood still a moment where the path forked, where it led toward the village on the left, and down to the gorge on the right, where a clump of chestnut trees overhung the narrow way. He stood still a minute, lifting his battered hat from his head and gazing at the fast-fading sea westward, and his lips moved as he silently repeated the familiar evening prayer. His lips moved, but the words that followed them in his brain lost their meaning and turned into others, and ended in a name that he spoke aloud -- Cristina! With the name, the tension of his will relaxed suddenly, reality went out and the dream took him again, and bore him on swiftly and surely like a man walking in his sleep, down, down, by the steep path in the gathering darkness. And as she glided beside him, Cristina whispered strange, sweet things in his ear, which somehow, if he had been awake, he knew that he could not quite have understood; but now they were the most wonderful words he had ever heard in his life. And she kissed him also, but not upon his mouth. He felt her sharp kisses upon his white throat, and he knew that her lips were red. So the wild dream sped on through twilight and darkness and moonrise, and all the glory of the summer's night. But in the chilly dawn he lay as one half dead upon the mound down there, recalling and not recalling, drained of his blood, yet strangely longing to give those red lips more. Then came the fear, the awful nameless panic, the mortal horror that guards the confines of the world we see not, neither know of as we know of other things, but which we feel when its icy chill freezes our bones and stirs our hair with the touch of a ghostly hand. Once more Angelo sprang from the mound and fled up the gorge in the breaking day, but his step was less sure this time, and he panted for breath as he ran; and when he came to the bright spring of water that rises half way up the hillside, he dropped upon his knees and hands and plunged his whole face in and drank as he had never drunk before -- for it was the thirst of the wounded man who has lain bleeding all night upon the battle-field. She had him fast now, and he could not escape her, but would come to her every evening at dusk until she had drained him of his last drop of blood. It was in vain that when the day was done he tried to take another turning and to go home by a path that did not lead near the gorge. It was in vain that he made promises to himself each morning at dawn when he climbed the lonely way up from the shore to the village. It was all in vain, for when the sun sank burning into the sea, and the coolness of the evening stole out as from a hiding-place to delight the weary world, his feet turned toward the old way, and she was waiting for him in the shadow under the chestnut trees; and then all happened as before, and she fell to kissing his white throat even as she flitted lightly down the way, winding one arm about him. Chestnut trees, juniper berries, violet leaf, labdanum, dazzling, moonlit white musk, and night-blooming summer flowers. COUNTESS DOLINGEN OF GRATZ (Dracula's Guest, the omitted introduction to Bram Stoker's Dracula) Now and again, through the black mass of drifting cloud, came a straggling ray of moonlight, which lit up the expanse, and showed me that I was at the edge of a dense mass of cypress and yew trees. As the snow had ceased to fall, I walked out from the shelter and began to investigate more closely. It appeared to me that, amongst so many old foundations as I had passed, there might be still standing a house in which, though in ruins, I could find some sort of shelter for a while. As I skirted the edge of the copse, I found that a low wall encircled it, and following this I presently found an opening. Here the cypresses formed an alley leading up to a square mass of some kind of building. Just as I caught sight of this, however, the drifting clouds obscured the moon, and I passed up the path in darkness. The wind must have grown colder, for I felt myself shiver as I walked; but there was hope of shelter, and I groped my way blindly on. I stopped, for there was a sudden stillness. The storm had passed; and, perhaps in sympathy with nature's silence, my heart seemed to cease to beat. But this was only momentarily; for suddenly the moonlight broke through the clouds, showing me that I was in a graveyard, and that the square object before me was a great massive tomb of marble, as white as the snow that lay on and all around it. With the moonlight there came a fierce sigh of the storm, which appeared to resume its course with a long, low howl, as of many dogs or wolves. I was awed and shocked, and felt the cold perceptibly grow upon me till it seemed to grip me by the heart. Then while the flood of moonlight still fell on the marble tomb, the storm gave further evidence of renewing, as though it was returning on its track. Impelled by some sort of fascination, I approached the sepulchre to see what it was, and why such a thing stood alone in such a place. I walked around it, and read, over the Doric door, in German: IN STYRIA SOUGHT AND FOUND DEATH 1801 On the top of the tomb, seemingly driven through the solid marble-for the structure was composed of a few vast blocks of stone-was a great iron spike or stake. On going to the back I saw, graven in great Russian letters: There was something so weird and uncanny about the whole thing that it gave me a turn and made me feel quite faint. I began to wish, for the first time, that I had taken Johann's advice. Here a thought struck me, which came under almost mysterious circumstances and with a terrible shock. This was Walpurgis Night! Walpurgis Night, when, according to the belief of millions of people, the devil was abroad-when the graves were opened and the dead came forth and walked. When all evil things of earth and air and water held revel. This very place the driver had specially shunned. This was the depopulated village of centuries ago. This was where the suicide lay; and this was the place where I was alone-unmanned, shivering with cold in a shroud of snow with a wild storm gathering again upon me! It took all my philosophy, all the religion I had been taught, all my courage, not to collapse in a paroxysm of fright. And now a perfect tornado burst upon me. The ground shook as though thousands of horses thundered across it; and this time the storm bore on its icy wings, not snow, but great hailstones which drove with such violence that they might have come from the thongs of Balearic slingers-hailstones that beat down leaf and branch and made the shelter of the cypresses of no more avail than though their stems were standing-corn. At the first I had rushed to the nearest tree; but I was soon fain to leave it and seek the only spot that seemed to afford refuge, the deep Doric doorway of the marble tomb. There, crouching against the massive bronze door, I gained a certain amount of protection from the beating of the hailstones, for now they only drove against me as they ricocheted from the ground and the side of the marble. As I leaned against the door, it moved slightly and opened inwards. The shelter of even a tomb was welcome in that pitiless tempest, and I was about to enter it when there came a flash of forked-lightning that lit up the whole expanse of the heavens. In the instant, as I am a living man, I saw, as my eyes were turned into the darkness of the tomb, a beautiful woman, with rounded cheeks and red lips, seemingly sleeping on a bier. As the thunder broke overhead, I was grasped as by the hand of a giant and hurled out into the storm. The whole thing was so sudden that, before I could realise the shock, moral as well as physical, I found the hailstones beating me down. At the same time I had a strange, dominating feeling that I was not alone. I looked towards the tomb. Just then there came another blinding flash, which seemed to strike the iron stake that surmounted the tomb and to pour through to the earth, blasting and crumbling the marble, as in a burst of flame. The dead woman rose for a moment of agony, while she was lapped in the flame, and her bitter scream of pain was drowned in the thundercrash. The last thing I heard was this mingling of dreadful sound, as again I was seized in the giant-grasp and dragged away, while the hailstones beat on me, and the air around seemed reverberant with the howling of wolves. The last sight that I remembered was a vague, white, moving mass, as if all the graves around me had sent out the phantoms of their sheeted-dead, and that they were closing in on me through the white cloudiness of the driving hail. Hailstone-pounded cypress boughs, olibanum, and an ozone blast of lightning. THE GIRL (The Singular Death of Morton, Algernon Blackwood) Then, suddenly, as they had turned to go, after much vain shouting and knocking at the door, a face appeared for an instant at a window, the shutter of which was half open. His friend saw it first, and called aloud. The face nodded in reply, and presently a young girl came round the corner of the house, apparently by a back door, and stood staring at them both from a little distance. And from that very instant, so far as he could remember, these queer feelings had entered his heart-fear, distrust, misgiving. The thought of it now, as he lay in bed in the darkness, made his hair rise. There was something about that girl that struck cold into the soul. Yet she was a mere slip of a thing, very pretty, seductive even, with a certain serpent?like fascination about her eyes and movements; and although she only replied to their questions as to refreshment with a smile, uttering no single word, she managed to convey the impression that she was a managing little person who might make herself very disagreeable if she chose. In spite of her undeniable charm there was about her an atmosphere of something sinister. He himself did most of the questioning, but it was his older friend who had the benefit of her smile. Her eyes hardly ever left his face, and once she had slipped quite close to him and touched his arm. The strange part of it now seemed to him that he could not remember in the least how she was dressed, or what was the colouring of her eyes and hair. It was almost as though he had felt, rather than seen, her presence. A seductive, serpentine white scent, elusive, crystalline, and spellbinding: white amber, silver birch, immortelle, davana, pale musk, star jasmine, and ylang ylang. MIRCALLA, COUNTESS KARNSTEIN (Carmilla, Sheridan LeFanu) Sometimes after an hour of apathy, my strange and beautiful companion would take my hand and hold it with a fond pressure, renewed again and again; blushing softly, gazing in my face with languid and burning eyes, and breathing so fast that her dress rose and fell with the tumultuous respiration. It was like the ardor of a lover; it embarrassed me; it was hateful and yet over-powering; and with gloating eyes she drew me to her, and her hot lips traveled along my cheek in kisses; and she would whisper, almost in sobs, "You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one for ever." Then she had thrown herself back in her chair, with her small hands over her eyes, leaving me trembling. Languid, melancholy fire: red musk, purple orchid, frankincense, smoky vanilla, Styrian herbs, peru balsam, tonka, Zanzibar clove, and patchouli. LORD RUTHVEN (the Vampyre, John Polidori) It happened that in the midst of the dissipations attendant upon London winter, there appeared at the various parties of the leaders of the ton a nobleman more remarkable for his singularities, than his rank. He gazed upon the mirth around him, as if he could not participate therein. Apparently, the light laughter of the fair only attracted his attention, that he might by a look quell it and throw fear into those breasts where thoughtlessness reigned. Those who felt this sensation of awe, could not explain whence it arose: some attributed it to the dead grey eye, which, fixing upon the object's face, did not seem to penetrate, and at one glance to pierce through to the inward workings of the heart; but fell upon the cheek with a leaden ray that weighed upon the skin it could not pass. His peculiarities caused him to be invited to every house; all wished to see him, and those who had been accustomed to violent excitement, and now felt the weight of ennui, were pleased at having something in their presence capable of engaging their attention. In spite of the deadly hue of his face, which never gained a wanner tint, either from the blush of modesty, or from the strong emotion of passion, though its form and outline were beautiful, many of the female hunters after notoriety attempted to win his attentions, and gain, at least, some marks of what they might term affection: Lady Mercer, who had been the mockery of every monster shewn in drawing-rooms since her marriage, threw herself in his way, and did all but put on the dress of a mountebank, to attract his notice -- though in vain; -- when she stood before him, though his eyes were apparently fixed upon hers, still it seemed as if they were unperceived; -- even her unappalled impudence was baffled, and she left the field. But though the common adultress could not influence even the guidance of his eyes, it was not that the female sex was indifferent to him: yet such was the apparent caution with which he spoke to the virtuous wife and innocent daughter, that few knewhenever addressed himself to females. He had, however, the reputation of a winning tongue; and whether it was that it even overcame the dread of his singular character, or that they were moved by his apparent hatred of vice, he was as often among those females who form the boast of their sex from their domestic virtues, as among those who sully it by their vices. The father of all dandy aristocrat vampires: Aqua Admirabilis with polished boot leather and blood. SARAH (The Tomb of Sarah, F.G. Loring) By half-past ten we were both getting very tired, and I began to think that perhaps after all we should see nothing that night. However, soon after eleven we observed a light mist rising from the 'Sarah Tomb'. It seemed to scintillate and sparkle as it rose, and curled in a sort of pillar or spiral. I said nothing, but I heard the Rector give a sort of gasp as he clutched my arm feverishly. 'Great Heaven!' he whispered, 'it is taking shape.' And, true enough, in a very few moments we saw standing erect by the tomb the ghastly figure of the Countess Sarah! She looked thin and haggard still, and her face was deadly white; but the crimson lips looked like a hideous gash in the pale cheeks, and her eyes glared like red coals in the gloom of the church. Unholy mist congealing into soft, white flesh, with black marble, remnants of liturgical incense, wolf's fur, and black flecks of froth. JULIA STONE (The Room in the Tower, E.F. Benson.) And then, with a sudden start of unexplained dismay, I saw that there were two rather conspicuous objects which I had not seen before in my dreams: one a life-sized oil painting of Mrs. Stone, the other a black-and-white sketch of Jack Stone, representing him as he had appeared to me only a week before in the last of the series of these repeated dreams, a rather secret and evil-looking man of about thirty. His picture hung between the windows, looking straight across the room to the other portrait, which hung at the side of the bed. At that I looked next, and as I looked I felt once more the horror of nightmare seize me. It represented Mrs. Stone as I had seen her last in my dreams: old and withered and white-haired. But in spite of the evident feebleness of body, a dreadful exuberance and vitality shone through the envelope of flesh, an exuberance wholly malign, a vitality that foamed and frothed with unimaginable evil. Evil beamed from the narrow, leering eyes; it laughed in the demon-like mouth. The whole face was instinct with some secret and appalling mirth; the hands, clasped together on the knee, seemed shaking with suppressed and nameless glee. Then I saw also that it was signed in the left-hand bottom corner, and wondering who the artist could be, I looked more closely, and read the inscription, "Julia Stone by Julia Stone." Rotting once-white fabric, spotted with mold. PERLE VON MAUREN (Revelations in Black by Carl Jacobi) I stumbled forward, my eyes quickly accustoming themselves to the half-light from the almost opaque windows. At the end of the corridor a second door barred my passage. I thrust it open - and stood swaying there on the sill staring inward. Beyond was a small room, barely ten feet square, with a low-raftered ceiling. And by the light of the open door I saw side by side in the center of the floor - two white wood coffins. How long I stood there leaning weakly against the stone wall I don't know. There was an odor drifting from out of that chamber. Heliotrope! But heliotrope defiled by the rotting smell of an ancient grave. Then suddenly I leaped to the nearest coffin, seized its cover and ripped it open. Would to heaven I could forget that sight that met my eyes. There the woman in black - unveiled. That face - it was divinely beautiful, the hair black as sable, the cheeks a classic white. But the lips - ! I grew suddenly sick as I looked upon them. They were scarlet.... and sticky with human blood. Heliotrope, grave soil, and blood. All of our current LE's are $17.50 each, and the Pumpkin Booty set is $85 for all five pumpkins. Black Butterfly Moon will be live until August 9, 2009. The Feast For the Greatly Revered Ones, Labores Solis, Nonae Caprotina, Season of the Inundation, and the Festival of Anuket will be live until 8 August 2009. The Summer Garden series, the Last Rose of Summer, Shadowless Like Silence, Summer's Last Will and Testament, Under the Harvest Moon, and Stinky will be live until 6 September 2009. The Halloweenies and Vampire scents will be live (undead) until November 5, 2009. The Literary Vampire series is available here on the Black Phoenix site, and will also be available through the Dark Delicacies booth at Vampire Con. (Del will also be on the vampire panel on Sunday!) That's all for the moment, ladies and gents! Happy (early!) Halloween! From the 30 July 2009 update: SUNBIRD IS LIVE! They were all so hungry the following morning. Zebediah T. Crawcrustle had a comedic apron on, with the words KISS THE COOK written upon it in violently green letters. He had already sprinkled the brandy-soaked raisins and grain beneath the stunted avocado tree behind the house, and he was arranging the scented woods, the herbs, and the spices on the bed of charcoal. Mustapha Stroheim and his family had gone to visit relatives on the other side of Cairo. "Does anybody have a match?" Crawcrustle asked. Jackie Newhouse pulled out a Zippo lighter, and passed it to Crawcrustle, who lit the dried cinnamon leaves and dried laurel leaves beneath the charcoal. The smoke drifted up into the noon air. "The cinnamon and sandalwood smoke will bring the Sunbird," said Crawcrustle. "Bring it from where?" asked Augustus TwoFeathers. "Why, where it always is, third lane after the old market in the Suntown district, just before you reach the old drainage ditch that was once an irrigation canal, and if you find yourself outside One-eye Khayam's carpet shop you have gone too far, "began Crawcrustle. "But I see by the expressions of irritation upon your faces that you were expecting a less succinct, less accurate description. Very well. It is in Suntown, and Suntown is in Cairo, in Egypt, where it always is, or almost always." Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab is thrilled to present a numbered, limited edition chapbook of Neil Gaiman's acclaimed short story, Sunbird, beautifully illustrated by Julie Dillon. Each package includes a 5ml bottle of perfume, created by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, that was inspired by the tale. In Neil's words, "'Sunbird' smells like resin and deserts and the phoenix." This set is a limited run of 1000. 250 were sold by CBLDF at San Diego Comic Con 2009, and the remainder are available through the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab web site. Sunbird will be available on the BPAL site as long as supplies last. A million thanks and all our love to Neil, and to Charles Brownstein and his staff at the CBLDF! This August, we are beginning a series dedicated to Neil Gaiman's 15 Painted Cards From a Vampire Tarot. Each month, a new card will be featured on both the Alchemy Lab and Trading Post sites. Debuting in August: the Fool. Both the perfume oil's label and the corresponding tee were illustrated by the phenomenally ghoulish Madame Talbot. Each scent is a combination of notes inspired by Neil's story and the symbolically correct oils for the card. The Vampire Tarot series made an advance appearance at San Diego Comic Con. Madam Talbot's Fool was joined by a variant set created by our beloved friend, Alicia Dabney. Please keep an eye on the CBLDF's web site for release information on the remaining A. Dabney sets. Sunbird and the 15 Painted Cards From a Vampire Tarot are charitable, not-for-profit ventures: proceeds from every single product go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community. Also upcoming this August - The Death & Dementia Launch Party Commemorating the 200th anniversary of Edgar Allan Poe! Please join Gris Grimly & Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab at Dark Delicacies Sunday, August 23 2009 from 2-4pm Featuring the premiere of… + Gris Grimly's new book Tales of Death and Dementia + Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's new line of scents inspired by Gris Grimly's illustrations + Original artwork from the book on display and for sale + Limited edition silkscreened event posters + Limited edition event t-shirts Dark Delicacies 4213 W. Burbank Burbank, CA 91505 August really is an exciting month here this year! -- This August, BPAL will be presenting a limited edition set of scents based on George Pérez's groundbreaking comic book mini-series, "Sachs and Violens". Part of Marvel's Heavy Hitters line, "Sachs and Violens" was a 4 issue comic book miniseries written by Peter David with art by George Pérez. The series was published by Marvel's Epic Comics imprint from 1993 to 1994. These two scents will debut at Wizard World Chicago at the Hero Initiative booth. They will be available concurrently at www.blackphoenixalchemylab.com. Proceeds from every bottle sold go to the Hero Initiative, the first federally recognized not-for-profit organization dedicated to helping comic book creators, writers and artists in need. Founded in late 2000 by a consortium of comic book and trade publishers including Marvel Comics, Image Comics, Dark Horse Comics, Wizard Entertainment, CrossGen Comics and Dynamic Forces Inc., the 501(c)(3) charity aims to assist comic creators with health, medical, and quality-of-life assistance. George Pérez is one of the most popular and influential comic book artists currently working. He is best known for his work on Crisis on Infinite Earths, New Teen Titans, Wonder Woman, Superman, and the Avengers, and has most recently worked on DC's Final Crisis. Wizard World Chicago will be held August 6 - 9th, 2009 at the Donald E. Stephens Convention Center. The Hero Initiative can be found at booth #1340. The Hero Initiative will be hosting a really, really kickass, unique event at Wizard World Chicago to launch the line. Keep yer eyes peeled for details! Please stay tuned, as we'll be posting purchasing information for the Who Killed Amanda Palmer series as soon as we have it, and for information regarding the debut of the Hellboy series! Up-to-date information can be snagged here in the Shiny & New section of our site, through our mailing list, on the bpal.org forum, or through Twitter (@bpal & @bethshepsut). From the 5 July 2009 update: Berry Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! BERRY MOON In August, the large masses of berries, which, when in flower, had attracted many wild bees, gradually assumed their bright velvety crimson hue, and by their weight again bent down and broke their tender limbs. -- Henry David Thoreau A golden summer musk with warm fig, orange blossom honey, sweet blueberries, and bright velvety crimson raspberries.  Both the tee and the perfume will be live at their respective sites until July 9, 2009. Also new to the LE's this month… STINKY A cure for sweaty bits and sticky wilting. Stinky is a summer refresher 'foom for people that don't dig run-of-the-mill "clean" scents: newly-washed skin with a dusting of rice milk, white honey, and baby powder. Ars Amatoria has two new perfumes… APEROTOS EROS Strong as death, and cruel as the grave, Clothed with cloud and tempest's blackening breath, Known of death's dread self, whom none outbrave, Strong as death, Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath, Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave, Burns above a world that groans beneath. Hath not pity power on thee to save, Love? hath power no pity? Nought he saith, Answering: blind he walks as wind or wave, Strong as death. Unloving love: benzoin, Indian musk, massoia bark, myrrh, ambrette seed, galbanum, bergamot, and fir. WHOSO LIST TO HUNT Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind! But as for me, alas, I may no more; The vain travail hath wearied me so sore, I am of them that furthest come behind. Yet may I by no means my wearied mind Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore Fainting I follow; I leave off therefore, Since in a net I seek to hold the wind. Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt, As well as I, may spend his time in vain. And graven with diamonds in letters plain, There is written her fair neck round about, "Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am, And wild for to hold, though I seem tame." Sensual brown musk, rich amber, English rose, oak bark, and moss. And a whole lot is going on at the Mad Tea Party… ALICE'S EVIDENCE There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the King had said that day. 'That proves his guilt,' said the Queen. 'It proves nothing of the sort!' said Alice. 'Why, you don't even know what they're about!' 'Read them,' said the King. The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. 'Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?' he asked. 'Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, 'and go on till you come to the end: then stop.' These were the verses the White Rabbit read:- They told me you had been to her, And mentioned me to him: She gave me a good character, But said I could not swim. He sent them word I had not gone (We know it to be true): If she should push the matter on, What would become of you? I gave her one, they gave him two, You gave us three or more; They all returned from him to you, Though they were mine before. If I or she should chance to be Involved in this affair, He trusts to you to set them free, Exactly as we were. My notion was that you had been (Before she had this fit) An obstacle that came between Him, and ourselves, and it, Don't let him know she liked them best, For this must ever be A secret, kept from all the rest, Between yourself and me. 'That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet,' said the King, rubbing his hands; 'so now let the jury-' 'If any one of them can explain it,' said Alice, (she had grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn't a bit afraid of interrupting him,) 'I'll give him sixpence. I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it.' The jury all wrote down on their slates, 'She doesn't believe there's an atom of meaning in it,' but none of them attempted to explain the paper. 'If there's no meaning in it,' said the King, 'that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn't try to find any…' Containing nary a neutron of meaning: rum-quince-cassis with prune and a bit of black ginger. ALL IN THE GOLDEN AFTERNOON All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little hands are plied While little hands make vain pretence Our wanderings to guide Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour Beneath such dreamy weather, To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather! Yet what can one poor voice avail Against three tongues together? Imperious Prima flashes forth Her edict to 'begin it'- In gentler tone Secunda hopes 'There will be nonsense in it!' - While Tertia interrupts the tale Not more than once a minute. Anon, to sudden silence won, In fancy they pursue The dream-child moving through a land Of wonders wild and new, In friendly chat with bird or beast - And half believe it true. And ever, as the story drained The wells of fancy dry, And faintly strove that weary one To put the subject by, 'The rest next time -It is next time!' The happy voices cry. Thus grew the tale of Wonderland Thus slowly, one by one, Its quaint events were hammered out - and now the tale is done, And home we steer, a merry crew, Beneath the setting sun. Alice! a childish story take, And with a gentle hand Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twined In Memory's mystic band, Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowers Plucked in far-off land A bizarre blend of pineapple, tangerine, tobacco, apricot, and seltzer coated with hazy amber and heady sun-baked flowers. TWINKLE, TWINKLE LITTLE BAT Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you're at! Up above the world you fly, Like a teatray in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle little bat! How I wonder what you're at! A sparkly, batty little scent: green tea, melon, mint, lime rind, and champagne grape with lemon balm, mullein, and toadflax. Two new subsections have been added to MTP - ++ THE GARDEN OF LIVE FLOWERS This time she came upon a large flower-bed, with a border of daisies, and a willow-tree growing in the middle. IMPERIOUS TIGER-LILY `O Tiger-lily,' said Alice, addressing herself to one that was waving gracefully about in the wind, `I wish you could talk!' `We can talk,' said the Tiger-lily: `when there's anybody worth talking to." Alice was so astonished that she could not speak for a minute: it quite seemed to take her breath away. At length, as the Tiger-lily only went on waving about, she spoke again, in a timid voice -- almost in a whisper. `And can all the flowers talk?' `As well as you can,' said the Tiger-lily. `And a great deal louder.' (Tiger-lily, ginger root, neroli, purple fruits, and frankincense.) SNOOTY ROSE `It isn't manners for us to begin, you know,' said the Rose, `and I really was wondering when you'd speak! Said I to myself, "Her face has got some sense in it, thought it's not a clever one!" Still, you're the right colour, and that goes a long way.' `I don't care about the colour,' the Tiger-lily remarked. `If only her petals curled up a little more, she'd be all right.' (Red rose, oud, plum, bergamot, and red sandalwood.) Alice didn't like being criticised, so she began asking questions. `Aren't you sometimes frightened at being planted out here, with nobody to take care of you?' `There's the tree in the middle,' said the Rose: `what else is it good for?' `But what could it do, if any danger came?' Alice asked. HIGH-STRUNG DAISIES `It says "Bough-wough!" cried a Daisy: `that's why its branches are called boughs!' `Didn't you know that?' cried another Daisy, and here they all began shouting together, till the air seemed quite full of little shrill voices. `Silence, every one of you!' cried the Tiger-lily, waving itself passionately from side to side, and trembling with excitement. `They know I can't get at them!' it panted, bending its quivering head towards Alice, `or they wouldn't dare to do it!' `Never mind!' Alice said in a soothing tone, and stooping down to the daisies, who were just beginning again, she whispered, `If you don't hold your tongues, I'll pick you!' There was silence in a moment, and several of the pink daisies turned white. `That's right!' said the Tiger-lily. `The daisies are worst of all. When one speaks, they all begin together, and it's enough to make one wither to hear the way they go on!' (Daisy, pink carnation, pink pepper, and sugar.) `How is it you can all talk so nicely?' Alice said, hoping to get it into a better temper by a compliment. `I've been in many gardens before, but none of the flowers could talk.' `Put your hand down, and feel the ground,' said the Tiger-lily. `Then you'll know why. Alice did so. `It's very hard,' she said, `but I don't see what that has to do with it.' `In most gardens,' the Tiger-lily said, `they make the beds too soft -- so that the flowers are always asleep.' This sounded a very good reason, and Alice was quite pleased to know it. `I never thought of that before!' she said. `It's my opinion that you never think at all,' the Rose said in a rather severe tone. BRUSQUE VIOLET `I never saw anybody that looked stupider,' a Violet said, so suddenly, that Alice quite jumped; for it hadn't spoken before. `Hold your tongue!' cried the Tiger-lily. `As if you ever saw anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away there, till you know no more what's going on in the world, that if you were a bud!' (Violet petal, violet leaf, osmanthus, orris, mint, and opoponax.) `Are there any more people in the garden besides me?' Alice said, not choosing to notice the Rose's last remark. `There's one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,' said the Rose. `I wonder how you do it -- ' (`You're always wondering,' said the Tiger-lily), `but she's more bushy than you are.' `Is she like me?' Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed her mind, `There's another little girl in the garden, somewhere!' `Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,' the Rose said, `but she's redder -- and her petals are shorter, I think.' `Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia,' the Tiger-lily interrupted: `not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.' `But that's not your fault,' the Rose added kindly: `you're beginning to fade, you know -- and then one can't help one's petals getting a little untidy.' And… ++MORAL HYMNODY AND NONSENSE Lewis Carroll used the Looking Glasses and Rabbit Holes of his fantasy world to mock many contemporary conventions and demonstrate, through nonsense, the strangeness of the human condition. The madness of Wonderland illustrated the absurdities he perceived in the strict, orderly world he lived in. In the first perfumes of this subseries, our scents parallel the poetic parodies: Lewis Carroll versus Isaac Watts. HOW DOTH THE LITTLE CROCODILE How doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every golden scale! How cheerfully he seems to grin, How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little fishes in With gently smiling jaws! Chocolate peppermint, mint-soaked vanilla, pistachio, oakmoss, and green cedar. Mocks… AGAINST IDLENESS AND MISCHIEF How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour And gather honey all the day From every opening flower! How skilfully she builds her cell! How neat she spreads the wax! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labour or of skill, I would be busy too; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play, Let my first years be passed, That I may give for every day Some good account at last. Pollen-dusted honey, diligent tonka, steadfast chamomile, and goodly hyssop. And… 'TIS THE VOICE OF THE LOBSTER 'Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare 'You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.' As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes. When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark, And will talk in contemptuous tones of the shark; But, when the tide rises and sharks are around, His voice has a timid and tremulous sound. I passed by his garden and marked, with one eye, How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie: The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat, While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat. When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon, Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon: While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl, And concluded the banquet by- A woody, musky-weird base glooping over with blackberry preserves, a twist of mandarin, strawberry juice, pulverized watermelon, and a handful of smushed gardenia petals. Thumbs its nose at… THE SLUGGARD 'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, "You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again." As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed, Turns his sides and his shoulders and his heavy head. "A little more sleep, and a little more slumber;" Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number, And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands, Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands. I pass'd by his garden, and saw the wild brier, The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher; The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags; And his money still wastes till he starves or he begs. I made him a visit, still hoping to find That he took better care for improving his mind: He told me his dreams, talked of eating and drinking; But scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking. Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me," This man's but a picture of what I might be: But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding, Who taught me betimes to love working and reading. Pious frankincense, angelic gardenia, unsoiled pear, and staunch ho wood conflict with prickly, overgrown thistle, idle labdanum, and lethargic lavender. Tiger Lily (Mad Tea Party) is also being discontinued due to the pressure of the current economic stress on our associates. Sincerest apologies for the suddenness of all these discontinuation! - we had no notice at all of two of the primary components of TL going dry, and just received the email with the bad news this morning. All current orders will be filled, and it will be coming down with the Lunacy on July 9th. Imperious Tiger Lily was intended to be a complimentary scent - the Tiger Lily in her element, ordering the other garden inhabitants about and berating Alice - she was meant to be the queen of the Garden of Live Flowers subsection, so to speak. Looks like her inception was fortunate, as her original incarnation has to come down. Or it was a jinx. o.O I wish there was more we could do to stem the hemorrhage. Component issues have been plaguing BPTP, causing bottlenecks with the Warrior Queens. We're doing everything in our power to get all the WQ's out as quickly as possible. Thank you so much for your patience! But enough of the gloomy gussitude… We have so many amazing, exciting projects coming up this season. The next set of DD Summer Blockbuster scents will be featured at our upcoming trunk show at Dark Delicacies, and a limited run of the first scents in our California series (these are exclusive to C15) will be available at Convergence 15. We're still busting our asses to get the next act of CD out as quickly as possible - finalizing some additional artwork now, cleaning up the copy, and securing final sources for the components. Some really fucking great stuff will be debuting at Comic Con on behalf of the CBLDF (details forthcoming!), and we are working with a few brilliant illustrators, authors, musicians, and comic gods on scents that will be debuting late this summer. A new duets series is due at BPTP, and new baths, soaps, and atmospheric schpritzers are coming soon. From the 2 July 2009 update: Due to circumstances beyond out control, the following scents have been discontinued: Erich Zahn Eris Madrid Masabakes Marianne Severin Succubus Tannin'iver Thank you so much for understanding! From the 6 June 2009 update: Smoky Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! SMOKY MOON 2009: TRISTESSES DE LA LUNE The Smoke-Veiled Moon of July brought a poem of Baudelaire’s to my mind: Ce soir, la lune rêve avec plus de paresse; Ainsi qu'une beauté, sur de nombreux coussins, Qui d'une main distraite et légère caresse Avant de s'endormir le contour de ses seins, Sur le dos satiné des molles avalanches, Mourante, elle se livre aux longues pâmoisons, Et promène ses yeux sur les visions blanches Qui montent dans l'azur comme des floraisons. Quand parfois sur ce globe, en sa langueur oisive, Elle laisse filer une larme furtive, Un poète pieux, ennemi du sommeil, Dans le creux de sa main prend cette larme pâle, Aux reflets irisés comme un fragment d'opale, Et la met dans son coeur loin des yeux du soleil. - - - Tonight the moon dreams with more indolence, Like a lovely woman on a bed of cushions Who fondles with a light and listless hand The contour of her breasts before falling asleep; On the satiny back of the billowing clouds, Languishing, she lets herself fall into long swoons And casts her eyes over the white phantoms That rise in the azure like blossoming flowers. When, in her lazy listlessness, She sometimes sheds a furtive tear upon this globe, A pious poet, enemy of sleep, In the hollow of his hand catches this pale tear, With the iridescent reflections of opal, And hides it in his heart afar from the sun's eyes. (English translation by William Aggeler, 1954) Soft sandalwood, nicotiana, and velvety orris drifting over lustrous pale musks, stephanotis, elemi, and cyclamen. The tee --  Artwork for this lunacy is the Woman in the Moon by Aubrey Beardsley. The scent and the tee will be live until 10 June 2009. This summer, we are celebrating the Aztec Feast For the Greatly Revered Ones! THE FEAST FOR THE GREATLY REVERED ONES Huey Tecuilhuitl, the Great Festival of Lords, occurs on the 8th month of the 260-day Mexica sacred calendar of Tonalpualli. This festival honors Chicomecoatl, also known as Xilonen, the Goddess of Nourishment and Plenty, Seven Snakes. She represents the female aspect of corn, and she is the counterpart of Centeotl, -- the female sheath to his phallic cob. The celebration of the Feast assured the return of the rains and a good corn harvest. Cacao mixed with ground maize, agave wine, and octli, mixed with herbs and spices native to central Mexico. A tee celebrating the Feast For the Greatly Revered Ones is also live!  Artwork by Jennifer Williamson! The scent and the tee will be live until 8 August 2009. Also new to the LEs… LABORES SOLIS Nothing there is beyond hope, nothing that can be sworn impossible, nothing wonderful, since Zeus, father of the Olympians, made night from mid-day, hiding the light of the shining Sun, and sore fear came upon men. On July 22, we will be experiencing a total solar eclipse. This is the Labores Solis: the sun’s rays expressed through frankincense, amber, heliotrope, saffron, and chamomile, crossed with Luna’s Artemisias, manifesting in darkness. NONAE CAPROTINA The Nones of the Wild Fig, held on the 7th of July and celebrated only by women, is a festival of fertility honoring Juno Caprotina. Both goats and figs are sacred to Juno in this aspect, goats being notoriously randy, and figs being prolifically seedy. The milky sap of the fig tree also links to the concept of fertility, and to Juno as Mother Goddess. The scent is of goat’s milk, ripe fig, and a hint of sweet myrrh. Please note: no goats were milked in the process of creating this scent. It is an accord, and this scent is vegan. Nonae Caprotina and Labores Solis will be live until 8 August 2009. We are also pleased to announce the first scents in our Nile series… ++ ITERU SEASON OF THE INUNDATION Hail to thee, O Nile! Who manifests thyself over this land, and comes to give life to Egypt! Come and prosper! Come and prosper! O Nile, come and prosper! O you who make men to live through his flocks and his flocks through his orchards! Come and prosper, come, O Nile, come and prosper! Akhet: the advent of the rising of the Nile floods -- the heart of the fertility and prosperity of Egypt. As Sirius climbs the horizon, Hapi begins to collect the tears of Isis, causing the waters of the Nile to rise. As the flood ebbed, the waters left a rich, black silt that was integral to the fecundity of the land. Sweet, black silt mingled with holy myrrh, melilot, hyssop, spikenard, balsam, cedar, and a hint of melting snow from the Abyssinian hills. THE FESTIVAL OF ANUKET Anuket is the Embracer, a Goddess of Passion and of the waters of the Nile that caress the land and bring forth fruitfulness. She is the Nourisher of the Fields, the Giver of Life, and She Who Shoots Forth. A goddess of the hunt, archers, movement, and speed, she has the head of a gazelle, and sometimes wears a headdress of ostrich feathers. She is a protector of children at birth, and nursed many of the great pharaohs of Egypt. Shimmering offerings of gold scattered through life-giving, fertile waters. We will be following the pathways of the Nile this year, through the Season of the Emergence and the Season of the Harvest. Season of the Inundation and the festival of Anuket will be live until 8 August 2009. And lastly, our Summer Garden Miniseries! ++ SUMMER GARDEN MINISERIES LAWN GNOME Benevolent groundskeepers, these carefree plaster and stone companions lighten the hearts of passers by. Red currant, molasses, vanilla cream, moss, and patchouli. PLASTIC PINK FLAMINGO Vigilant day-glo guardians of lawn and patio, stalwart protectors of the home. Pink sugar-crusted marshmallow, dandelion, and sap. SPINNING MULTICOLORED METALLIC PINWHEEL Polycarbonate and metallic film monuments to domestic whimsy, whirling merrily in the summer breeze. Raspberry, lime, blueberry, tangerine, lemon, juniper, and white grape. We live near a cemetery, and on one of the streets that butts up against the graveyard -- the homes share a wall with the cemetery -- there is an abundance of… stuff… on many, many people’s lawns. Gnome motropolises, massive flocks of flamingos, elaborate witch ball dotted trees, plastic butterflies and dragonflies, plump pastel cherubs, and whipping, brightly colored flags. Its amazing. Its not just one house… it’s at least a quarter of the homes over the span of about a mile and a half. I can’t help but think something interesting is permeating these homes because of their proximity to this particular City of the Silent. Driving down that street all the time was part of the inspiration for the Summer Garden series! And truth be told… this series was also inspired, in part, by the many hours I spend staring at my own yard from my home office’s window! I have a demented fondness for gnomes, flamingos (with seasonal outfits), pinwheels, tin birds, stone toads, clay mushrooms, and spinning plastic sunflowers. Garden kitsch: I friggin’ love it all. And that’s it for now! We’re currently working on getting Act VI of the Carnaval ready to go (wewt!) as well as new additions to the GC (at long last!). Please stay tuned. From the 8 May 2009 update: Oh, man. I’m so tired, all I can really do is grunt. Teething: Fun for the Whole Family. Without further grunting, we present… STRAWBERRY MOON 2009 Strawberries that in gardens grow Are plump and juicy fine, But sweeter far as wise men know Spring from the woodland vine. No need for bowl or silver spoon, Sugar or spice or cream, Has the wild berry plucked in June Beside the trickling stream. One such to melt at the tongue's root, Confounding taste with scent, Beats a full peck of garden fruit: Which points my argument. May sudden justice overtake And snap the froward pen, That old and palsied poets shake Against the minds of men. Blasphemers trusting to hold caught In far-flung webs of ink, The utmost ends of human thought Till nothing's left to think. But may the gift of heavenly peace And glory for all time Keep the boy Tom who tending geese First made the nursery rhyme. Wild strawberries, strawberry flower, vanilla-infused sugar, early summer grasses, and milky dandelion sap. And a handful of seasonal pleasures -- JUNE GLOOM It’s May in Los Angeles, and we’re baking slowly as the weather hits the low 100’s… Here at the Lab, we are praying for a little June Gloom. Bright summer flowers, fresh herbs, and a bit of citrus rind dampened by the scent of morning mist and rain. LITHA 2009 Midsummer, Ukon Juhla, Alban Heruin, the Light of the Shore. This is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, marking the sun's highest path across the sky. The Sun God and the Lord of the Forest are at the apex of their strength, and the Holy Day itself is a celebration of light's triumph over darkness. The world around us is teeming with light and life, and on this day fertility rituals for both the land and its people are observed. Golden honey and moss, with honeysuckle, chamomile, parsley, white gardenia, frankincense, carnation, vervain, gum arabic, yarrow, and liquid copal. ST JOHN’S EVE Verily I say unto you, Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist: notwithstanding he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. -- Matthew 11:11 The birth of John the Baptist coincides with the Summer Solstice, and in keeping with the eternal rhythm of the universe, John understood that as the sun’s strength begins to wane after the Summer Solstice, so did he move aside after preparing the way for the Winter King, Christ. Ye yourselves bear me witness, that I said, I am not the Christ, but that I am sent before him. He that hath the bride is the bridegroom: but the friend of the bridegroom, which standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the bridegroom's voice: this my joy therefore is fulfilled. He must increase, but I decrease. -- John 3:28-30 St. John’s holy day is full of holy significance that is so primal and archetypal that it transcends any one faith. It is a merging of the rituals of Midsummer with symbols of Biblical faith. On this eve, prayers to God for bountiful harvests and fertility are said over St. John’s blessed bonfires, a leap over the sacred flames brings good fortune in new undertakings and unions, and the waters of rivers and lakes bring renewed strength, vitality, and spiritual cleansing. A summer bonfire, with frankincense and myrrh, bay rum, and white rose. The ‘Post is presenting its Lunacy tee in two colors this month… pink and white!  And the ‘Post is also offering a lovely, empowering summer Inquest… WARRIOR QUEENS I am the queen of war. I am the queen of the thunderbolt. I stir up the sea and calm it. I am the rays of the Sun. We live in a challenging time. Conflict, uncertainty, tension… All of us sometimes feel that adversity threatens to overwhelm us, and that we are facing -- both on a personal and worldwide scale -- insurmountable difficulty. To help combat this, we present the Warrior Queens series -- a very different sort of Goblin Inquest. This is an Inquest of Self-Empowerment. Both men and women can find strength within the tales of these Warrior Queens, and may see that through these archetypes, they enable themselves to draw upon a deeper well of internal fortitude. It's at times like this that we need to look within ourselves and celebrate our triumphs, remember our victories, and use these memories, and the stories of those who came before us, to find courage amidst chaos and hardship. We invite you to share tales of your personal victories with us as you tell us which Warrior you identify with most, and why. A little about our Heroines… BOADICEA Rebel Queen of the Iceni, she led an uprising of the tribes against the Roman Empire. After Claudius’ conquest of the area, the Iceni voluntarily allied themselves to Rome, though Rome was not a gentle parent state. The Romans conquered much of Brittania, desecrated the sacred groves at Mona, and slaughtered the druids. When Boadicea’s husband, Prasutagus, died, his will was ignored and his massive financial debt to Rome was called in forcefully. Iceni was annexed as though it was a conquered territory, property and estates were seized, both tribal nobility and the common folk were enslaved. When Boadicea objected to the treatment of her lands and her people, she was flogged, and her children were grievously injured. Boadicea took her vengeance. Under the leadership of Boadicea, the Iceni and Trinovantes united with their neighbors and the surviving druids of Mona to instigate a rebellion. They cut a swath of furious destruction. Her warriors slaughtered Legionary forces, and destroyed Camulodunum, Londinium, and Verulamium -- so scorching the earth beneath Londinium that the scar is still visible beneath modern London. HER PERFUME Amber, fig, vanilla flower, oak, patchouli, vetiver, dragon’s blood resin, leather, and neroli. HER BATH Fig, neroli, amber, vanilla, patchouli, pine needle, and vetiver. HUA MULAN Click, click, for ever click, click; Mulan sits at the door and weaves. Listen, and you will not hear the shuttle’s sound, But only a girl’s sobs and sighs. ‘Oh, tell me, lady, are you thinking of your love, Oh, tell me, lady, are you longing for your dear?’ ‘Oh no, oh no, I am not longing for my dear. But last night I read the battle-roll; The Khan has ordered a great levy of men. The battle-roll was written in twelve books, And in each book stood my father’s name. My father’s sons are not grown men, And of all of my brothers, none is older than me. Oh let me to the market to buy saddle and horse, And ride with the soldiers to take my father’s place.’ In the eastern market she’s bought a gallant hors. In the western market she’s bought saddle and cloth. In the southern market she’s bought snaffle and reins. In the northern market she’s bought a tall whip. In the morning she stole from her father’s and mother’s house. At night she was camping by the Yellow River’s side. She could not hear her father and mother calling to her by name, But only the voice of the Yellow River as its waters swirled through the night. At dawn they left the River and went on their way; At dusk they came to the Black Water’s side. She could not hear her father and mother calling to her by her name, She could only hear the muffled voices of foreign horsemen riding on the hills of Yen. A thousand leagues she tramped on the errands of war. Frontiers and hills she crossed like a bird in flight. Through the northern air echoed the watchman’s tap; The wintry light gleamed on coats of mail. The captain had fought a hundred fights, and died; The warriors in ten years had won their rest. The went home, they saw the Emperor’s face; The Son of Heaven was seated in the Hall of Light. The deeds of the brave were recorded in twelve books; In prizes he gave a hundred thousand cash. Thus spoke the Khan and asked her what she would take. ‘Oh, Mulan asks not to be made A counsellor at the Khan’s court; I only beg for a camel that can march A thousand leagues a day, To take me back to my home.’ When her father and mother heard that she had come, They went out to the wall and led her back to the house. When her little sister heard that she had come, She went to the door and rouged herself afresh. When her little brother heard that his sister had come, He sharpened his knife and darted like a flash Towards the pigs and sheep. She opened the gate that leads to the eastern tower, She sat on her bed that stood in the western tower. She cast aside her heavy soldier’s cloak, And wore again her old-time dress. She stood at the window and bound her cloudy hair; She went to the mirror and fastened her yellow combs. She left the house and met her messmates in the road; Her messmates were startled out of their wits. The had marched with her for twelve years of war And never know that Mulan was girl. For the male hare sits with its legs tucked in, And the female hare is known for her bleary eye; But set them both scampering side by side, And who so wise could tell you ‘This is he’? HER PERFUME Pink musk, white ginger, tea leaf, night blooming jasmine, bergamot, and leather. HER BATH White ginger, tea leaf, night blooming jasmine, neroli, rose, and lotus root. JINGU Known as Pimoko, the sun-daughter, Jingu was an Empress of Japan who served as regent and de facto ruler between the time of the death of her husband and the ascension of her son, Emperor Ojin. Sure that knowledge of her husband’s death would bring discord to her realm, she managed to keep his passing a secret, and successfully put down numerous insurrections in his name. Although she was pregnant with the future emperor of Japan, she donned armor and rode into battle, leading the conquest of Silla. HER PERFUME Sakura, white orchid, mandarin, bamboo, red sandalwood, plum blossom, and lilac. HER BATH Sakura, plum wine, and rice flower. SEMIRAMIS A legendary Assyrian queen, often identified with Sammu-Ramat, the wife of Shamshi-Adad V, she was believed to be the daughter of the goddess Atargatis. Her youth was filled with mythic adventure, and her otherworldly beauty and voluptuous sexuality ensured her two advantageous marriages. When she took the reins of power of Empress of Assyria, she expanded her kingdom by conquering much of Mesopotamia and Asia. She beautified and revitalized Babylon, and implemented improvements in Nineveh that helped to moderate the flow of the Tigris. She was renowned for her military and political prowess, as well as her ferocious and merciless sexual appetite. HER PERFUME Red musk, pomegranate, orange blossom, and melon. HER BATH Red musk, pomegranate, red cherry, myrrh, and blood orange. TOMOE GOZEN A "warrior worth a thousand, ready to confront a demon or a god, mounted or on foot." Tomoe Gozen was a fierce, noble, and courageous samurai, first captain, as well as a renowned beauty. She was an excellent swordswoman, famed for her riding ability and her skill at archery. She fought for Minamoto no Yoshinaka at Battle of Awazu, and her forces were defeated. Legend says she was seen holding the severed head of one of her foes on the battlefield, and vanished, never to be seen again. HER PERFUME Red currant, golden amber, blackberry, honey, and pink pepper. HER BATH Red currant and honey. YSABEL Isabella I, Queen of Castile and León, was a proponent of education, establishing lasting institutions of higher learning, a patron of scholars and artists, and an enthusiastic sponsor of exploratory expeditions, including Christopher Columbus’ voyage to the New World. She possessed a great military mind, and was integral in the retaking of Grenada, thus sealing the Reconquista. With her husband, Ferdinand, she ruled with equal authority and power, unifying Spain and laying the foundations of the Spanish Empire. HER PERFUME Red carnation, red roses, Spanish cedar, velvet musk, pomegranate, clove, and incense. HER BATH Frankincense, benzoin, carnation, and balsam of Peru. ZENOBIA Zenobia was Queen of the Palmyrene Empire. She assumed leadership of her nomadic tribe after her father’s death, eventually marrying King Septimius Odaenathus. Zenobia seemed a contradiction: chaste, dark-eyed, and lovely, but able to drink, fight, and make war like a man. She fought, on horseback, alongside her husband in many battles, and ruled the Empire with a fair and just hand after her husband’s passing. To her people, she was the Lady of Victory, conquering several Roman provinces, including Egypt, and expelling the prefect, Tenagino Probus, who was beheaded after he led an attempt to seize back control of the territory for Rome. Her conquests enabled her to control many vital trade routes, further earning her the ire of the Romans. Unfortunately, she eventually overextended her reach. She was betrayed, and then captured by Emperor Aurelian, displayed in chains in a triumphal procession through Rome, her Empire dissolved. Rather than capitulate to misfortune, she made a new life for herself, and became a Roman matron, philosopher, and socialite. HER PERFUME Orris, clove, costus storax, patchouli, hyssop, frankincense, balsam, and saffron. HER BATH Orris, amber, balsam, calamus, and frankincense. Each set comes with a 5ml bottle of the Queen’s perfume, a 4oz bottle of the Queen’s bath oil, and a squirt of Templum Victoriae Atmospheric Spray: frankincense, olive leaf, champaca, beeswax, amber, and bay myrtle. If you choose not to submit a story, you can leave the selection up to us, or you can specify your choice of Queen in the comments field. Each of the Warrior Queens are only sold as a set, the packs cannot be split up, and the products in this LE cannot be sold on their own. You may place an order for multiple sets, or place multiple orders; in either case, each will be considered separately in the course of the Inquest process. If you are placing an order for more than one set, you may submit multiple tales, applicable to each order. Please indicate which statement or quiz result pertains to which order. You have until May 31, 2009 to participate, at which point the Inquest will end. Please note: Inquests will not begin to ship until May 22, 2009. And with that, I’m going to crawl into bed. Good night, all! From the 7 April 2009: Planting Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! PLANTING MOON As is the garden such is the gardener, A man’s nature runs either to herbs or to weeds. –Francis Bacon This Full Moon marks a time for new growth, both within nature and within our spirits. It is a time of fertility and fruitfulness, for sowing seeds to ensure blessings and bounty later in the year. The scent of Planting Moon is that of summer squashes, pole beans, tomato leaves, upturned earth, and sun-warmed herbs.  The scent (at BPAL) and the tee (at BPTP) will be live until April 11, 2009. The Velvet Painting Exhibit will be departing the Salon on June 1, 2009, and Le Mat will also vanish from Black Phoenix Trading Post that day. From the 13 March 2009 update: Happy Friday the 13th! o.O From the 9 March 2009 update: Flower Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! FLOWER MOON April, too, marks the apex of the year's fertility, expresses the reawakening of the sexuality of the Earth and her inhabitants, and May's full moon celebrates both the fecundity of the creatures and flora of this world and the vibrancy, rejuvenation and life-affirming energy of Spring. Flower Moon embodies the unrestrained bliss, energy and color of the season: a bouquet of vivid, sexy blooms, coated in thick, golden honey... wisteria, swamp jasmine, honeysuckle, daffodil, rhododendron, phlox, and a mix of California wildflowers. Trading Post presents a lovely, petal-dappled phoenix tee by Jennifer Williamson! --  And in the spirit of springtime flora, there are some new additions to the Garden at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! THE APPLE OF SODOM …their vine is of the vine of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah: their grapes are grapes of gall, their clusters are bitter. The tree’s bark is grey and cork-like, and the fruit, when ripe, is bright yellow, comely and sweet-scented. After their success in tempting Adam and Eve to the knowledge of sin, Satan and his cronies celebrated by partaking of the Apple: There stood A Grove hard by, sprung up with this thir change, His will who reigns above, to aggravate Thir penance, laden with Fruit like that Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve Us'd by the Tempter: on that prospect strange Thir earnest eyes they fix'd, imagining For one forbidden Tree a multitude Now ris'n, to work them furder woe or shame; Yet parcht with scalding thurst and hunger fierce, Though to delude them sent, could not abstain, But on they rould in heaps, and up the Trees Climbing, sat thicker then the snakie locks That curld Megæra: greedily they pluck'd The Frutage fair to sight, like that which grew Neer that bituminous Lake where Sodom flam'd; This more delusive, not the touch, but taste Deceav'd; they fondly thinking to allay Thir appetite with gust, instead of Fruit Chewd bitter Ashes, which th' offended taste With spattering noise rejected: oft they assayd, Hunger and thirst constraining, drugd as oft, With hatefullest disrelish writh'd thir jaws With soot and cinders fill'd; so oft they fell Into the same illusion, not as Man Whom they triumph'd once lapst. Thus were they plagu'd And worn with Famin, long and ceasless hiss, Till thir lost shape, permitted, they resum'd, Yearly enjoynd, some say, to undergo This annual humbling certain number'd days, To dash thir pride, and joy for Man seduc't. Native to the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, this fruit turns to ashes when plucked as a sign of God’s displeasure. BOHUN UPAS The Tree of Poisons. Every aspect of this tree is toxic, from the narcotic, lethal fumes that it emits, to its oozing, poisonous sap. A deceptively tranquil scent: heady fruits, dry bark, and deep green leaves, enveloped by a dark and sinister murk. THE LOTUS TREE Thence the winds bore me, blowing fierce and fell, Across the fish-abounding ocean swell A nine-days’ space: and on the tenth we reached The land where the Lotus-eaters dwell, Who fed on flowery food: there landed we And drew us water, and by the sea By the swift ships taking our midday meal We drank and ate bread in sufficiency. Then of my crew I sent to bring me word, Exploring inland, what they saw or heard Of dwellers on the acres, choosing out Twain, and as a herald with them for the third. And straightway going forth, anigh they drew The Lotus-eaters; who against our crew Devised not hurt, but gave them of the fruit To taste upon the lotus-trees that grew. But whoso of them once began to eat The lotus-fruit, that is as honey sweet, Had no will longer in him to return Or bring back tidings, but desired to fleet His days among the lotus-eating men, Eating the lotus, nor return again. Howbeit I drove them weeping to the ships, And to the ships’ hold haled and bound them then Under the benches: but I bade anon My fellows to the swift ships get them gone In haste, that none might of the lotus-fruit Eat, and forget the way he went upon. Honey-sweet and soporific. THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE OF GOOD AND EVIL After these things, surveying the entrances of the north, above the mountains, I perceived seven mountains replete with pure nard, odoriferous trees, cinnamon and papyrus. From there I passed on above the summits of those mountains to some distance eastwards, and went over the Erythraean sea. And when I was advanced far beyond it, I passed along above the angel Zateel, and arrived at the garden of righteousness. In this garden I beheld, among other trees, some which were numerous and large, and which flourished there. Their fragrance was agreeable and powerful, and their appearance both varied and elegant. The tree of knowledge also was there, of which if any one eats, he becomes endowed with great wisdom. It was like a species of the tamarind tree, bearing fruit which resembled grapes extremely fine; and its fragrance extended to a considerable distance. I exclaimed, How beautiful is this tree, and how delightful is its appearance! Then holy Raphael, an angel who was with me, answered and said, This is the tree of knowledge, of which your ancient father and your aged mother ate, who were before you; and who, obtaining knowledge, their eyes being opened, and knowing themselves to be naked, were expelled from the garden. Whiffs of cinnamon bark, almond, and spikenard surround a perfect fruit, whose scent is akin to a tamarind, with the grace of a fine grape, as warm and rich as a fresh fig, glistening red like pomegranate seeds, and as crisp as an apple. YA-TE-VO Travelers have told us of a plant, which they assert grows in Central Africa and also in South America, that is not contented with myriad of larger insects which it catches and consumes, but its voracity extends to making even humans its prey. This marvelous vegetable Minotaur is represented as having a short, thick trunk, from the top of which radiate giant spines, narrow and flexible but of extraordinary tenaciousness, the edges of which are armed with barbs, or dagger-like teeth. Instead of growing upright, or at an inclined angle from the trunk, these spines lay their outer ends upon the ground, and so gracefully are they distributed that the trunk resembles an easy couch with green drapery around it. The unfortunate traveler, ignorant of the monstrous creation which lies in his way, and curious to examine the strange plant, or to rest himself upon its inviting stalk approaches without a suspicion of his certain doom. The moment his feet are set within the circle of the horrid spines, they rise up, like gigantic serpents, and entwine themselves about him until he is drawn upon the stump, when they speedily drive their daggers into his body and thus complete the massacre. The body is crushed until every drop of blood is squeezed out of it and becomes absorbed by the gore-loving plant, when the dry carcass is thrown out and the horrid trap set again. Barbed, sanguinary greenery, fleshy and sharp. THE ZIEBA TREE A massive tree that held, in its lowest boughs, a nest of bare-breasted men and women. The souls sprawled within the Zieba Tree’s branches were trapped in reverie, lost for all eternity in their fantasies. A dreamlike, listless scent, misty and hazed, with wisps of white sandalwood, eddying musks the colors of eventide, shimmering pale resins, davana, lemon blossom, orange blossom, and white peach. The world is in the midst of massive upheaval, and to help keep the uncertainty, fear, and fretting at bay, we present a new type of Chaos Theory that melds the comfort and harmony of the familiar with a injection of jolly tumult... CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star. - Friedrich Nietzsche A new take on Chaos! For this series, we decided to try a different type of chaotic experimentation. Each CT:5 scent has a base of one of the following scents, in wildly varying proportions: Dorian O Penitence Snake Oil From these bases comes a new series of flowing, fragrant fractals that emanate from these four roots. Random combinations of oils have been added to every individual bottle, resulting in a truly unique blend that retains some of the tone, essence, and soul of the original. This is an exercise in the joy of chance and uncertainty! Each is a one-of-a-kind, utterly random combination of scents, the composition of which is based on whim, mood and gut instinct. Most common allergens have been omitted from the experiment. No pennyroyal, no nuts, no cinnamon, no cassia. Regardless, if you have any sensitivities, please do not participate in Chaos Theory. The contents of the oils are not recorded [that's the whole point!] and we will not be able to answer questions about specific bottles of CT:5 or guarantee that an allergen is not present in your order. By purchasing CT:5, you agree to absolve Black Phoenix of any responsibility related to an allergic reaction to one of the oils in this series. Please make a responsible choice, and use caution and discretion when ordering. This is intended to be a fun, exciting project. Please bear in mind that all Black Phoenix oils are made in an environment that contains nuts, both literally and figuratively. The Chaos blends were created by m‘self, Doc Constantine, and Mister Teddy from Black Phoenix Trading Post, so you get an extra dollop of chaos! We hope that you enjoy these scents as much as we enjoyed creating them! CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V1 The Dorian Series CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V2 The O Series CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V3 The Penitence Series CHAOS THEORY V: RECURSIVE SELF-SIMILARITY V4 The Snake Oil Series A portion of all the proceeds from CT:5 will go to United Way. Flower Moon will be live until March 13th, and CT:5 will be live until April 15th! Black Phoenix Trading Post is OVERJOYED to present the first in a series of lockets and pendants inspired by the short stories of Neil Gaiman! This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single piece go to Match It For Pratchett, which is raising money to match Terry Pratchett’s $1,000,000.00 donation to the Alzheimer’s Research Trust. Thank you so much, Neil, for giving us so many years of joy, wonder, and inspiration, and for the pleasure of working with you on this project! Heartfelt thanks to Alicia Dabney and Julie Dillon for providing the artwork for the lockets and pendant! Also new to the Post -- the Brimstone and Triple Dagger pendants! Until next time, ladies and gents! From the 1 March 2009 update: Beware the Ides of March! -- THE IDES OF MARCH 2009 The Ides marked an auspicious time in the Roman calendar. Depending on the month in question, the Ides fell on the thirteenth or fifteenth, and usually marked the Full Moon. As we all know, it was not an auspicious day for Julius Caesar, nor was it fortuitous for H.P. Lovecraft, who also met his maker on this infamous day. Tu quoque, Brute, fili mi! A mixture of Italian greenery, gleaming metal, and classical Roman cologne: rosemary, bergamot, lemon rind and vervain with costus, balsam, benzoin, gray amber, dittany, white narcissus and iris. Irish bards were members of a hereditary caste of learned poets. They were officials of the courts of their chieftains and kings, and served as historians, storytellers, and satirists. They were immersed in the rich history of their clan and country, and learned the intricacies of their craft from birth. Their words held so much power that it was believed that a glam dicing, or satirical incantation, spoken by a bard held the magic of a curse. This series is celebration of great Irish poets and storytellers. Through these poems, we touch the glory, beauty, and grief that permeates the soul of Ireland. ++ BARDS OF IRELAND THE DESERTED VILLAGE OLIVER GOLDSMITH … Good heaven! What sorrows gloomed that parting day, That called them from their native walks away; When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, Hung round their bowers and fondly looked their last, And took a long farewell, and wished in vain For seats like these beyond the western main; And shuddering still to face the distant deep, Returned and wept, and still returned to weep. The good old sire the first prepared to go To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe; But for himself, in conscious virtue brave, He only wished for worlds beyond the grave. His lovely daughter, lovelier in her years, Silent went next, neglectful of her charms, And left a lover's for a father's arms. With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes, And blessed the cot where every pleasure rose; And kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear, And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear; Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief In all the silent manliness of grief. O luxury! thou cursed by heaven's decree, How ill exchanged are things like these for thee! How do thy potions with insidious joy Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy! Kingdoms, by thee to sickly greatness grown Boast of a florid vigour not their own. At every draught more large and large they grow, A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe; Till sapped their strength and every part unsound, Down, down they sink and spread a ruin round. Even now the devastation has begun, And half the business of destruction done; Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand, I see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail, That idly waiting flaps with every gale, Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore and darken all the strand. Contented toil and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness are there; And piety, with wishes placed above, And steady loyalty and faithful love. And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; Unfit, in these degenerate times of shame, To catch the heart or strike for honest fame; Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, my solitary pride; Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe, That found'st me poor at first and keep'st me so; Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel, Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well! Farewell, and oh, where'er thy voice be tried, On Torno's cliffs or Pambamarca's side, Whether where equinoctial fervours glow, Or winter wraps the polar world in snow, Still let thy voice, prevailing over time, Redress the rigours of the inclement clime; Aid slighted truth; with thy persuasive strain Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain; Teach him that states of native strength possessed, Though very poor, may still be very blest; That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay, As ocean sweeps the laboured mole away; While self-dependent power can time defy, As rocks resist the billows and the sky. Where wealth accumulates and men decay. A scent of opulence, luxury, depredation, and dissolusion: velvety orris root and glittering bergamot, ambergris, red currant, honey, and neroli, with red oakmoss, patchouli, labdanum, and black musk. THE DOLE OF THE KING’S DAUGHTER OSCAR WILDE Even stars in the still water, And seven in the sky; Seven sins on the King's daughter, Deep in her soul to lie. Red roses at her feet, (Roses are red in her red-gold hair) And O where her bosom and girdle meet Red roses are hidden there. Fair is the knight who lieth slain Amid the rush and reed, See the lean fishes that are fain Upon dead men to feed. Sweet is the page that lieth there, (Cloth of gold is goodly prey,) See the black ravens in the air, Black, O black as the night are they. What do they there so stark and dead? (There is blood upon her hand) Why are the lilies flecked with red? (There is blood on the river sand.) There are two that ride from the south to the east, And two from the north and west, For the black raven a goodly feast, For the King's daughter to rest. There is one man who loves her true, (Red, O red, is the stain of gore!) He hath duggen a grave by the darksome yew, (One grave will do for four.) No moon in the still heaven, In the black water none, The sins on her soul are seven, The sin upon his is one. Red roses, blood-flecked lilies, upturned earth, yew branches, and blood mingled with river sand. EANACH DHÚIN ANTOINE Ó RAIFTEIRI If my health is spared I'll be long relating Of that boat that sailed out of Anach Cuain. And the keening after of mother and father And child by the harbour, the mournful croon! King of Graces, who died to save us, T'were a small affair but for one or two, But a boat-load bravely in calm day sailing Without storm or rain to be swept to doom. What wild despair was on all the faces To see them there in the light of day, In every place there was lamentation, And tearing of hair as the wreck was shared. And boys there lying when crops were ripening, From the strength of life they were borne to clay In their wedding clothes for their wake they robed them O King of Glory, man's hope is in vain. Unutterable grief expressed through the scent of balsam, frankincense, blackberry leaf, oud, white rose, driftwood, zdravetz, and bitter clove, beneath the cold waters of the River Corrib. THE HOST OF THE AIR WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS O'Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart Lake. And he saw how the reeds grew dark At the coming of night-tide, And dreamed of the long dim hair Of Bridget his bride. He heard while he sang and dreamed A piper piping away, And never was piping so sad, And never was piping so gay. And he saw young men and young girls Who danced on a level place, And Bridget his bride among them, With a sad and a gay face. The dancers crowded about him And many a sweet thing said, And a young man brought him red wine And a young girl white bread. But Bridget drew him by the sleeve Away from the merry bands, To old men playing at cards With a twinkling of ancient hands. The bread and the wine had a doom, For these were the host of the air; He sat and played in a dream Of her long dim hair. He played with the merry old men And thought not of evil chance, Until one bore Bridget his bride Away from the merry dance. He bore her away in his arms, The handsomest young man there, And his neck and his breast and his arms Were drowned in her long dim hair. O'Driscoll scattered the cards And out of his dream awoke: Old men and young men and young girls Were gone like a drifting smoke; But he heard high up in the air A piper piping away, And never was piping so sad, And never was piping so gay. Peat and rolling grass-covered hills, with wine-dappled heather, white clover, cloudberry, juniper berry, bluebell, dandelion, and cross-leaved heath. The Ides of March and the Bards of Ireland will be with us until 15 April 2009! Happy Friday the 13th! From the 6 February 2009 update: Windy Moon is live! WINDY MOON Stinging wind whips past the trees, stripping the dead and decaying bark from their trunks. This is a time of renewal, both earthly and spiritual. The scent of wind and wood, and the smoke of council fires burning in the distance. Windy Moon will be live until February 11, 2009. From the 10 January 2009 update: Bony Moon and Earth Ox are live at Black Phoenix! BONY MOON In the stark darkness of February, food is so scarce that some are forced to chew bones and make marrow soup for nourishment. It is a time when we honor our ancestors with fasting, solemn ritual, and reflection on the triumphs and accomplishments of those who have passed before us. White sandalwood, dry cedar, and radiant, crisp lunar herbs. EARTH OX A new year's blessing! Peony, China's national flower, with bamboo for flexibility, plum blossom for perseverance, courage, and hope, tangerine for wealth, orange for happiness, lychee for household peace, pine resin for constancy, golden kumquat and quince for prosperity, narcissus and King mandarin for good fortune, peach blossom for longevity, oakmoss, plum, and tobacco for stability, and a splash of blazing red of dragon's blood... to help you scare away the rampaging Nian. Lupercalia is upon us, and the world is suffused with symbols of love and lust. Here at Black Phoenix, that is triply true! Our offerings during this Season of Schtupping contain adult material, and by clicking through to view the images and purchase our products, you are agreeing that you are a dirty bird who is 18 or older, and that you are permitted by law to view suggestive imagery. For your pleasure, we are thrilled to present another whimsical sojourn to the bedrooms of Edo-era Japan -- Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements II: A Shunga Exhibition.  And… Ode to Aphrodite, a series inspired by the timeless beauty of vintage nude postcard photography; in our vision, each of these women illustrates a facet of the splendor of the goddess of love.  Before we go any further, we present a scent whose proceeds support the work of the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund: 413 U.S. 15 / Miller Vs California In 1974, a court ruling established a litmus test for obscenity in the United States. Does the First Amendment protect dirty birds? Yes, and no; it depends on where you are and what your neighbors perceive as naughty. The Court's majority opinion stated that material could only be defined as obscene if "(a) the average person, applying contemporary community standards, would find that the work, taken as a whole, appeals to the prurient interest; [and] (b) the work depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct specifically defined by the applicable state law; and (c) the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value" If all three conditions are satisfied, voilà! - your work is obscene. But is it art? Although a work considered to have literary, artistic, political, or scientific value cannot, in theory, constitutionally be found to be obscene regardless of whether it appeals to prurient interest or is patently offensive, the question lies in how we can possibly determine with certainty whether or not a film, photograph, tale, or limerick has social value when philosophical and moral compasses vary so wildly from person to person and community to community. Is a perfume inspired by an 18th Century painting of a dildo obscene? What would your friends and neighbors say? 413 U.S. 15 / MILLER VS CALIFORNIA Leather, cognac, fig, ripe berry, and cream, stuffed into a plain brown paper bag. For traditionalists with a sweet tooth, we present Box of Chocolates! - Dark Chocolate and Cherry Dark Chocolate and Pepper-Smoked Caramel Milk Chocolate Buttercream White Chocolate, Marshmallow, and Coconut White Chocolate and Strawberry White Chocolate and Sugared Violets The whole Box can be purchased as a set for $100. Inspired by the sensuality and smuttiness of the season, we have added two new scents to the general catalogue: ++ EXCOLO EROS And eros again the loosener of limbs makes me tremble A sweet-bitter unmanageable creature. Myrrh, lilac, and honey wine with crimson tea leaf and sweet resins. ++ ARS AMATORIA PRURIENCE An unwholesome scent. A craving, an itch. This scent smoulders with a lust that singes the edge of your nerves and leaves your soul chilled: red amber and scorched musk with voluptuous carnation, charred vetiver, sensuous tonka, and orris. Box of Chocolates, Ode to Aphrodite, Bony Moon, Earth Ox, The Yules, and Wind in the Willows are $17.50 each, the Resurrected and Anniversary scents are $20.00 each, Miller Vs California is $25.00, and the Shunga scents are $23.50 each. The whole Box of Chocolates is available for $100US. The Yules, Resurrected, Anniversary, and Wind in the Willows scents will be live until January 15, 2009, and Miller Vs California, the Box, Ode to Aphrodite, and the Shunga series will be live until March 13, 2009. Bony Moon and Eath Ox will be live until January 13, 2009. Bony Moon is live at the 'Post!  Adorable artwork by Jennifer Williamson! It will be live until January 13, 2009. Love is in the air at BPTP, and to celebrate, we're offering a complete Valentine's Day sensory experience: A room spray… LUPANAR Good God, what a night that was, The bed was so soft, and how we clung, Burning together, lying this way and that, Our uncontrollable passions Flowing through our mouths. If I could only die that way, I'd say goodbye to the business of living. Honey, myrrh, ylang ylang, and almond. An exercise in control and release: GLACIES BATH OIL For cooling the libido and soothing the senses. Cucumber mint, sea lettuce, French lavender, geranium bourbon, and lemon balm. INCENDIA For stimulating the libido and arousing the senses. Vanilla, palmarosa, patchouli, jasmine, cocoa absolute, bergamot, sweet orange, nutmeg, ylang ylang, rose otto, and Haitian vetiver. And a set of perfumes designed to illustrate the synergy of love and lust: In alchemy, the white and red roses symbolize the male / female polarity, the active and receptive, the light and the dark. Together, the roses become the alchemical concept of Mercury: perfect unity. Our Red Rose scent is the embodiment of vigorous passion, and our White Rose personifies purity, virtue, and unconditional love. The scents individually are powerful, but layered together - combined - they become their perfected self. RED ROSE Red rose buds, with amber, clove, tonka, Indian musk, fir, and tobacco. WHITE ROSE White rose buds, with vanilla tea, benzoin, orris, coconut meat, and frankincense. The Trading Post Valentine offerings will be available until March 13, 2009. From the 11 December 2008 update: Before I get to the good stuff, here's the bad stuff… As many of you out there know, the USPS site has been on the fritz for the past few days, which is hindering our ability to get orders out smoothly. At this time, we're utilizing other methods of processing postage. Your orders will still be going out via USPS, but you may not receive a Click n'Ship notification. Due to all of the redass the USPS site is giving us, we're going a little slower on the shipping than usual. This applies to both BPAL and BPTP orders. Currently, BPAL and BPTP are shipping orders from the middle through end of November. We are working diligently to find ways to circumvent the problems with the USPS site, and we'll do everything in our power to get your orders out to you asap. Thanks for your patience, guys! December just isn't an easy month, is it? Now onto the good stuff… The Moon of the Terrible is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! On New Year's Day each thought a loneliness as winter dusk descends Desolation at the last moment in the gloaming on New Year's Day: winter snow with lavender, benzoin, lychee, white resins, and a cluster of melancholy, lachrymose lunar herbs and florals. And... the Moon of the Terrible tee is at Black Phoenix Trading Post!  Mauve and slate grey ink on black tee. Artwork by the inimitable Jennifer Williamson. Please note: orders that include the Moon of the Terrible tee will not ship in time for Christmas. Lunacy tees do not go into production until we're done taking orders for them, and they take a few weeks to be made. Now that Storytime has come down at Black Phoenix Trading Post, the goblins are able to get crackin' on reading the pleas. Due to the nature of this project, there is a delay in getting these out so we can ensure that every order gets the attention it deserves. Storytime packs will begin to ship after the 15th. The Moon of the Terrible will be live on both sites until 14 December 2008! Happy holidays, everyone! We hope you have the happiest of happy 2009s! From the 22 November 2008 BPTP update: The 'Post has a whole bunch o'new stuff! New to the GC Bath Oils: INVIDIA O, beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock The meat it feeds on. White grapefruit, tea leaf, white ginger, orange blossom, jasmine, honey myrtle, and lime. PATIENTIA Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish. -- John Quincy Adams Sandalwood, benzoin, cardamom, calamus, palmarosa, and sage. And new to the GC Atmosphere Sprays: DOC CONSTANTINE'S MEDICINE SHOW Polished wood, olibanum, questionable medicinal herbs, sarsaparilla, and a splash of bay rum. OKIYA Cherry blossom, green tea, and sake. SALOON #10 Nuttal & Mann's Saloon No. 10, Deadwood, Black Hills, Dakota Territory: sweaty leather, chewing tobacco, and Red Eye. We are phasing out the 8oz room sprays, so only the Queen's Croquet Ground, Cathouse, and Down the Rabbit Hole will be offered in that size. All of the GC sprays are available in 4oz bottles, and in Goblin Squirt form! We are thrilled to present this season's limited edition offerings: The Bah Humbug tee!  ++ WINTER ATMOSPHERE SPRAY SNOW WHITE A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. ++ WINTER BATH OILS ICE PRINCE BATH OIL As beautiful and cold as a December storm. Crystalline musk, winter lily, bergamot, plum, and frozen pine boughs. PROSERPINA BATH OIL For thine came pale and a maiden, and sister to sorrow; but ours, Her deep hair heavily laden with odour and colour of flowers, White rose of the rose-white water, a silver splendour, a flame, Bent down unto us that besought her, and earth grew sweet with her name. The emergence of light in darkness. Frozen pomegranate and a hint of nocturnal blossoms. WINTER MAIDEN BATH OIL Ice-rimed innocence. The blush of youth, frozen for eternity. Snow-laden woods, iced blackberry and bergamot, white rose, and crystallized amber. HOLIDAY STRESS RELIEF BATH OIL Relax, revive, restore. Peppermint, spearmint, geranium bourbon, lavender, clary sage, white amber, juniper berry, laurel leaf, coriander, opoponax, and mandarin. Please note: Snow White Atmosphere Spray is only offered in the 4oz size. The bath oils are all 8oz. Holiday Stress Relief is $40US due to the cost of the components, and Winter Maiden, Ice Prince, and Proserpina are $30US. And… This season's Inquisition is live! The Goblins of Yuletide Storytime! Tell your tale and receive an atmosphere spray and a perfume oil in a fancy schmancy green velveteen pouch! Storytime and the Bah Humbug tee will be live until December 5, 2008, and the winter room spray and bath oils will be live until December 15, 2008. A quickie public service announcement: Please note that all Black Phoenix Trading Post orders, including domestic orders, are currently taking an excess of 14 - 21 business days to process, pack and ship out due to a heavy workload. Lunacy and Inquisition items may exceed 21 - 28 days to process. All of our products are handmade, and the tees are hand-screened. Due to the nature of the beast, Trading Post cannot guarantee Christmas shipping on orders that contain Storytime, but we will do our very best. Thank you for understanding! Pendants and new scent lockets are coming soon! And that's it for now! From the 18 November 2008 update: OMFG, happy sixth anniversary to Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! We are overjoyed to present six phoenixes that represent what we strive for, and two Resurrected blends: METAL PHOENIX Tenacity, force, strength, stability, and determination: Chinese musk and gleaming white metal with honeysuckle, rose mallow, verbena, and carnation. WOOD PHOENIX Flexibility, cooperation, expansiveness, and altruism: Chinese musk and five woods with newly budding bamboo shoots, hyssop, chamomile, pink clove, magnolia, walnut, and fig. WATER PHOENIX Compassion, eloquence, introspection: Chinese musk and rain, with salty oceanic notes, frankincense, juniper berry, lily of the valley, lavender, cinquefoil, and sweet pea. FIRE PHOENIX Enterprise, adventure, restlessness, impulsiveness, and dynamism: Chinese musk and red musk with hyacinth, cactus flower, cubeb berry, galangal, tobacco, pink pepper, and sarsaparilla. EARTH PHOENIX Hard work, patience, and harmony: Chinese musk, dark musk, and moist soil with black cherry, opoponax, night-blooming jasmine, plum, woodland tobacco, snakeweed, and cypress. And because its just plain silly to take yourself too seriously… CANDY PHOENIX A dusky, effervescent mix of pomegranate and black currant candies, with a dusting of sugared pear and white apple. 2008's Resurrected scents are: BEAVER'VERSARY Cheesecake and cupcakes, yo! This is Beaver Moon 2005 resurrected! SNAKE CHARMER: RESURRECTED Sensual, sibilant, sexual and hypnotic: Arabian musk and exotic spices slinking through Egyptian amber, enticing vanilla, and a serpentine blend of black plum, labdanum, ambrette, benzoin and black coconut. The Anniversary and Resurrected scents are $20 each, and will be live until January 15, 2009. Moon of Small Spirits (BPAL, not BPTP) and the Halloweenies have been extended til November 19, 2008. The BPTP update will be live this week. Keep those eyes peeled! (Ew. Peeled eyes.) A little bit of biz'ness schtuff… In order to receive your package by Christmas Eve... Internationals! Please place your order by December 6th. Domestics! Please place your order by December 13th. Please bear in mind that we are not responsible for USPS shenanigans. We do promise that we will bust our asses to get you your orders asap! Holy. Moly. SIX FRIGGIN' YEARS! A million thanks to our beloved customers for being our friends and our extended family, for helping us make our dreams a reality, and for celebrating anniversaries, births, and unions with us! A million thanks to the administrators and moderators of the bpal.org forum for their love, support, and crazyhard work! And a million thanks to our wonderful staff for helping us stink up the world! From the 12 November 2008 update: Moon of Small Spirits is live at BPAL! It will be available until November 15, 2008! This month's lunacy was inspired by the cold fullness of the moon, the beauty of the season, the quiet renewal of life that winter symbolizes, and by Carl Sandburg's Poem "Early Moon": MOON OF SMALL SPIRITS The baby moon, a canoe, a silver papoose canoe, sails and sails in the Indian west. A ring of silver foxes, a mist of silver foxes, sit and sit around the Indian moon. One yellow star for a runner, and rows of blue stars for more runners, keep a line of watchers. O foxes, baby moon, runners, you are the panel of memory, fire-white writing to-night of the Red Man's dreams. Who squats, legs crossed and arms folded, matching its look against the moon-face, the star-faces, of the West? Who are the Mississippi Valley ghosts, of copper foreheads, riding wiry ponies in the night?-no bridles, love-arms on the pony necks, riding in the night a long old trail? Why do they always come back when the silver foxes sit around the early moon, a silver papoose, in the Indian west? Snow-blanketed wild grasses, sage, swamp tea, cedar, giniminagawunj, copal, rosehip, juniper, clover, elderberry, sweet flag, butterfly weed, wood sorrel, and pine. The BPTP Small Spirits update will be a little bit late - its going to be live tomorrow night. The winter Inquisition will be live at BPTP soon. Apologies for the delay on the BPTP update and the Inquisition! Your humble narrator is still adjusting to motherhood. Hee. From the Halloween 2008 update: Happy Halloween, everybody! We are overjoyed to present a new perfume series celebrating Neil Gaiman's brilliant new novel, the Graveyard Book. I truly adore this story, and have already read it several times to Miss Lilith. The story is light, yet melancholy, witty and charming, suspenseful and sweet -- it is an absolute pleasure in every way. Like all of Neil's work, it runs through the full spectrum of emotion, and I'll admit to you guys… I cried quite a few times while I read it. I love stories that move me. Thank you, Neil, for the opportunity to interpret your story in scent! We love the Graveyard Book, and we love you! ++ THE GRAVEYARD BOOK BANANA PEEL IN A GRAVEYARD "We can put the food here," said Silas. "It's cool, and the food will keep longer." He reached into the box, pulled out a banana. "And what would that be when it was at home?" asked Mrs Owens, eyeing the yellow and brown object suspiciously. "It's a banana. A fruit, from the tropics. I believe you peel off the outer covering," said Silas, "Like so." The child - Nobody - wriggled in Mrs Owens arms, and she let it down to the flagstones. It toddled rapidly to Silas, grasped his trouser-leg and held on. Silas passed it the banana. Mrs Owens watched the boy eat. "Ba-na-na," she said, dubiously. "Never heard of them. Never. What's it taste like?" "I've absolutely no idea," said Silas, who consumed only one food, and it was not bananas. "You could make up a bed in here for the boy, you know." A banana peel discarded among tombstones and crypts. THE CONVOCATION A small sign in the hotel lobby announced that the Washington Room was taken that night by a private function, although there was no information as to what kind of function this might be. Truthfully, if you were to look at the inhabitants of the Washington Room that night, you would have no clearer idea of what was happening, although a rapid glance would tell you that there were no women in there. They were all men, that much was clear, and they sat at round dinner tables, and they were finishing their dessert. There were about a hundred of them, all in sober black suits, but the suits were all they had in common. They had white hair or dark hair or fair hair or red hair or no hair at all. They had friendly faces or unfriendly, helpful or sullen, open or secretive, brutish or sensitive. The majority of them were pink-skinned, but there were black-skinned men and brown-skinned. They were European, African, Indian, Chinese, South American, Filipino, American. They all spoke English when they talked to each other, or to the waiters, but the accents were as diverse as the gentlemen. They came from all across Europe and from all over the world. A macabre mélange of swanky men's colognes. EAU DE GHOUL They all started telling stories, then, of how fine and wonderful a thing it was to be a ghoul, of all the things they had crunched up and swallowed down with their powerful teeth. Impervious they were to disease or illness, said one of them. Why, it didn't matter what their dinner had died of, they could just chomp it down. They told of the places they had been, which mostly seemed to be catacombs and plague-pits ("Plague Pits is good eatin'," said the Emperor of China, and everyone agreed.) They told Bod how they had got their names and how he, in his turn, once he had become a nameless ghoul, would be named, as they had been. "But I don't want to become one of you," said Bod. "One way or another," said the Bishop of Bath and Wells, cheerily, "you'll become one of us. The other way is messier, involves being digested, and you're not really around very long to enjoy it." "But that's not a good thing to talk about," said the Emperor of China."Best to be a Ghoul. We're afraid of nuffink!" And all the ghouls around the coffin-wood fire howled at this statement, and growled and sang and exclaimed at how wise they were, and how mighty, and how fine it was to be scared of nothing. Dessicated skin coated in blackened ginger, cinnamon, and mold-flecked dirt, with cumin, bitter clove, leather, and dried blood. GHÛLHEIM Ghouls do not build. They are parasites and scavengers, eaters of carrion. The city they call Ghûlheim is something they found, long ago, but did not make. No one they call knows (if anyone human ever knew) what kind of creatures it was that made those buildings, who honeycombed the rock with tunnels and towers, but it is certain that no-one but the ghoul-folk could have wanted to stay there, or even to approach that place. Even from the path below Ghûlheim, even from miles away, Bod could see that all of the angles were wrong -- that the walls sloped crazily, that it was every nightmare he had ever endured made into a place, like a huge mouth of jutting teeth. It was a city that had been built just to be abandoned, in which all the fears and madnesses and revulsions of the creatures who built it were made into stone. The ghoul folk had found it and delighted in it and called it home. A dark and disjointed scent: smoke and black musk, bladderwrack, opopponax, galangal, and pepper. THE LADY ON THE GREY A huge white horse, of the kind that the people who know horses would call a "grey", came ambling up the side of the hill. The pounding of its hooves could be heard before it was seen, along with the crashing it made as it pushed through the little bushes and thickets, through the brambles and the ivy and the gorse that had grown up on the side of the hill. The size of a Shire horse it was, a full nineteen hands or more. It was a horse that could have carried a knight in full armour into combat, but all it carried on its naked back was a woman, clothed from head to foot in grey. Her long skirt and her shawl might have been spun out of old cobwebs. Her face was serene, and peaceful. They knew her, the graveyard folk, for each of us encounters the lady on the grey at the end of our days, and there is no forgetting her. The horse paused beside the obelisk. In the east the sky was lightening gently, a pearlish, pre-dawn luminescence that made the people of the graveyard uneasy and made them think about returning to their comfortable homes. Even so, not a one of them moved. They were watching the lady on the grey, each of them half-excited, half-scared. The dead are not superstitious, not as a rule, but they watched her as a Roman Augur might have watched the sacred crows circle, seeking wisdom, seeking a clue. And she spoke to them. In a voice like the chiming of a hundred tiny silver bells she said only, "The dead should have charity." And she smiled. Ethereal, opalescent, and radiant: pearly sandalwood, white amber, tobacco flower, orris, castoreum bouquet, soft resins, and pale petals. THE MACABRAY Mistress Owens pushed him out of the Owens's little tomb. "Get along with you," she said. "I've got business to attend to." Bod looked at his mother. "But it's cold out there," he said. "I should hope so," she said, "it being Winter. That's as it should be. Now," she said, more to herself than to Bod, "shoes. And look at this dress - it needs hemming. And cobwebs--there are cobwebs all over, for heaven's sakes. You get along," this to Bod once more. "I've plenty to be getting on with, and I don't need you underfoot." And then she sang to herself, a little couplet Bod had never heard before. "Rich man, poor man, come away. Come to dance the Macabray." "What's that?" asked Bod, but it was the wrong thing to have said, for Mistress Owens looked dark as a thundercloud, and Bod hurried out of the tomb before she could express her displeasure more forcefully. It was cold in the graveyard, cold and dark, and the stars were already out. Bod passed Mother Slaughter in the ivy-covered Egyptian Walk, squinting at the greenery. "Your eyes are younger than mine, young man," she said. "Can you see blossom?" "Blossom? In winter?" "Don't you look at me with that face on, young man," she said. "Things blossom in their time. They bud and bloom, blossom and fade. Everything in its time." She huddled deeper into her cloak and bonnet and she said, "Time to work and time to play, Time to dance the Macabray. Eh, boy?" "I don't know," said Bod. "What's the Macabray?" White winter flowers plucked from a snow-covered graveyard. MISS LUPESCU "Bod," said Silas. "This is Miss Lupescu." Miss Lupescu was not pretty. Her face was pinched and her expression was disapproving. Her hair was grey, although her face seemed too young for grey hair. Her front teeth were slightly crooked. She wore a bulky mackintosh, and a man's tie around her neck. "How do you do, Miss Lupescu?" said Bod. Miss Lupescu said nothing. She sniffed. Then she looked at Silas and said, "So. This is the boy." She got up from her seat and walked all around Bod, nostrils flared, as if she were sniffing him. When she had made a complete circuit, she said, "You will report to me on waking, and before you go to sleep. I have rented a room in a house over there." She pointed to a roof just visible from where they stood. "However, I shall spend my time in this graveyard. I am here as a historian, researching the history of old graves. You understand, boy? Da?" "Bod," said Bod. "It's Bod. Not boy." "Short for Nobody," she said. "A foolish name. Also, Bod is a pet name. A nickname. I do not approve. I will call you 'boy'. You will call me 'Miss Lupescu'." Bod looked up at Silas, pleadingly, but there was no sympathy on Silas's face. He picked up his bag and said, "You will be in good hands with Miss Lupescu, Bod. I am sure that the two of you will get on." "We won't!" said Bod. "She's horrible!" "That," said Silas, "Was a very rude thing to say. I think you should apologise, don't you?" Bod didn't, but Silas was looking at him and he was carrying his black bag, and about to leave for no-one knew how long, so he said, "I'm sorry Miss Lupescu." At first she said nothing in reply. She merely sniffed. Then she said, "I have come a long way to look after you, boy. I hope you are worth it." Animalic musk, with amber, patchouli, ho wood, cypress, almond blossom, golden sandalwood, and strange spices. THE OWENS' TOMB "I'll do no such thing, with Owens and me having a lovely little tomb over by the daffodil patch. Plenty of room in there for a little one." Marble and dust surrounded by burdock, knotweed, dandelions, daffodils, and long-dead calla lilies. THE POTTER'S FIELD Silas walked across the path without disturbing a fallen leaf, and sat down on the bench, beside Bod. "There are those," he said, in his silken voice, "who believe that all land is sacred. That it is sacred before we come to it, and sacred after. But here, in your land, they blessed the churches and the ground they set aside to bury people in, to make it holy. But they left land unconsecrated beside the sacred ground, potter's fields to bury the criminals and the suicides or those who were not of the faith." "So the people buried in the ground on the other side of the fence are bad people?" Silas raised one perfect eyebrow. "Mm? Oh, not at all. Let's see, it's been a while since I've been down that way. But I don't remember anyone particularly evil. Remember, in days gone by you could be hanged for stealing a shilling. And there are always people who find their lives have become so unsupportable they believe the best thing they could do would be to hasten their transition to another plane of existence." Rich loam, fragrant grasses, murky vetiver, wild herbs, and dry cedar bark. The artwork on the page is by the amazing Jennifer Rodgers! Thank you, Jennifer! The proceeds from every single bottle in this series go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, which works to preserve and protect the First Amendment rights of the comics community! More Graveyard Book scents are in the works, so please do stay tuned! We at Black Phoenix hope you have the happiest and most horrific of Halloweens! May your candy bags overflow with candy, and your homes stay free of rotten eggs and wads of toilet paper! From the 13 October 2008 update: The Lunacy is live at BPAL and BPTP! ++ A LITTLE LUNACY MOURNING MOON As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls, to go, Whilst some of their sad friends do say, 'The breath goes now,' and some say, 'No:' So let us melt, and make no noise, No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move; 'Twere profanation of our joys To tell the laity our love. Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears; Men reckon what it did, and meant; But trepidation of the spheres, Though greater far, is innocent. Dull sublunary lovers' love (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit Absence, because it doth remove Those things which elemented it. But we by a love so much refin'd, That ourselves know not what it is, Inter-assured of the mind, Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss. Our two souls therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two; Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if the' other do. And though it in the centre sit, Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans, and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must Like th' other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end, where I begun. Ethereal, somber, and woeful: Chinese musk, wisteria, white grapefruit, calla lily, violet leaf, orange, gaiac wood, balsam of Peru, and Florentine iris. We *love* this month's lunacy tee! --  Artwork by Jennifer Williamson! The Lunacy will be live on both sites until October 17 2008! I've got a crazybad head cold, and that can only mean one thing: autumn is upon is, and the Yule update is live! Ha HA! First, let's tackle what's new in the GC - Please give an enthusiastic round of applause and a warm welcome to all the Prince Charmings, Wicked Witches, Bitchy Stepsisters, and Fair Damsels in the crowd - Marchen is live! ++ MARCHEN: BEAUTY AND THE BEAST BELLE VINU There was once a very rich merchant, who had six children, three boys and three girls. As he was himself a man of great sense, he spared no expense for their education. The three daughters were all handsome, but particularly the youngest; indeed, she was so very beautiful, that in her childhood every one called her the Little Beauty; and being equally lovely when she was grown up, nobody called her by any other name, which made her sisters very jealous of her. This youngest daughter was not only more handsome than her sisters, but also was better tempered. The two eldest were vain of their wealth and position. They gave themselves a thousand airs, and refused to visit other merchants' daughters; nor would they condescend to be seen except with persons of quality. They went every day to balls, plays, and public walks, and always made game of their youngest sister for spending her time in reading or other useful employments. As it was well known that these young ladies would have large fortunes, many great merchants wished to get them for wives; but the two eldest always answered, that, for their parts, they had no thoughts of marrying any one below a duke or an earl at least. Beauty had quite as many offers as her sisters, but she always answered, with the greatest civility, that though she was much obliged to her lovers, she would rather live some years longer with her father, as she thought herself too young to marry. It happened that, by some unlucky accident, the merchant suddenly lost all his fortune, and had nothing left but a small cottage in the country. Upon this he said to his daughters, while the tears ran down his cheeks, "My children, we must now go and dwell in the cottage, and try to get a living by labour, for we have no other means of support." The two eldest replied that they did not know how to work, and would not leave town; for they had lovers enough who would be glad to marry them, though they had no longer any fortune. But in this they were mistaken; for when the lovers heard what had happened, they said, "The girls were so proud and ill-tempered, that all we wanted was their fortune: we are not sorry at all to see their pride brought down: let them show off their airs to their cows and sheep." But everybody pitied poor Beauty, because she was so sweet-tempered and kind to all, and several gentlemen offered to marry her, though she had not a penny; but Beauty still refused, and said she could not think of leaving her poor father in this trouble. At first Beauty could not help sometimes crying in secret for the hardships she was now obliged to suffer; but in a very short time she said to herself, "All the crying in the world will do me no good, so I will try to be happy without a fortune." Red sandalwood, vanilla, rosewood, osmanthus, and white peach. THE ROSE When they found that their father must take a journey to the ship, the two eldest begged he would not fail to bring them back some new gowns, caps, rings, and all sorts of trinkets. But Beauty asked for nothing; for she thought in herself that all the ship was worth would hardly buy everything her sisters wished for. "Beauty," said the merchant, "how comes it that you ask for nothing: what can I bring you, my child?" "Since you are so kind as to think of me, dear father," she answered, "I should be glad if you would bring me a rose, for we have none in our garden." Now Beauty did not indeed wish for a rose, nor anything else, but she only said this that she might not affront her sisters; otherwise they would have said she wanted her father to praise her for desiring nothing. The promise of a rose: red rose petals, fresh sap, and the sharp green scent of stem and leaf. ++ MARCHEN: EGLE, QUEEN OF SERPENTS EGLE In another time, long ago lived an old man and his wife. Both of them had twelve sons and three daughters. The youngest being named Egle. On a warm summer evening all three girls decided to go swimming. After splashing about with each other and bathing they climbed onto the riverbank to dress and groom their hair. But the youngest, Egle, only stared for a serpent had slithered into the sleeve of her blouse. What was she to do? The eldest girl grabbed Egle's blouse. She threw the blouse down and jumped on it, anything to get rid of the serpent. But the serpent turned to the youngest, Egle, and spoke to her in a man's voice: Egle, promise to become my bride and I will gladly come out. Egle began to cry how could she marry a serpent? Through her tears she answered: Please give me back my blouse and return from whence you came, in peace. But the serpent would not listen: Promise to become my bride and I will gladly come out. There was nothing else she could do; she promised the serpent to become his bride. Ocean water, hyacinth petals, star jasmine, and fir. When you return go alone, just you and the children and when you approach the beach then call for me: Zilvine, Zilvineli, If alive, may the sea foam milk If dead, may the sea foam blood... And if you see coming towards you foaming milk then know that I am still alive, but if blood comes then I have reached my end. While you, my children, let not the secret out, do not let anyone know how to call for me. THE SEA FOAMS MILK Milk cresting on an ocean wave. THE SEA FOAMS BLOOD Blood rising through an ocean wave. ++ MARCHEN: PRUNELLA PRUNELLA There was once upon a time a woman who had an only daughter. When the child was about seven years old she used to pass every day, on her way to school, an orchard where there was a wild plum tree, with delicious ripe plums hanging from the branches. Each morning the child would pick one, and put it into her pocket to eat at school. For this reason she was called Prunella. Now, the orchard belonged to a witch. One day the witch noticed the child gathering a plum, as she passed along the road. Prunella did it quite innocently, not knowing that she was doing wrong in taking the fruit that hung close to the roadside. But the witch was furious, and next day hid herself behind the hedge, and when Prunella came past, and put out her hand to pluck the fruit, she jumped out and seized her by the arm. 'Ah! you little thief!' she exclaimed. 'I have caught you at last. Now you will have to pay for your misdeeds.' Ripe purple plums, wildflowers, and cream. BENSIABEL As the years passed Prunella grew up into a very beautiful girl. Now her beauty and goodness, instead of softening the witch's heart, aroused her hatred and jealousy. One day she called Prunella to her, and said: 'Take this basket, go to the well, and bring it back to me filled with water. If you don't I will kill you.' The girl took the basket, went and let it down into the well again and again. But her work was lost labour. Each time, as she drew up the basket, the water streamed out of it. At last, in despair, she gave it up, and leaning against the well she began to cry bitterly, when suddenly she heard a voice at her side saying 'Prunella, why are you crying?' Turning round she beheld a handsome youth, who looked kindly at her, as if he were sorry for her trouble. 'Who are you,' she asked, 'and how do you know my name?' 'I am the son of the witch,' he replied, 'and my name is Bensiabel. I know that she is determined that you shall die, but I promise you that she shall not carry out her wicked plan. Will you give me a kiss, if I fill your basket?' 'No,' said Prunella, 'I will not give you a kiss, because you are the son of a witch.' 'Very well,' replied the youth sadly. 'Give me your basket and I will fill it for you.' And he dipped it into the well, and the water stayed in it. Then the girl returned to the house, carrying the basket filled with water. When the witch saw it, she became white with rage, and exclaimed 'Bensiabel must have helped you.' And Prunella looked down, and said nothing. Plum juice, lilac, leather, and a smattering of herbs. ++ MARCHEN: RAPUNZEL RAPUNZEL Rapunzel was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old the Witch shut her up in a tower, in the middle of a great wood, and the tower had neither stairs nor doors, only high up at the very top a small window. When the old Witch wanted to get in she stood underneath and called out: `Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your golden hair,' for Rapunzel had wonderful long hair, and it was as fine as spun gold. Whenever she heard the Witch's voice she unloosed her plaits, and let her hair fall down out of the window about twenty yards below, and the old Witch climbed up by it. Angel's trumpet, bois de rose, orris, and wild lettuce. THE WITCH'S GARDEN `What ails you, dear wife?' `Oh,' she answered, `if I don't get some rampion to eat out of the garden behind the house, I know I shall die.' The man, who loved her dearly, thought to himself, `Come! rather than let your wife die you shall fetch her some rampion, no matter the cost.' So at dusk he climbed over the wall into the witch's garden, and, hastily gathering a handful of rampion leaves, he returned with them to his wife. She made them into a salad, which tasted so good that her longing for the forbidden food was greater than ever. If she were to know any peace of mind, there was nothing for it but that her husband should climb over the garden wall again, and fetch her some more. So at dusk over he got, but when he reached the other side he drew back in terror, for there, standing before him, was the old witch. Morning glory vines twisting around a patch of rampion, carrot, and parsley, with monkshood, hemlock, elfwort, sage, wormwood, and mandrake. THORNS `Ah, ah! you thought to find your lady love, but the pretty bird has flown and its song is dumb; the cat caught it, and will scratch out your eyes too. Rapunzel is lost to you for ever--you will never see her more.' The Prince was beside himself with grief, and in his despair he jumped right down from the tower, and, though he escaped with his life, the thorns among which he fell pierced his eyes out. Then he wandered, blind and miserable, through the wood, eating nothing but roots and berries, and weeping and lamenting the loss of his lovely bride. Thorn-spiked vines, blood, and tears. ++ MARCHEN: RUMPELSTILZCHEN RUMPELSTILZCHEN I have not been able to find a single new name; but as I came over a high mountain by a wood, where the fox and the hare bid each other good-night, I saw a little house, and before the house was burning a little fire, and round the fire danced a very funny little man, who hopped upon one leg, and cried out: - "To-day I brew, to-morrow I bake, Next day the queen's child I shall take; How glad I am that nobody knows; My name is Rumpelstilzchen!" Firewood and ash with an oddly otherworldly blend of patchouli, cardamom, nutmeg, black pepper, tonka, vetiver, and myrrh. THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER There was once a miller who was very poor, but he had a beautiful daughter. Now, it happened that he came to speak to the king, and, to give himself importance, he said to him, "I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold." The king said to the miller, "That is a talent that pleases me well; if she be as skilful as you say, bring her to-morrow to the palace, and I will put her to the proof." When the maiden was brought to him, he led her to a room full of straw, gave her a wheel and spindle, and said, "Now set to work, and if by the morrow this straw be not spun into gold, you shall die." He locked the door, and left the maiden alone. Spun gold, tear-soaked straw, and rose-infused amber. ++ MARCHEN: THE SPARROW WITH THE SLIT TONGUE THE LITTLE SPARROW One day the old man was sitting in front of his cottage, as he was very fond of doing, when he saw flying towards him a little sparrow, followed by a big black raven. The poor little thing was very much frightened and cried out as it flew, and the great bird came behind it terribly fast, flapping its wings and craning its beak, for it was hungry and wanted some dinner. But as they drew near the old man, he jumped up, and beat back the raven, which mounted, with hoarse screams of disappointment, into the sky, and the little bird, freed from its enemy, nestled into the old man's hand, and he carried it into the house. He stroked its feathers, and told it not to be afraid, for it was quite safe; but as he still felt its heart beating, he put it into a cage, where it soon plucked up courage to twitter and hop about. The old man was fond of all creatures, and every morning he used to open the cage door, and the sparrow flew happily about until it caught sight of a cat or a rat or some other fierce beast, when it would instantly return to the cage, knowing that there no harm could come to it. Dusty seeds, sedge, brown amber, and sandalwood. SERPENTS WITH GLITTERING EYES AND FORKY TONGUES It was a long way to her own house, and the chest seemed to grow heavier at every step. Sometimes she felt as if it would be impossible for her to get on at all, but her greed gave her strength, and at last she arrived at her own door. She sank down on the threshold, overcome with weariness, but in a moment was on her feet again, fumbling with the lock of the chest. But by this time night had come, and there was no light in the house, and the woman was in too much hurry to get to her treasures, to go and look for one. At length, however, the lock gave way, and the lid flew open, when, O horror! instead of gold and jewels, she saw before her serpents with glittering eyes and forky tongues. And they twined themselves about her and darted poison into her veins, and she died, and no man regretted her. Serpentine green herbs, glistening red currant, sparkling yellow lemon rind, green musk, lime, and snakeskin. To access the full text of each tale, please click on the name of the story on the Marchen page! The Yule update is live, as is our winter subseries, Wind in the Willows! ++ LIMITED EDITION: YULE 2008 BUTTER RUM COOKIE A boozy addition to the devil's bake sale! Rum-soaked butter cookies, crusted with sugar, soaked in almond and garnished with orange rind. FRAU HOLLE Frau Holle, or Holda, is the personification of the changes wrought when winter seizes the land: she rides the chill winds in her chariot, shaking out her featherbeds in order to precipitate snowfall. The rolling fog is the smoke from her hearth fire, and thunder claps when she reels her flax. Holda is a goddess of matrons, who governs spinning, domestic chores, witchcraft and witches, and the Wild Hunt. She presides over the transition of souls, both to and from this world. Though she is childless, she watches over children, and the spirits of newborns spring forth from her sacred pool. Her festival falls during midwinter, when the dead roam free. She holds court in Hörselberg, from which the Wild Hunt is issued, and all the beasts in the land heed her call. Snow-covered pines, witches herbs, bestial musk, flax, and ethereal flowers that represent both birth and death. GELT Sevivon, sov, sov, sov Chanukah, hu chag tov Chanukah, hu chag tov Sevivon, sov, sov, sov! Chag simcha hu la-am Nes gadol haya sham Nes gadol haya sham Chag simcha hu la-am. A bounty of chocolate coins! Dry cocoa and golden amber! HANEROT HALALU Hanerot halalu anachnu madlikin Al hanissim ve'al haniflaot Al hatshu-ot ve'al hamilchamot She-asita la'avoteynu Bayamim hahem, bazman hazeh Al yedey kohanecha hakdoshim. Vechol shmonat yemey Chanukah Hanerot halalu kodesh hem, Ve-ein lanu reshut lehishtamesh bahem Ela lirotam bilvad Kedai lehodot leshimcha Al nissecha veal nifleotecha ve-al yeshuotecha. We light these lights For the miracles and the wonders, For the redemption and the battles That you made for our forefathers In those days at this season, Through your holy priests. During all eight days of Chanukah These lights are sacred And we are not permitted to make Ordinary use of them, But only to look at them; In order to express thanks And praise to your great Name For your miracles, your wonders And your salvations. Olive oil, beeswax, and smoke. THE HEAD OF HOLOFERNES And when it was grown late, his servants made haste to their lodgings, and Vagao shut the chamber doors, and went his way. And they were all overcharged with wine. And Judith was alone in the chamber. But Holofernes lay on his bed, fast asleep, being exceedingly drunk. And Judith spoke to her maid to stand without before the chamber, and to watch: And Judith stood before the bed praying with tears, and the motion of her lips in silence, Saying: Strengthen me, O Lord God of Israel, and in this hour look on the works of my hands, that as thou hast promised, thou mayst raise up Jerusalem thy city: and that I may bring to pass that which I have purposed, having a belief that it might be done by thee. And when she had said this, she went to the pillar that was at his bed's head, and loosed his sword that hung tied upon it. And when she had drawn it out, she took him by the hair of his head, and said: Strengthen me, O Lord God, at this hour. And she struck twice upon his neck, and out off his head, and took off his canopy from the pillars, and rolled away his headless body. And after a while she went out, and delivered the head of Holofernes to her maid, and bade her put it into her wallet. And they two went out according to their custom, as it were to prayer, and they passed the camp, and having compassed the valley, they came to the gate of the city. And Judith from afar off cried to the watchmen upon the walls: Open the gates for God is with us, who hath shewn his power in Israel. And it came to pass, when the men had heard her voice, that they called the ancients of the city. And all ran to meet her from the least to the greatest: for they now had no hopes that she would come. And lighting up lights they all gathered round about her: and she went up to a higher place, and commanded silence to be made. And when all had held their peace, Judith said: Praise ye the Lord our God, who hath not forsaken them that hope in him. And by me his handmaid he hath fulfilled his mercy, which he promised to the house of Israel: and he hath killed the enemy of his people by my hand this night. Then she brought forth the head of Holofernes out of the wallet, and shewed it them, saying: Behold the head of Holofernes the general of the army of the Assyrians, and behold his canopy, wherein he lay in his drunkenness, where the Lord our God slew him by the hand of a woman. Dried blood, boiled wine, leather, galbanum, onycha, tonka bean, and pomegranate. JACOB'S LADDER 2008 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. LARENTALIA The festival of Roman goddess of death, Larenta, who was also known as Dea Tacita, the Silent Goddess. Spells to silence and bind slanderous enemies were cast on her holy days, as were spells of closure and suppression. During this time, offerings to the dead are left on thresholds, where spirits are said to dwell. A Roman funeral garden: cypress, thyme, oleander, crocus, gladiola, amaranth, and myrtle shrouded by herbs and flowers sacred to the Silent One. LE PÈRE FOUETTARD Once upon a time, there lived a stone-hearted, evil butcher and his grasping, covetous wife. Their shop was located near a parochial boarding school in a small village in eastern France. One day, three little boys passed the butcher's shop. Their clothes were neat and starched, and the wicked couple fancied that they could see gold stitching on the little boys' shirtcuffs. The butcher's eyes gleamed with avarice, and he hatched an evil plan to rob the children. His wife enticed the little boys into the shop and fed them poisoned sweets. Her husband then slit their throats, chopped their little bodies into pieces, and put the pieces into barrels. Good Saint Nicholas discovered the monstrous crime, and, through God's grace, resurrected the little boys. He confronted the vile butcher and forced him to atone for his crime. The butcher became Le Père Fouettard, Saint Nicholas' partner on his Christmas travels. Dressed in a soot-covered black suit that mirrors Father Christmas' suit of red and white, he travels with Saint Nick and dispenses coal and floggings to naughty children. Whip leather, coal dust, gaufrette, and black licorice. LICK IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT Every holiday season should be full of lewd suggestions and filthy double entendres, right? Lick it in earnest! Lick it with vigor! 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. For real. Don't lick it.) LINES WRITTEN AMONG THE EUGANEAN HILLS Senseless is the breast and cold Which relenting love would fold; Bloodless are the veins and chill Which the pulse of pain did fill; Every little living nerve That from bitter words did swerve Round the tortur'd lips and brow, Are like sapless leaflets now Frozen upon December's bough. Skin musk, white sandalwood, balsam fir, frozen black berries, cedar, winter rose, and white amber. THE MAGI Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him. When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. And when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born. And they said unto him, In Bethlehem of Judaea: for thus it is written by the prophet, And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel. Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, inquired of them diligently what time the star appeared. And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also. When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh. And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way. And when they were departed, behold, the angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him. When he arose, he took the young child and his mother by night, and departed into Egypt: And was there until the death of Herod: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Out of Egypt have I called my son. Then Herod, when he saw that he was mocked of the wise men, was exceeding wroth, and sent forth, and slew all the children that were in Bethlehem, and in all the coasts thereof, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had diligently inquired of the wise men. Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy the prophet, saying, In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not. But when Herod was dead, behold, an angel of the Lord appeareth in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, Saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and go into the land of Israel: for they are dead which sought the young child's life. And he arose, and took the young child and his mother, and came into the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus did reign in Judaea in the room of his father Herod, he was afraid to go thither: notwithstanding, being warned of God in a dream, he turned aside into the parts of Galilee: And he came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophets, He shall be called a Nazarene. An offering of frankincense, gold, and myrrh, with coriander, cumin, ambergris, white wine grape, and vanilla bean. Now as at all times I can see in the mind's eye, In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones, And all their helms of silver hovering side by side, And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more, Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied, The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor. MIDNIGHT MASS 2008 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. NUCLEAR WINTER 2008 Annihilation. The ice, desolation and barrenness of nuclear devastation shot through by a beam of radioactive mints. ON DARKNESS You darkness, that I come from, I love you more than all the fires that fence in the world, for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone, and then no one outside learns of you. But the darkness pulls in everything; shapes and fires, animals and myself, how easily it gathers them! -- powers and people -- and it is possible a great energy is moving near me. I have faith in nights. An embrace: black poppy, lavender, thick black incense, black amber, rose geranium, Brazilian rosewood, and benzoin. PERCHTA Perchta, the Shining One, is the Lady of the Beasts, an incarnation of the goddess Holda. She, too, leads the Wild Hunt, and is the protectress of wild animals, and appears to mortals as either a white-clad, white-skinned, white-haired beauty, or as a brutish, bestial hag. She is called Berhte Mit Dem Fuoze; one of her feet is shaped like a beast's, which gives away her superhuman nature no matter how she is disguised. She is also called Perchta the Belly-Slitter, for, at Yuletide, she castigates the wicked, slovenly, and idle, and rewards those that are generous, good-natured, and kind. The Belly-Slitter enforced community taboos, punishing those that spun during holy days and those who failed to partake in sacred feasts, thus jeopardizing the next year's harvest. Her punishments can be a bit over-the-top, though: they include disemboweling the transgressor and filling the empty cavity with refuse. Her scent is a blend of wild musk, snow, and alpine flora: Nigritella lithopolitanica, aconite, crocus, touch-me-not, edelweiss, Iris variegate, and violet. ROSE RED 2008 The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut. SNOW BUNNY 2008 Not so spooky, right? Here's to finally being able to hit the slopes again! Soft white powder snow with a touch of youthful girlie perfume. SNOW WHITE 2008 A chilly, bright perfume: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers. SUGAR COOKIE 2008 Affectionately nicknamed 'The Devil's Bake Sale'. THERE'S A CERTAIN SLANT OF LIGHT There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons - That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes - Heavenly Hurt, it gives us - We can find no scar, But internal difference, Where the Meanings, are - None may teach it - Any - 'Tis the Seal Despair - An imperial affliction Sent us of the Air - When it comes, the Landscape listens - Shadows - hold their breath - When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death - Thin, tinny ozone with frankincense, white sandalwood, white amber, hyssop, bitter violet leaf, and shadowy wisps of smoke. VISITING THE TEMPLE OF AUSPICIOUS FORTUNE ALONE ON THE WINTER SOLSTICE Deep at the bottom of the well no warmth has yet returned, The rain which sighs and feels so cold has dampened withered roots. What sort of man at such a time would come to visit the teacher? As this is not a time for flowers, I find I've come alone. Temple incense, rain, and dust. WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT 2008 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. ++ LIMITED EDITION: THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS ALL THEY HAD SEEN, AND ALL THEY HAD LOST As they stared blankly in dumb misery deepening as they slowly realised all they had seen and all they had lost, a capricious little breeze, dancing up from the surface of the water, tossed the aspens, shook the dewy roses and blew lightly and caressingly in their faces; and with its soft touch came instant oblivion. For this is the last best gift that the kindly demi-god is careful to bestow on those to whom he has revealed himself in their helping: the gift of forgetfulness. Lest the awful remembrance should remain and grow, and overshadow mirth and pleasure, and the great haunting memory should spoil all the after-lives of little animals helped out of difficulties, in order that they should be happy and lighthearted as before. Mist and dewy roses, aspen leaves, and translucent yellow blossoms. BADGER "How on earth, Badger." he said at last, "did you ever find time and strength to do all this? It's astonishing!" "It would be astonishing indeed," said the Badger simply, "if I had done it. But as a matter of fact I did none of it only cleaned out the passages and chambers, as far as I had need of them. There's lots more of it, all round about. I see you don't understand, and I must explain it to you. Well, very long ago, on the spot where the Wild Wood waves now, before ever it had planted itself and grown up to what it now is, there was a city a city of people, you know. Here, where we are standing, they lived, and walked, and talked, and slept, and carried on their business. Here they stabled their horses and feasted, from here they rode out to fight or drove out to trade. They were a powerful people, and rich, and great builders. They built to last, for they thought their city would last for ever." "But what has become of them all?'" asked the Mole. "Who can tell?" said the Badger. "People come they stay for a while, they flourish, they build and they go. It is their way. But we remain. There were badgers here, I've been told, long before that same city ever came to be. And now there are badgers here again. We are an enduring lot, and we may move out for a time, but we wait, and are patient, and back we come. And so it will ever be." Warm earth, deep-reaching roots, dark myrrh, galangal, and Atlas cedar. THE GAOLER'S DAUGHTER Now the gaoler had a daughter, a pleasant wench and good-hearted, who assisted her father in the lighter duties of his post. She was particularly fond of animals, and, besides her canary, whose cage hung on a nail in the massive wall of the keep by day, to the great annoyance of prisoners who relished an after-dinner nap, and was shrouded in an antimacassar on the parlour table at night, she kept several piebald mice and a restless revolving squirrel. This kind-hearted girl, pitying the misery of Toad, said to her father one day, "Father! I can't bear to see that poor beast so unhappy, and getting so thin! You let me have the managing of him. You know how fond of animals I am. I'll make him eat from my hand, and sit up, and do all sorts of things." Gardenia, neroli, and white peach with vanilla amber, cream, and honey. MOLE The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. Antiqued sandalwood, patchouli, and soft mosses. NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR Late in the evening, tired and happy and miles from home, they drew up on a remote common far from habitations, turned the horse loose to graze, and ate their simple supper sitting on the grass by the side of the cart. Toad talked big about all he was going to do in the days to come, while stars grew fuller and larger all around them, and a yellow moon, appearing suddenly and silently from nowhere in particular, came to keep them company and listen to their talk. The scent of a moonlit night on the road, orchards in the distance, and swirling dust. THE PIPER AT THE GATES OF DAWN Perhaps he would never have dared to raise his eyes, but that, though the piping was now hushed, the call and the summons seemed still dominant and imperious. He might not refuse, were Death himself waiting to strike him instantly, once he had looked with mortal eye on things rightly kept hidden. Trembling he obeyed, and raised his humble head; and then, in that utter clearness of the imminent dawn, while Nature, flushed with fullness of incredible colour, seemed to hold her breath for the event, he looked in the very eyes of the Friend and Helper; saw the backward sweep of the curved horns, gleaming in the growing daylight; saw the stern, hooked nose between the kindly eyes that were looking down on them humourously, while the bearded mouth broke into a half-smile at the corners; saw the rippling muscles on the arm that lay across the broad chest, the long supple hand still holding the pan-pipes only just fallen away from the parted lips; saw the splendid curves of the shaggy limbs disposed in majestic ease on the sward; saw, last of all, nestling between his very hooves, sleeping soundly in entire peace and contentment, the little, round, podgy, childish form of the baby otter. All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered. Sublime peace, ecstatic joy, and thunderstruck awe: terebinth pine, patchouli, brown musk, linden blossom, honey, mallow, blood orange, heliotrope, and golden amber. RAT During luncheon -- which was excellent, of course, as everything at Toad Hall always was -- the Toad simply let himself go. Disregarding the Rat, he proceeded to play upon the inexperienced Mole as on a harp. Naturally a voluble animal, and always mastered by his imagination, he painted the prospects of the trip and the joys of the open life and the roadside in such glowing colours that the Mole could hardly sit in his chair for excitement. Somehow, it soon seemed taken for granted by all three of them that the trip was a settled thing; and the Rat, though still unconvinced in his mind, allowed his good-nature to override his personal objections. He could not bear to disappoint his two friends, who were already deep in schemes and anticipations, planning out each day's separate occupation for several weeks ahead. Orangewood, pine, wood moss, and vetiver. THE SEA RAT "Right," replied the stranger. "I 'm a seafaring rat, I am, and the port I originally hail from is Constantinople, though I 'm a sort of a foreigner there too, in a manner of speaking. You will have heard of Constantinople, friend? A fair city and an ancient and glorious one. And you may have heard too, of Sigurd, King of Norway, and how he sailed thither with sixty ships, and how he and his men rode up through streets all canopied in their honour with purple and gold; and how the Emperor and Empress came down and banqueted with him on board his ship. When Sigurd returned home, many of his Northmen remained behind and entered the Emperor's body-guard, and my ancestor, a Norwegian born, stayed behind too, with the ships that Sigurd gave the Emperor. Seafarers we have ever been, and no wonder; as for me, the city of my birth is no more my home than any pleasant port between there and the London River. I know them all, and they know me. Set me down on any of their quays or foreshores, and I am home again." "I suppose you go great voyages," said the Water Rat with growing interest. "Months and months out of sight of land, and provisions running short, and allowanced as to water, and your mind communing with the mighty ocean, and all that sort of thing?" "By no means," said the Sea Rat frankly. "Such a life as you describe would not suit me at all. I 'm in the coasting trade, and rarely out of sight of land. It's the jolly times on shore that appeal to me, as much as any seafaring. O, those southern seaports! The smell of them, the riding-lights at night, the glamour!" Seaweed, ambergris, and sea buckthorn berry with exotic herbs, incense smoke, ship wood, and Burmese musk. TOAD "…It's never the wrong time to call on Toad. Early or late, he's always the same fellow. Always good-tempered, always glad to see you, always sorry when you go!" "He must be a very nice animal," observed the Mole, as he got into the boat and took the sculls, while the Rat settled himself comfortably in the stern. "He is indeed the best of animals," replied Rat. "So simple, so good-natured, and so affectionate. Perhaps he's not very clever -- we can't all be geniuses; and it may be that he is both boastful and conceited. But he has got some great qualities, has Toady." Dapper cologne, scorched waistcoat, a bit of pipe tobacco, and motor oil. TOAD HALL will be available at the Black Phoenix booth at Bat's Day Black Market along with a Toady commemorative tee! Please stop by if you can! In other news… Please welcome our newest authorized retailers: Whole Foods Market 3100 Cahaba Village Plaza Birmingham, AL 35243 (205)912-8400 Whole Foods Market 3540 Wade Ave Raleigh NC 27607 (919)828-1589 and for for UK customers: Posh Brats Ltd 13 Swan Bank Congleton, Cheshire CW12 1AN UK 01260 290555 They have joined our happy family of retail outlets -- Nail Polish Etc. 132 E. Main St Palmyra, PA 17078 (717)832-3388 (Home of East Coast Will Call!) Whole Foods Market aka Harry's Farmer's Market 1180 Upper Hembree Rd. Roswell, GA (770)664-6300 Whole Foods 5945 State Bridge Road Duluth, GA 30097 (678)514-2400 Whole Foods Market 81 S. Elliott Rd Chapel Hill, NC 27514 (919)968-1983 Healthy Living Market 222 Dorset Street South Burlington, VT 05403 (802)863-2569 Le Pink&Co 3820 W. Sunset Blvd Los Angeles, CA 90026 (323)661-7465 Stop by and show them some love! More this n'that -- Coming soon to BPAL - the Graveyard Book series! It is a wonderful, sweet, spooky story, and we are thrilled to have the opportunity to work with Neil again! We will, hopefully, be ready to go when the UK release date happens! The FAQ and Media sections on the site need some serious updating. Someday, someday. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand…. The Inquisition will be rearing its head at Black Phoenix Trading Post in about two weeks or so. Also comin' to the post in the next few months… bath powders, new garments, new lockets, pendants, and a whole heap of shiny, fun stuff! From the 15 September 2008 update: Your humble narrator is falling asleep sitting up. Lilith is 13 days old, and it feels like we haven't slept in 13 years! Meanwhile, back at the ranch... Blood Moon 2008 is live! In October, the crop harvest has past, and all hands turn to the Hunt: the third and final harvest before winter. Blood Moon shines over huntsmen as they ride over reaped grain in pursuit of their prey. In Christian mythology, Blood Moon may have a darker significance: "And I looked when He broke the sixth seal, and there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth made of hair, and the whole moon became like blood; and the stars of the sky fell to the earth, as a fig tree casts its unripe figs when shaken by a great wind." -- Revelation 6:12-13 The feral scent of the heat of the chase, deep woods, undulating musks, brushed by forest flora, swirled in the incense of the anointed cherub that covereth, and touched by blood-dimmed lunar oils.  The MVJBA has also posted an update! Sorry to send you guys on an Easter Egg hunt for the MVJBA details, but I can't type anymore -- my face is about to smack down on the keyboard. Hard. From the 14 August 2008: Its pretty much T minus zero til Baby Barrial pops, and as such, your faithful narrator is a little brain fried! Add a little SoCal August humidity to the mix, and you've got yourself a preggo zombie. So, rather than babble nonsensically (as I am starting to do), let's get straight to the update schtuff! - Harvest Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! HARVEST MOON 2008 Harvest Moon is celebrated in almost every culture, and the bounty of the season is marked in a myriad of ways. Harvest Moon touches the Equinox, the festival of Janus, the culmination of Homowo, the "crying of the neck" in Cornwall, and the Women's Festival of the Moon. This is a day that celebrates abundance and beauty, fertility and progress, and the light of this full moon blesses new undertakings and reunites lost loves. The Harvest Moon, by definition, is the Full Moon that falls closest to the Autumnal Equinox, and thus, it shares some of that Sabbat's characteristics. This Full Moon was thus named because it rises within half an hour of the sun's setting, in the Northern Hemisphere, and at this time farmers are able to work longer into the night by the light of this Moon. As the year draws to a close, the Full Moon rises an average of fifty minutes later each night, with the exception of a few nights surrounding the Harvest Moon, which only rises 10-30 minutes later. This moon is also, to the human eye, the fullest and largest of the year's Moons, hanging gloriously huge, yellow and low in the night sky, and many lunar illusions play tricks our eyes at this time. The Harvest ushers in many celebrations, including the Equinox and the Festival of Janus, God of Doors. Janus is the Roman Lord of Gateways, beginnings and endings, and transitions. Thus, the Harvest Moon is a time for blessing new ventures, the onset of new and progressive phases in one's life, and rites of passage into adulthood. This time of year also marks one of the Festivals of Dionysus, Lord of Ecstasy and the Vine. This Harvest lunacy combines the autumnal scents of balsam fir, cedar, juniper berry, clove, saffron, damson plum, sage, black cherry, and fennel with the crushed wine grapes of Dionysus and Janus' lingum aloes.  Also in our LE section this month… HELLHOUND ON MY TRAIL … blues falling down like hail And the day keeps on remindin' me, there's a hellhound on my trail … August 16th marks the day the Devil came to call on the King of the Delta Blues. Bay rum, bourbon vanilla, galangal, hyssop, High John the Conqueror root, tobacco, life everlasting, and brimstone. Aaaaaand… its that time of year again! Halloween at Black Phoenix! - ++ HALLOWEENIE 2008 A BLADE OF GRASS Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, "You make such a noise falling! You scatter all my winter dreams." Said the leaf indignant, "Low-born and low-dwelling! Songless, peevish thing! You live not in the upper air and you cannot tell the sound of singing." Then the autumn leaf lay down upon the earth and slept. And when spring came she waked again -- and she was a blade of grass. And when it was autumn and her winter sleep was upon her, and above her through all the air the leaves were falling, she muttered to herself, "O these autumn leaves! They make such a noise! They scatter all my winter dreams." Autumn leaves scattered among blades of grass. AUTUMN COOLNESS Heat lingers As days are still long; Early mornings are cool While autumn is still young. Dew on the lotus Scatters pure perfume; Wind on the bamboos Gives off a gentle tinkling. I am idle and lonely, Lying down all day, Sick and decayed; No one asks for me; Thin dusk before my gates, Cassia blossoms inch deep. The scent of wisteria, Cymbidium, lotus blossom, and cassia buds drifting on a breeze through gently swaying bamboo reeds. JOHN BARLEYCORN There was three men come out o' the west their fortunes for to try, And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn must die, They plowed, they sowed, they harrowed him in, throwed clods upon his head, And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn was dead. Barley, beer, blood, and whiskey. CHANT D'AUTOMNE I Bientôt nous plongerons dans les froides ténèbres; Adieu, vive clarté de nos étés trop courts! J'entends déjà tomber avec des chocs funèbres Le bois retentissant sur le pavé des cours. Tout l'hiver va rentrer dans mon être: colère, Haine, frissons, horreur, labeur dur et forcé, Et, comme le soleil dans son enfer polaire, Mon coeur ne sera plus qu'un bloc rouge et glacé. J'écoute en frémissant chaque bûche qui tombe L'échafaud qu'on bâtit n'a pas d'écho plus sourd. Mon esprit est pareil à la tour qui succombe Sous les coups du bélier infatigable et lourd. Il me semble, bercé par ce choc monotone, Qu'on cloue en grande hâte un cercueil quelque part. Pour qui? — C'était hier l'été; voici l'automne! Ce bruit mystérieux sonne comme un départ. II J'aime de vos longs yeux la lumière verdâtre, Douce beauté, mais tout aujourd'hui m'est amer, Et rien, ni votre amour, ni le boudoir, ni l'âtre, Ne me vaut le soleil rayonnant sur la mer. Et pourtant aimez-moi, tendre coeur! soyez mère, Même pour un ingrat, même pour un méchant; Amante ou soeur, soyez la douceur éphémère D'un glorieux automne ou d'un soleil couchant. Courte tâche! La tombe attend; elle est avide! Ah! laissez-moi, mon front posé sur vos genoux, Goûter, en regrettant l'été blanc et torride, De l'arrière-saison le rayon jaune et doux! - - - I Soon we will sink in the frigid darkness Good-bye, brightness of our too short summers! I already hear the fall in distress Of the wood falling in the paved courtyard. Winter will invade my being: anger, Hatred, chills, horror, hard and forced labor, And, like the sun in its iced inferno, My heart is but a red and frozen floe. I hear with shudders each weak limb that falls. The scaffold will have no louder echo. My spirit is like a tower that yields Under the tireless and heavy ram blow. It seems, lulled by this monotonous sound, Somewhere a coffin is hastily nailed, For whom? Summer yesterday, autumn now! This mysterious noise sounds like a farewell. II I love the greenish light of your long eyes, Sweet beauty, but all is bitter today. Nothing, not love, the boudoir or the hearth Is dearer than the sunshine on the sea. Still love me, tender heart! Be a mother Even to the ingrate, to the wicked, Lover, sister, ephemeral sweetness Of fall's glory or of the setting sun. Short-lived task! The tomb awaits, merciless. Ah! Let me, my head resting on your knees, Savor, regretting the white hot summer, The autumn's last rays yellow and tender. The scent of the year's fall and the setting sun, ominous and foreboding: dried leaves, charred wood, blood musk, amber, khus, and Nicotiana tabacum. DAY OF THE SKULLS In Bolivia, many people hold to the tradition of keeping the skulls of their ancestors with them in their homes, caring for their remains. It is believed that each person has seven souls, and one of those souls stays with the skull after death, enabling a spirit to grant protection and prophetic dreams to their descendants, and to bless their families with good health and prosperity. The Bolivian Fiesta de las Ñatitas, or Dia de los Ñatitas, is a day of honor for these ancestors. Their skulls are dressed with fragrant blossoms, and offerings of cocoa leaves, alcohol, and cigarettes are made. White sandalwood, beeswax, and frankincense crowned by hydrangea, rose, and kantuta blossoms, dressed with tobacco, cocoa leaves and flowers from the sacred Cactus of the Four Winds. GRAVEYARD DIRT 2008 A tribute to a somewhat nefarious and truly notorious ingredient in New Orleans spellcrafting. It is employed in hoodoo rootwork for various reasons, primarily in spells of protection, "tricking" your enemies, binding, and even love magick. The graves are chosen based on the type of working, and are determined by the type of spirit that lies there and the manner of their demise. Payment is always required in the form of offerings to the deceased. This is the scent of pure graveyard dust, spattered with grave loam and dusted lightly with tombstone moss. HUESOS DE SANTO On All Saints Day, Spanish families visit their loved ones in the cemeteries, keeping vigil throughout the evening, saying prayers for the dead. Family burial plots are cleaned and tended, and graves are adorned with gladiolas, chrysanthemums, and roses. Bone-shaped pastries called Saint's Bones, or the Bones of the Holy, are baked and shared in honor of the souls in Purgatory, and to remind us of those who no longer share our repast, but with whom we one day hope to be reunited with again. Orange-glazed cake, dotted with anise seed, and filled with custard, set beside a bouquet of celebratory funeral flowers. MEDITATION IN AUTUMN Withered vines, gnarled trees, twilight crows, river flowing beneath the little bridge, past someone's home. The wind blows from the west where the sun sets, it blows across the ancient road, across the bony horse across the despairing man who stands at heaven's edge. A desolate scent, dusty, bleak, and withered: old wood, burnt brown sandalwood, and twisted vines. MICTECACIHUATL Known as the Mistress of Bones and the Lady of the Dead, she is the Queen of Mictlan, the Aztec Underworld, who still presides over today's Day of the Dead rituals. Sometimes known now as La Huesuda, she brings peace and joy to the spirits of the deceased, and blesses the living who do honor to those who have passed before them. Copal, precious woods, South American spices, agave nectar, cigar tobacco, and roses. SAMHAIN 2008 Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein. STICKY PILLOWCASE Terminal sugar rush. A little goblin's candy bag, upended. Smushed candy corn, rock candy dust, marshmallow gunk, strawberry goo, spun blue sugar, globs of salt water taffy, and lint. SUGAR SKULL 2008 Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits. TO AUTUMN Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cyder-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours. Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, - While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breat whistles from a garden-croft; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. Mist and mellow fruitfulness: mist-swirled, moss-covered bark and dry red leaves, apple pulp and knotty galangal, with poppy juice and nutmeat. ++ PUMPKIN PATCH The 'Patch is back, with five new pumpkin blends to choose from. Pick individual pumpkins from the field, or snatch up the whole bushel! PUMPKIN I Pumpkin with mango, persimmon, coconut, and myrrh. PUMPKIN II Pumpkin with black musk, leather accord, tonka, teak, orange wood, and opoponax. PUMPKIN III Pumpkin with pink grapefruit, lemon verbena, yuzu, lime, parsley, and mint. PUMPKIN IV Pumpkin with white sage, cherry tobacco, honey, smoky vanilla, cedar, and pine. PUMPKIN V Pumpkin with cranberry, strawberry, red musk, red rose, rosehip, frankincense, fig, jasmine, and carnation. PUMPKIN PLUNDER If you purchase Pumpkin Plunder, you will receive an imp of Needle in a Haystack: a scent created to compliment and complete the collection. Needle in a Haystack Hay absolute, sun-baked pumpkin rind, twisting vines, and the tiniest sparkle of gleaming metal. Label artwork for the Halloweenies, Pumpkin Patch, and Hellhound by our beloved Jennifer Williamson! But wait! - there's more! This autumn, we are paying a visit to the quiet eastern shore of the Hudson River with a Limited Edition subseries inspired by the Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving:  ++ SLEEPY HOLLOW BROM BONES Among these the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roystering blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation, Brom Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rang with his feats of strength and hardihood. He was broad-shouldered and double-jointed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff, but not unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance. From his Herculean frame and great powers of limb, he had received the nickname of BROM BONES, by which he was universally known. He was famed for great knowledge and skill in horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar. He was foremost at all races and cock-fights; and, with the ascendancy which bodily strength acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in all disputes, setting his hat on one side, and giving his decisions with an air and tone admitting of no gainsay or appeal. He was always ready for either a fight or a frolic; but had more mischief than ill-will in his composition; and, with all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong dash of waggish good humor at bottom. He had three or four boon companions, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment for miles round. In cold weather he was distinguished by a fur cap, surmounted with a flaunting fox's tail; and when the folks at a country gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about among a squad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall. Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at midnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks; and the old dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till the hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, "Ay, there goes Brom Bones and his gang!" The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture of awe, admiration, and good will; and when any madcap prank, or rustic brawl, occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted Brom Bones was at the bottom of it. The butchest, manliest of musks covered in well-worn leather. THE CHURCHYARD The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a favorite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a knoll, surrounded by locust-trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent whitewashed walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity beaming through the shades of retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheet of water, bordered by high trees, between which, peeps may be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon its grass-grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace. On one side of the church extends a wide woody dell, along which raves a large brook among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, not far from the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge; the road that led to it, and the bridge itself, were thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even in the daytime; but occasioned a fearful darkness at night. This was one of the favorite haunts of the headless horseman; and the place where he was most frequently encountered. Overgrown dark green bullrush, midnight roses, dwarf St. John's Wort, frankincense, blackberry leaf, and moss-covered, half-buried tree bark. ICHABOD CRANE The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock, perched upon his spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield. . . . From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of travelling gazette, carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house; so that his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was, moreover, esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather's history of New England Witchcraft, in which, by the way, he most firmly and potently believed. He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple credulity. His appetite for the marvellous, and his powers of digesting it, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his residence in this spellbound region. No tale was too gross or monstrous for his capacious swallow. It was often his delight, after his school was dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed of clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his school-house, and there con over old Mather's direful tales, until the gathering dusk of the evening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination: the moan of the whip-poor-will from the hill-side; the boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screech-owl, or the sudden rustling in the thicket of birds frightened from their roost. The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a witch's token. His only resource on such occasions, either to drown thought, or drive away evil spirits, was to sing psalm tunes;-and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by their doors of an evening, were often filled with awe, at hearing his nasal melody, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," floating from the distant hill, or along the dusky road. Dusty black wool, tea with cream, black pepper, muguet, and beeswax candle drippings. FEARFUL PLEASURE Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was, to pass long winter evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire, with a row of apples roasting and spluttering along the hearth, and listen to their marvellous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted fields, and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted houses, and particularly of the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as they sometimes called him. He would delight them equally by his anecdotes of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous sights and sounds in the air, which prevailed in the earlier times of Connecticut; and would frighten them woefully with speculations upon comets and shooting stars; and with the alarming fact that the world did absolutely turn round, and that they were half the time topsy-turvy! Dried orange peels floating in simmering cider, roasted apples, smoldering firewood, chimney smoke, sassafras beer, warm hawthorn wood, and oakmoss. THE GOBLIN RIDER In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveller. The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror. What was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late; and besides, what chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was, which could ride upon the wings of the wind? Summoning up, therefore, a show of courage, he demanded in stammering accents-"Who are you?" He received no reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitated voice. Still there was no answer. Once more he cudgelled the sides of the inflexible Gunpowder, and, shutting his eyes, broke forth with involuntary fervor into a psalm tune. Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, and, with a scramble and a bound, stood at once in the middle of the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained. He appeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a black horse of powerful frame. He made no offer of molestation or sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road, jogging along on the blind side of old Gunpowder, who had now got over his fright and waywardness. Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, and bethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the Galloping Hessian, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him behind. The stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind-the other did the same. His heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume his psalm tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and he could not utter a stave. There was something in the moody and dogged silence of this pertinacious companion, that was mysterious and appalling. It was soon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck, on perceiving that he was headless!-but his horror was still more increased, on observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of the saddle; his terror rose to desperation; he rained a shower of kicks and blows upon Gunpowder; hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his companion the slip-but the spectre started full jump with him. Away then they dashed, through thick and thin; stones flying, and sparks flashing at every bound. Ichabod's flimsy garments fluttered in the air, as he stretched his long lanky body away over his horse's head, in the eagerness of his flight. The scent of fear, and terrifying pursuit: wind-whipped, chilly night air, oppressive black pine, globs of dark opopponax, and bleak cedar, and distant, unreachable church incense. GUNPOWDER That he might make his appearance before his mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a horse from the farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman, of the name of Hans Van Ripper, and, thus gallantly mounted, issued forth, like a knight-errant in quest of adventures. But it is meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed. The animal he bestrode was a broken-down plough-horse, that had outlived almost every thing but his viciousness. He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe neck and a head like a hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and knotted with burrs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and spectral; but the other had the gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he must have had fire and mettle in his day, if we may judge from the name he bore of Gunpowder. He had, in fact, been a favorite steed of his master's, the choleric Van Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had infused, very probably, some of his own spirit into the animal; for, old and broken-down as he looked, there was more of the lurking devil in him than in any young filly in the country. Carrot peelings, hay, chaff, molasses, maple oats, red apples, stable wood, and musk. THE HESSIAN OF THE HOLLOW The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback without a head. It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war; and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk hurrying along in the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that the body of the trooper, having been buried in the church-yard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head; and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the church-yard before daybreak. Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; and the spectre is known, at all the country firesides, by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. Grave moss and bone-white sandalwood, with vetiver, gunpowder, artillery shrapnel, and blood. THE SCHOOL-HOUSE His school-house was a low building of one large room, rudely constructed of logs; the windows partly glazed, and partly patched with leaves of old copy-books. It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours, by a withe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against the window shutters; so that, though a thief might get in with perfect ease, he would find some embarrassment in getting out; an idea most probably borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houton, from the mystery of an eel-pot. The school-house stood in a rather lonely but pleasant situation just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close by, and a formidable birch tree growing at one end of it. From hence the low murmur of his pupils' voices, conning over their lessons, might be heard in a drowsy summer's day, like the hum of a bee-hive; interrupted now and then by the authoritative voice of the master, in the tone of menace or command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound of the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of knowledge. Dandelion, white clover, balsam fir logs, and birchwood switches. THE SHATTERED PUMPKIN The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master's gate. Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast-dinner-hour came, but no Ichabod. The boys assembled at the schoolhouse, and strolled idly about the banks of the brook; but no school-master. Hans Van Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor Ichabod, and his saddle. An inquiry was set on foot, and after diligent investigation they came upon his traces. In one part of the road leading to the church was found the saddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks of horses' hoofs deeply dented in the road, and evidently at furious speed, were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered pumpkin. Soil-covered crushed pumpkin, water-weeds, saddle-leather, and pine pitch. KATRINA VAN TASSEL … and though he had seen many spectres in his time, and been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, in his lonely perambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these evils; and he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of witches put together, and that was-a woman. Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, to receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge; ripe and melting and rosy cheeked as one of her father's peaches, and universally famed, not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations. She was withal a little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off her charms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold, which her great-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam, the tempting stomacher of the olden time; and withal a provokingly short petticoat, to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round. White rose and honeyed cream. WILEY'S SWAMP A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridge over this stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the wood, a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grapevines, threw a cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severest trial. It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate André was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him. This has ever since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the schoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark. Water-logged and rotting wood, fallen chestnuts, oak leaf, bog laurel, and Virginia creeper. THE WITCHING TIME OF NIGHT It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and crest-fallen, pursued his travel homewards, along the sides of the lofty hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed so cheerily in the afternoon. The hour was dismal as himself. Far below him, the Tappan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at anchor under the land. In the dead hush of midnight, he could even hear the barking of the watch dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea of his distance from this faithful companion of man. Now and then, too, the long-drawn crowing of a cock, accidentally awakened, would sound far, far off from some farmhouse away among the hills-but it was like a dreaming sound in his ear. No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally the melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a bull-frog, from a neighboring marsh, as if sleeping uncomfortably, and turning suddenly in his bed. Moonflower, night-blooming cereus, white hellebore, English ivy, monkshood, angel's trumpet, oleander, and eastern hemlock. Artwork for the Sleepy Hollow series created by the newest member of the Black Phoenix family, Jennifer Rodgers! Harvest Moon, Hellhound on My Trail, and the Black Moons are $17.50 each, and CT:4 is $15 per bottle. Harvest Moon, the Black Moons, Hellhound, and Chaos bottles will be available until August 18, 2008. The Sleepy Hollow, Pumpkin Patch, and Halloweenies are $17.50 each, and Pumpkin Plunder is available for $85. Sleepy Hollow, the Pumpkin Patch, and the Halloweenies will be available until November 15, 2008. Meanwhile, at Black Phoenix Trading Post… A new tee has been added to the General Catalogue's commemorative collection... Dia de los Muertos!  Please note: the artwork is deliberately distressed for an 'aged' feel. Artwork for both Harvest Moon and Dia de los Muertos by the phenomenal Jennifer Williamson! Also new at the 'Post - FOOT SCRUBS! These invigorating, softening foot scrubs were created with the finest environmentally-responsible and body-friendly ingredients. They are vegan, and are contain no harsh chemicals or unwholesome fillers. Our scrubs are paraben and formaldehyde free, and do not contain sodium lauryl or sodium laureth sulfate, and our labels are printed on an Earth-friendly corn biopolymer. Our foot scrubs exfoliate gently, and soften your skin beautifully. They leave your feet polished without feeling abused. As always, no animals were harmed during the creation of this product, and all products were tested on friends and family. These foot scrubs were created by Michelle Groff of Nail Polish, Etc, so you know your feet are in good hands! Scents by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab! DE RØDE SKO Do your feet feel like they've been cursed? Don't chop them off! Soothe your tired, aching toes with our warming, stimulating scrub! Red ginger, sweet orange, black pepper, clove, and cardamom. OLWEN You, too, can have flowers blossoming under your feet! Peppermint, vanilla, sandalwood, honey, and carnation. TALARIA A dollop of our invigorating, refreshing foot scrub will leave you dancing on air like you're wearing winged sandals! Peppermint, lemon, and neroli. For a limited time, Black Phoenix Trading Post is offering a series of spooky seasonal Atmosphere and Linen sprays… ALL HALLOW'S EVE 'Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world. Balsam fir needle, dry leaves, cedar, clove, and black patchouli. BONFIRE NIGHT Guy Fawkes, Guy; Stick him up on high! Hang him on a lamp post And there let him die! Guy, Guy, Guy! Poke Him in the eye! Put him on the fire, And there let him die! Burn his body from his head: Then you'll say Guy Fawkes is dead! Hip, Hip, Hooray! Beer, woodsmoke, tar, and treacle. GOOEY PILLOWCASE Lumps of pumpkin fudge, marshmallow glop, cookie crumbs, caramel smears, and bits of sticky fuzz. SAMHAIN Truly the scent of autumn itself -- damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein. SUGAR SKULL Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits. And one spray that is part of the Black Phoenix Sleepy Hollow series: MAJOR ANDRE'S TREE All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon, now came crowding upon his recollection. The night grew darker and darker; the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and driving clouds occasionally hid them from his sight. He had never felt so lonely and dismal. He was, moreover, approaching the very place where many of the scenes of the ghost stories had been laid. In the centre of the road stood an enormous tulip-tree, which towered like a giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind of landmark. Its limbs were gnarled, and fantastic, large enough to form trunks for ordinary trees, twisting down almost to the earth, and rising again into the air. It was connected with the tragical story of the unfortunate André, who had been taken prisoner hard by; and was universally known by the name of Major André's tree. The common people regarded it with a mixture of respect and superstition, partly out of sympathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the tales of strange sights and doleful lamentations told concerning it. As Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he began to whistle: he thought his whistle was answered-it was but a blast sweeping sharply through the dry branches. As he approached a little nearer, he thought he saw something white, hanging in the midst of the tree-he paused and ceased whistling; but on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place where the tree had been scathed by lightning, and the white wood laid bare. Suddenly he heard a groan-his teeth chattered and his knees smote against the saddle: it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon another, as they were swayed about by the breeze. He passed the tree in safety, but new perils lay before him. The gnarled boughs of a gargantuan, moss-caked, ancient tulip-tree, dangling dead leaves and dripping with browning vines. These sprays are $25 per 4oz bottle, and will be live until 15 November 2008. No goblin squirts are available for the seasonal sprays. And that, my friends, is it for now! From the 16 July 2008 update: What is the Lunacy this month, you ask? Why, its… STURGEON MOON A month of bounty, when the fish are plentiful and the corn grows high. This is the scent of breezes passing over the Great Lakes, mingling gently with traditional lunar herbs. Sandy shores and sweet fresh water, lichen, green algae, and whitestem pondweed, with benzoin, cyclamen, moonlit musk, cucumber, blue poppy, and agave. Sturgeon Moon is also live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Artwork by Jennifer Williamson. 
No fishes were harmed in the making of these products, and no, Sturgeon Moon does not smell like fishguts or roe! Hee! Also in the LE section this month… PENUMBRA The observer's space within a partial eclipse. Rich purple musk, moonflower, red sandalwood, black amber, oakmoss, copal, lavender, neroli, tobacco, and pomegranate. Sturgeon Moon and Penumbra are $17.50 per bottle, and will be live until July 20, 2008. Also live this month… (insert dramatic pause and drumroll here, for its been two years since our last one!)… CHAOS THEORY IV: EDGE OF CHAOS Each bottle of Chaos Theory is truly unique, a fragrant fractal, and exercise in the joy of chance and uncertainty! Each is a one-of-a-kind, utterly random combination of scents, the composition of which is based on whim, mood and gut instinct. Most common allergens have been omitted from the experiment. No pennyroyal, no nuts, no cinnamon, no cassia. Regardless, if you have any sensitivities, please do not participate in Chaos Theory. The contents of the oils are not recorded [that's the whole point!] and we will not be able to answer questions about specific bottles of CT4 or guarantee that an allergen is not present in your order. By purchasing CT:4, you agree to absolve Black Phoenix of any responsibility related to an allergic reaction to one of the oils in this series. Please make a responsible choice, and use caution and discretion when ordering. This is intended to be a fun, exciting project. Please bear in mind that all Black Phoenix oils are made in an environment that contains nuts, both literally and figuratively. The Chaos blends were created by both myself and Mister Constantine, with a handful contributed by Teddy, so you get an extra dose of chaos! Sturgeon Moon and Penumbra are $17.50 per bottle, and will be live until July 20, 2008. CT:4 is $15 per bottle, and will be live until August 18, 2008. The long-awaited Snow, Glass, Apples perfume will be making its debut at San Diego Comic Con! The SGA package includes Neil Gaiman's short story in chapbook format, beautifully illustrated by Julie Dillon, and a 5ml bottle of perfume inspired by the tale. This set is a limited run of 1000. 250 will be sold by CBLDF at Comic Con 2008, and the remainder will go on sale July 30, 2008 on the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab web site and will be available as long as supplies last. All profits from the sales of this set go to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund! The next act of Carnaval will be coming soon, and, as is BPAL tradition, the Halloween scents will be going live in August! From the 17 June 2008 update: Two summer moons are rising in the summer sky! - you have your faithful narrator's pregnancy psychosis to thank for it! Heh! I'll spare you the long-winded Piscean Fish Story behind it, suffice to say that my progesterone-pumped whacko'ness made one moon, forgot about it, and made another. Someone needs more sleep! For your pleasure: The moon was but a chin of gold A night or two ago, And now she turns her perfect face Upon the world below. Her forehead is of amplest blond; Her cheek like beryl stone; Her eye unto the summer dew The likest I have known. Her lips of amber never part; But what must be the smile Upon her friend she could bestow Were such her silver will! And what a privilege to be But the remotest star! For certainly her way might pass Beside your twinkling door. Her bonnet is the firmament, The universe her shoe, The stars the trinkets at her belt, Her dimities of blue. HAY MOON Hay absolute, tall grasses, dry honey, mallow, cardamom, amber, and wheat. MEAD MOON Golden mead, fermented with gruit, nutmeg, clove, cinnamon, ginger root, sweet-briar, rosemary, and lemon. Hay Moon and Mead Moon are also live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! Artwork courtesy of our beloved Jennifer Williamson.   Hay and Mead will be live at both sites until June 20, 2008. From the Friday the 13th update: 13 is live at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and the Four Seasons Inquest is live at Black Phoenix Trading Post! A portion of the sales from BPAL's 13 and the Four Seasons Inquest will benefit the Wildlife Waystation. Due to county issues and the current economic climate, the Wildlife Waystation is currently unable to help itself the way it normally would with tours and public events. With operation costs climbing and donations dipping, its getting harder and harder for them to keep going. They're good people that do good work, caring and sheltering 400+ animals, and we want to do what we can to help. From the 18 May 2008 update: Dyan Moon is live at BPAL and BPTP! DYAN MOON Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wishèd sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever; Thou that mak'st a day of night, Goddess excellently bright. The essence of the pure, unsullied virgin moon and of the huntress that stalks her prey by the moon's light: amaranth, musk rose, juniper, chaste tree, sweet bay, chamomile, rose mallow, Madonna lily, blue musk, wisteria, and iris. And... whaddya know?! -- Acts IV and V of Carnaval Diabolique are live, too! Praise, love, and adoration for Jennifer Williamson for doodling Act IV and Act IV: the Ladies of the Grindhouse, and to Alicia Dabney for doodling Act V. Thank you, ladies, for helping us bring the Carnaval to life! From the 18 April 2008 update: Holy moly, there's a lot going on at BPAL this month! There are new Neil and Terry-inspired scents all across the board! ++ GOOD OMENS THE BUGGRE ALLE THIS BIBLE The book was commonly known as the Buggre Alle This Bible. The lengthy compositor's error, if such it may be called, occurs in the book of Ezekiel, chapter 48, verse five: 2. And bye the border of Dan, fromme the east side to the west side, a portion for Afher. 3. And bye the border of Afhter, fromme the east side even untoe the west side, a portion for Naphtali. 4. And bye the border of Naphtali, from the east side untoe the west side, a portion for Manaffeh. 5. Buggre all this for a Larke. I amme sick to mye Hart of typefettinge. Master Biltonn if no Gentelmann, and Master Scagges noe more than a tighte fisted Southwarke Knobbefticke. I telle you, onne a daye laike thif Ennywone half an oz. of Sense should bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the liuelong daie inn thif mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workefhoppe. @*"AE@;!* 6. And bye the border of Ephraim, from the east fide even untoe the west fide, a portion for Reuben. [The Buggre Alle This Bible was also noteworthy for having twenty seven verses in the third chapter of Genesis, instead of the more usual twenty four. They followed verse 24, which in the King James version reads: "So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life," and read: 25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying Where is the flaming sword which was given unto thee? 26 And the Angel said, I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next. 27 And the Lord did not ask him again. It appears that these verses were inserted during the proof stage. In those days it was common practice for printers to hang proof sheets to the wooden beams outside their shops, for the edification of the populace and some free proofreading, and since the whole print run was subsequently burned anyway, no one bothered to take up this matter with the nice Mr. A. Ziraphale, who ran the bookshop two doors along and was always so helpful with the translations, and whose handwriting was instantly recognizable.] Crumbling paper and ancient cracked leather with a touch of tobacco leaf and incense. JASMINE COTTAGE She'd rented the cottage furnished, which meant that the actual furniture was the special sort you find in these circumstances and had probably been left out for the dustmen by the local War on Want shop. It didn't matter. She didn't expect to be here long. If Agnes was right, she wouldn't be anywhere long. Nor would anyone else. Camellia, jasmine, heather, orange blossom, osmanthus, wisteria, thyme, angelica, freesia, granny's nightcap, and English wildflowers. NANNY ASHTORETH She wore a knit tweed suit and discreet pearl earrings. Something about her might have said nanny, but it said it in an undertone of the sort employed by British butlers in a certain type of American film. It also coughed discreetly and muttered that she could well be the sort of nanny who advertises unspecified but strangely explicit services in certain magazines. Middle Eastern flowers, amber, honey, blood red-berries, whip leather, and polished paddle wood. PEPPER She herself had short red hair and a face which was not so much freckled as one big freckle with occasional areas of skin. Pepper's given first names were Pippin Galadriel Moonchild. She had been given them in a naming ceremony in a muddy valley field that contained three sick sheep and a number of leaky polythene teepees. Her mother had chosen the Welsh valley of Pant y Gyrdl as the ideal site to Return to Nature. (Six months later, sick of the rain, the mosquitoes, the men, the tent trampling sheep who ate first the whole commune's marijuana crop and then its antique minibus, and by now beginning to glimpse why almost the entire drive of human history has been an attempt to get as far away from Nature as possible, Pepper's mother returned to Pepper's surprised grandparents in Tadfield, bought a bra, and enrolled in a sociology course with a deep sigh of relief.) There are only two ways a child can go with a name like Pippin Galadriel Moonchild, and Pepper had chosen the other one: the three male Them had learned this on their first day of school, in the playground, at the age of four. They had asked her her name, and, all innocent, she had told them. Subsequently a bucket of water had been needed to separate Pippin Galadriel Moonchild's teeth from Adam's shoe. Wensleydale's first pair of spectacles had been broken, and Brian's sweater needed five stitches. The Them were together from then on, and Pepper was Pepper forever, except to her mother, and (when they were feeling especially courageous, and the Them were almost out of earshot) Greasy Johnson and the Johnsonites, the village's only other gang. Wild English roses, French gardenia, vanilla, honey, golden ginger, blood orange, tuberose, bergamot, and geranium. WENSLEYDALE "My father says there's no such thing as witches," said Wensleydale, who had fair, wavy hair, and peered seriously out at life through thick black rimmed spectacles. It was widely believed that he had once been christened Jeremy, but no one ever used the name, not even his parents, who called him Youngster. They did this in the subconscious hope that he might take the hint; Wensleydale gave the impression of having been born with a mental age of forty seven. An immaculately clean scent: well-scrubbed soapy skin and fresh cotton. ++ AMERICAN GODS THE IFRIT The taxi driver comes out of the shower, wet, with a towel wrapped around his midsection. He is not wearing his sunglasses, and in the dim room his eyes burn with scarlet flames. Salim blinks back tears. "I wish you could see what I see," he says. "I do not grant wishes," whispers the ifrit, dropping his towel and pushing Salim gently, but irresistibly, down onto the bed. Desert sand, red musk, blackened ginger, dragon's blood resin, black pepper, cinnamon, and tobacco. THE NORNS' FARMHOUSE The farmhouse was dark and shut up. The meadows were overgrown and seemed abandoned. The farm roof was crumbling at the back; it was covered in black plastic sheeting. They jolted over a ridge and Shadow saw it there. It was silver-gray and it was higher than the farm-house. It was the most beautiful tree Shadow had ever seen: spectral and yet utterly real and almost perfectly symmetrical. It also looked instantly familiar: he wondered if he had dreamed it, then he realized that no, he had seen it before, or a representation of it man, many times. It was Wednesday's silver tie pin. The VW bus jolted and bumped across the meadow, and it came to a stop about twenty feet from the trunk of the tree. There were three women standing by the tree. At first glance Shadow thought they were the Zorya, but no, they were three women he did not know. They looked tired and bored, as if they had been standing there a long time. Each of them held a wooden ladder. The biggest also carried a brown sack. They looked like a set of Russian dolls: a tall one - she was Shadow's height, or even taller - a middle-sized one, and a woman so short and hunched that at first glance Shadow wrongly supposed her to be a child. They looked so much alike that Shadow was certain the women must be sisters. The smallest of the women dropped to a curtsey when the bus drew up. The other two just stared. They were sharing a cigarette, and they smoked it down to the filter before one of them stubbed it out against a root. Dusty, ancient wood, horehound, and sage, with viper's bugloss, mugwort, chamomile, nettle, apple blossom, chervil, and ashes. ++ STARDUST THE EAST But there were times when the wind blew from beyond the wall, bringing with it the smell of mint and thyme and redcurrants, and at those times there were strange colors seen in the flames in the fireplaces in the village. The scent of the winds beyond the wall: bluebonnet, passion flower, freesia, jasmine tea, mint, thyme, and redcurrant. THE STORMHOLD The Stormhold had been carved out of the peak of Mount Huon by the first lord of Stormhold, who reigned at the end of the First Age and into the beginning of the Second. It had been expanded, improved upon, excavated and tunneled into by successive Masters of Stormhold, until the original mountain peak now raked the sky like the ornately carved tusk of some great, grey, granite beast. The Stormhold itself was perched high in the sky, where the thunder clouds gathered before they went down to the lower air, spilling rain and lightning and devastation upon the place beneath. Creeping moss, slick granite, murky vetiver, lightning-charged ozone, and icy rain. As always, this is a not-for-profit project, and all proceeds from the American Gods and Stardust scents go to the CBLDF, and the proceeds from the Good Omens scents are split between the CBLDF and the Orangutan Foundation UK. We love you, Neil and Terry! Thank you!!! Next up, we have the Loon'acy -- ++ A LITTLE LUNACY DRAGON MOON 2008 In some cultures, the Dragon is benevolent, bestowing blessings and granting wishes. In others, the Dragon is an icon of destruction and harbinger of catastrophe. In all its incarnations, both baneful and benign, the Dragon is a symbol of strength, authority, and the raw power of nature. Our Dragon Moon represents the forces of rebirth and the vigor that springtime brings: dragon's blood resin, galbanum, blue sage, lavender, peppermint, sweetgrass, frankincense, moonglow magnolia, bergamot, and green cedar. Dragon Moon is also live at Black Phoenix Trading Post  Artwork by Jennifer Williamson! Dragon Moon will come down from both sites on 22 April 2008 along with the Atomic Luau Lounge! We are thrilled to present a pair of long-awaited additions to the general catalogue: ++ DOC CONSTANTINE'S PHARMACOPOEIA BRUISED VIOLET COMPOUND Promotes vigor in undeath, and relieves the discomforts and complaints so common to incorporeal spirits! The learned and eminent scholar Alessandro Cagliostro once remarked, "Long experience has taught me to prize Doctor Constantine's Compounds above all others!" Crushed violets, red currant, patchouli root, and Spanish moss. NOSTRUM REMEDIUM A Universal Panacea! Revitalizes the spirit and balances the humors! Prolongs life indefinitely! Black tea leaf, invigorating wasabi extract, sweetened by honey. Much despair and suffering can be prevented by the discreet use of Doc Constantine's remedies! SLIPPERY POPPY TINCTURE Supports psychic health and strengthens the astral body! Dissolves and expels telepathic blockage! Every medium should have it! Use before every séance! Poppy flowers, acai berry, and honey. STIMULATING SASSAFRAS STRENGTHENER Valuable in relieving the vapors and in reversing depraved conditions of the system! Doc Constantine's tonics will make you happy, hale, and hearty! Sassafras, vanilla extract, oak leaf, CO2 butter extract, and onycha. While these blends certainly do soothe the mind and bolster the spirit, they are sold as curios only. They are not to be taken internally, or used in any capacity other than that of a perfume. These are tributes to quack medicines of yore and were created in the spirit of nostalgia. This is all tongue-in-cheek, friends. Please do not consider these serious pharmaceuticals. The illustrations for Doc Constantine's series were hand-drawn by the inimitable Madame Talbot. Please pay her site a visit to see more of her astounding artwork, fascinating curio exhibitions, and beautiful handmade dolls. ++ PHOENIX STEAMWORKS AND RESEARCH FACILITY PHOENIX STEAMWORKS Glowing liquid passes through the fogged retorts of ancient alembics, sparks fly from behind a massive workbench, and a cloud of thick incense smoke hangs low, all casting strange and surreal flashes of light and shadow on tall bolted-steel walls. The chug and hum of gargantuan machines echo through the chamber. Burnished gold and oiled bronze notes with Abramelin incense and sage. AELOPILE Smoldering coals heat the device from below, and steam hisses through two curved pipes, rotating the shining brass sphere. Glowing amber and citrus, labdanum, verbena, cedar, and oud. THE ANTIKYTHERA MECHANISM Bronze gears spin inside a polished wooden case, and an entire universe dances within. Teakwood, oak, black vanilla, and tobacco. THE COIL The walls reverberate with a resounding boom as the mechanism is activated, and the boom settles into a hum with a deep, growling buzz. Purple-white and lightning-yellow streamers of electricity cavort over enameled copper wires and through gleaming glass globes; the room is set afire with corona spray, and bare fluorescent bulbs mounted on the walls blaze to life. Ozone, eucalyptus and mint with purple orchid, passionflower, white ginger, and purple lotus. ETHER Glass globes fill with sweet vitriol, and the gas passes lazily through slim tubes. A misty fog veils the senses, and the world fades to hazy, opaque nothingness. Translucent blooms, ethereal white resins, and davana. GALVANIC GOGGLES Golden goggles fitted with zinc and copper plates dangle heavily by their leather straps from a hook mounted to the wall. Its crystal lenses are effulgent with residual electric energy. Metallic notes with Indian musk, tobacco flower, and African balsam. NO. 93 ENGINE Beeswax candles reflect flickering light onto a brass-coated boiler engraved with the words "Solve Et Coagula". The gargantuan boiler sends torrents of steam into rigid pipes that exert force onto innumerable pistons and turbine blades. The motion is harnessed to propel energy into gargantuan cogs and gears that move liquid metals, herbs, and resins into a series of alembics. Balm of Gilead, benzoin, frankincense, balsam of peru, beeswax, saffron, galbanum, calamus, hyssop, mastic, lemon balm, and white sage. THE OBSIDIAN WIDOW Tinkling tiny feet scuttle across a massive oak desk, navigating through a flurry of papers and a maze of discarded books, wires, and bolts. Glistening green venom beads at its chelicerae, and a ruby hourglass flashes from the creature's underbelly as it begins to weave. Pinot noir, dark myrrh, red sandalwood, black patchouli, night-blooming jasmine, and attar of rose. THE ROBOTIC SCARAB Pinpoints of red light beaming from its eyes scan the room, and in a flutter of leather wings, it scuttles across the wooden floorboards. Polished metallic notes, glossy leather, frankincense, star anise, and thin lubricating oils. SMOKESTACK Grey-brown flue gasses belch from colossal steel and concrete monoliths, forming bloated clouds in the dusk-dark sky. Creosote, coal, and industrial waste. VIOLET RAY Though the doctor continued to assure her that the treatment was therapeutic, her anxiety increased. Ignoring her feeble protestations, the doctor produced a pair of glass wands, and set to work. As the machine hummed to life, her misgivings were dissolved in a haze of unexpected pleasure. Warmth, contrasted sharply with a million white-hot pinpricks and a strangely cooling blast of electricity, surged through her thighs. The metal electrodes secured beneath her corset flared as the electrical current swelled through her nerve endings. White mint, purple musk, violet, lilac, ylang ylang, lavender moss, and sandalwood. Illustrations by the phenomenal Mlle. Julie Dillon! Don't forget! - Its baseball season, boys and girls!  And that's it for now! Please keep an eye out for the next Carnaval Diabolique update coming soon! From the 20 March 2008 update: April first is coming, and at BPAL, that means foolishness. Last year we brought you the Dogs Playing Poker Salon Series. This year, we are thrilled to present: ++ ATOMIC LUAU LOUNGE In the spirit of Polynesian Pop and Tiki Culture, we present Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's Atomic Luau Lounge: the Exotica Collection. Tiki Culture became a phenomenon in the late 50's, likely inspired by Hawaii's admission to the union in 1959 and by the memories of World War II veterans that were stationed in the South Pacifi. Tiki enthusiasts were influenced by a panoply of Polynesian themes, and they embraced pop renditions of island artwork, dress, and music, revamping them with a distinctly campy Western flair. This is our tribute to Donn Beach, a true Pisces if there ever was one. Light the torches, bust out the leis, and bust out the Martin Denny LPs! Without you, Donn, we wouldn't pu pu platters to gorge on, or Zombies to chug! TIKI QUEEN Monoi de Tahiti, vanilla, white coconut, tuberose, ylang ylang, white musk, red hibiscus, and neroli. TIKI KING Black coconut, black musk, lemon blossom, and ironwood bark. ++ ATOMIC LUAU LOUNGE: THE BAR BLUE FIRE Papaya, blueberry, lemongrass, and gin. GOLDEN WAVE Tangerine, gin, passion fruit, guava, and tonic. RANGOON RIPTIDE Pineapple, mandarin orange, raspberry, passion fruit, and rum. SCREECHING PARROT Golden rum, apricot liquor, pineapple, pomegranate, ginger, brandy, grapefruit, and pink lime. TE PO Jamaican rum, almond liquor, orange water, sugar syrup, lime peel, black cherry, vodka, and mint. UPA UPA Spiced rum, coconut, pineapple, and vanilla. ++ ATOMIC LUAU LOUNGE: FLOTSAM BOO BAM Bamboo reed, palm frond, and hibiscus. MARAE Vanilla orchid, Monoi tiare, gardenia, and light incense. MOAI Volcanic ash and Easter Island palm. MOANA Seaweed, awapuhi, and sea foam. OPUHI Ginger blossom and vanilla orchid. TUPAPAU White sandalwood, pikaki, 'umi'umi-o-dole, and plumeria. This month's Lunacy also falls prey to our April shenanigans: WORM MOON Do not smirk as a hearse goes by, For you may be the next to die. They wrap you up in a big white sheet And throw you down six feet deep. They put you in a big black box, And cover you up with dirt and rocks. All goes well for a week or two, Then things start changing; all is new. The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, The worms play pinochle on your snout. A big green worm with rolling eyes, Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes. Til your blood turns mossy green And oozes out like Devonshire cream. Worm Moon marks the season of rains, when the worms scuttle forth, aerating the earth with their movements and enriching the soil by digesting waste in organic material, which creates organic fertilizer. Since April is Black Phoenix's Month of Absurdity, we present a melding of Victorian Grotesquery and springtime fecundity: mold-crusted dirt, decomposing organic matter, coffin wood, drooping funeral flowers, congealed blood, gloomy lunar oils, cuckoo flower, and a gruesome burst of overripe red fruits. Also featured in our LE section: APRIL FOOL The first of April is the day we remember what we are the other 364 days of the year. - Mark Twain The Fool is many things, but rarely is he foolish. He is the inscrutable zero, he is innocence perfected, and he is the nothing from which all things are created. It is the Fool that reveals truth and brings wisdom to King Lear, and it is the Fool that finally finds the Holy Grail. Huckleberry, white rose, tangerine, nicotiana, lemon blossom, and Fool's Parsley. BELTANE 2008 One of the holiest days in the Pagan calendar, Beltane [May Day, Cetsamhain, Floralia and Roodmas... also, Beltaine, Bealtaine, Bealtuinn, Beletene, La Bheltine] is the Day of Baal's Fire, and marks the midpoint of Sol's path between the Vernal Equinox and Summer Solstice. In Druidic tradition, need-fires were set atop hills in a symbolic gesture of bringing the Sun's light down to Earth. Celebrants danced around the fires in harmony with the Sun's seeming movement through the sky, and passed eadar dà theine Bhealltuinn, between the Fires of Beltane, to purify themselves. In Scotland, all hearth fires were extinguished, and the flames from the need-fires were used to rekindle their flames, bringing blessings and good fortune into the household. It doesn't matter where your faith lies, Beltane is sacred to us simply because we're human. It is a celebration of new growth, rebirth, of the fertility of our land, our spirits and our bodies, and is a reminder of the joy in simply being alive. Celebrate life! Wind some flowers into your hair, dab a little oil behind each ear, toss the first petals of springtime onto your yard, and bless your garden the old fashioned way! Mugwort, French rose, Lily of the Valley, broom, frankincense, myrrh, benzoin, foxglove, woodruff, rowan wood, ivy, sandalwood, spring mint, thyme, iris, copal, and night blooming jasmine. HEXENNACHT 2008 The Night of the Witches. In the Teutonic calendar, April 30, not October 31, was the night that the witches congregated to celebrate their Work through ecstatic dance, wild music and revelry. The witches fêted with spirits, fairies, and a bevy of otherworldy creatures atop Brockenberg peak in the Harz region of Germany, where they lit an enormous bonfire and cavorted naked until midnight... at which point they donned their robes, boarded their brooms, flying rams and sacred goats, scooped up their cat familiars, and sped off into the night. In later days, it was believed that on this night the witches conjured the devil, who would then select one of them for his bride. This perfume is the scent of the witches' revel: German fir and forest herbs, incense and bonfire smoke, infernal flora, glowing amber, and the wet, glimmering scent of skin warmed by dance. The formulas for Beltane and Hexennacht are new for 2008. April Fool, Worm Moon, Hexennacht 2008, Beltane 2008, Earth Rat and Parentalia are $17.50 each. All of our Atomic Luau Lounge and Lupercalia blends are $17.50, with the exception of Tiki Queen and Tiki King, which are $23.00 each. The Salon Limited Edition series, Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements, are $27.50 each. The Lupercalia blends, April Fool, Worm Moon, Hexennacht 2008, Beltane 2008, Earth Rat, and Parentalia, will be available until March 23, 2008. The Aromic Luau blends will be available until April 22, 2008. And with that, let's take a peep at what's new at Black Phoenix Trading Post:  Also new this month:  Artwork by the phenomenal Julie Dillon. Rubbed bronze, gold, and sky blue shimmer ink on black tee. For a limited time, a preview of of next month's steampunk-inspired scent line will be available: the Phoenix Steamworks flagship oil with its accompanying tee! You will receive a tee in the size and style of your choice, plus a 5ml bottle of Phoenix Steamworks: Burnished gold and oiled bronze notes with Abramelin incense and sage. Also new at the Post: three new locket designs -- Cheshire Cat, Clockwork, and the Queen of Hearts. Clockwork was designed by Alicia Dabney, and is 925 sterling silver that has been partially gold washed using a method popularized in the 19th century. Portions of the face of the Clockwork locket have been deliberately tarnished. An addition has been made to the House of Phoenix's yoga line: the Hemlock pant --  The scents were created by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab for the Trading Post. These sprays are generously scented with copious amounts of Black Phoenix perfume oil and disperse beautifully. A little goes a long way. The labels are printed on an Earth-friendly corn biopolymer, and as always, the Black Phoenix Partnership does not test on animals. We test on friends and family, and on the linens of friends and family! Please note: The sprays are not for use on the body. Do not use near an open flame. Please do not shoot these sprays into your eyes, or attempt to use them as perfume. Do not drink the sprays, or use them for any other unforeseen funnybusiness. These mists may stain pale and delicate fabrics. Don't pour the sprays onto granny's antique linens, that's fer sure! And last, but not least… Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab notepads. Handy lil' pads that are perfect for taking to a meet & sniff or Will Call, doodling, or making into very small paper airplanes! From the 19 February 2008 update: Good evening, all! Your faithful narrator is recovering from a challenging first trimester and the rigors of Mercury retrograde, so this update is a small one. SUGAR MOON No way to see him on this moonless night --- I lie awake longing, burning, breasts racing fire, heart in flames. Sugar cane, blue musk, mahogany, black orchid, black currant, violet, blackberry leaf, teak, strawberry, and dusky rose. HANAMI Sleeping under the trees on Yoshino mountain The spring breeze wearing cherry blossom petals In Japan, the advent of spring is heralded by a blanket of pink and white that spreads gently from the South to the North to cover the islands. Hana-mi translates to "flower watching", and it is a sport of leisure that has been enjoyed since the Heian Period. MORT DE CESAR The essence of intrigue, betrayal, and impending doom. Well, then, Antony, who was a friend of Caesar's and a robust man, was detained outside by Brutus Albinus, who purposely engaged him in a lengthy conversation; but Caesar went in, and the senate rose in his honour. Some of the partisans of Brutus took their places round the back of Caesar's chair, while others went to meet him, as though they would support the petition which Tillius Cimber presented to Caesar in behalf of his exiled brother, and they joined their entreaties to his and accompanied Caesar up to his chair. But when, after taking his seat, Caesar continued to repulse their petitions, and, as they pressed upon him with greater importunity, began to show anger towards one and another of them, Tillius seized his toga with both hands and pulled it down from his neck. This was the signal for the assault. It was Casca who gave him the first blow with his dagger, in the neck, not a mortal would, nor even a deep one, for which he was too much confused, as was natural at the beginning of a deed of great daring; so that Caesar turned about, grasped the knife, and held it fast. At almost the same instant both cried out, the smitten man in Latin: "Accursed Casca, what does thou?" and the smiter, in Greek, to his brother: "Brother, help!" So the affair began, and those who were not privy to the plot were filled with consternation and horror at what was going on; they dared not fly, nor go to Caesar's help, nay, nor even utter a word. But those who had prepared themselves for the murder bared each of them his dagger, and Caesar, hemmed in on all sides, whichever way he turned confronting blows of weapons aimed at his face and eyes, driven hither and thither like a wild beast, was entangled in the hands of all; for all had to take part in the sacrifice and taste of the slaughter. Therefore Brutus also gave him one blow in the groin. And it is said by some writers that although Caesar defended himself against the rest and darted this way and that and cried aloud, when he saw that Brutus had drawn his dagger, he pulled his toga down over his head and sank, either by chance or because pushed there by his murderers, against the pedestal on which the statue of Pompey stood. And the pedestal was drenched with his blood, so that one might have thought that Pompey himself was presiding over this vengeance upon his enemy, who now lay prostrate at his feet, quivering from a multitude of wounds. For it is said that he received twenty-three; and many of the conspirators were wounded by one another, as they struggled to plant all those blows in one body. Conspiracy and murder in the Theatre of Pompey: balsam of Peru, bitter clove, motia attar, amber musk, opoponax, cypress, red wine grapes, tagetes, spikenard, and blood accord. Sugar Moon and Hanami are $17.50 per 5ml, and Mort de Cesar is $20. All three will be live until February 22, 2008. At Black Phoenix Trading Post, the Sugar Moon tee is live!  A design inspired by classic tattoo art, doodled by Ms. Jennifer Williamson. The Sugar Moon tee will be live at Trading Post until February 22, 2008. From the 24 January 2008: Per our announcement on December 17th, the following scents were discontinued today: Asphodel Calliope Clio Erato Euterpe Goneril Hamadryad Kostnice Melpomene Penthus Phantom Polyhymnia Rage Shroud Terpsichore Thaleia Urania Vinland Yerevan LVRH: Ahathoor LVRH: Khephra LVRH: Ra LVRH: Tum Thank you for understanding! From the 20 January 2008 update: There is a whole lot of Lunacy this month! At Black Phoenix Trading Post: Two new bath oils! LUXURIA BATH OIL Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes. -- the Marquis de Sade Red musk, patchouli, pomegranate, red currant, bourbon vanilla, nutmeg, sweet orange. CASTITAS BATH OIL Chastity - the most unnatural of all the sexual perversions. -- Aldous Huxley Rice flower, vanilla, and cream. Also, two new BPAL tees have been added to the permanent catalogue!   And, the Lunacies:   Moon of Ice and Cheshire Moon will be live at Black Phoenix Trading Post until January 24, 2008. And at Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab… MOON OF ICE The Moon of Ice shines its pale white light on snow-blanketed hills and barren fields. Icicles dangle from skeletal branches, and the desperate howl of starving men and beasts echo through the darkness. Frost-crusted winter flowers, white pine, eucalyptus, and traditional lunar oils. PISCES Mutable water: the essence of faith. Hemp, opium poppy, sarsaparilla, grains of paradise, passion flower, wisteria, Irish moss, and gentian. CHESHIRE MOON The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good- natured, she thought: still it had VERY long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect. `Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. `Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. `Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?' `That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat. `I don't much care where --' said Alice. `Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat. `-- so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation. `Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.' Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. `What sort of people live about here?' `In THAT direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round, `lives a Hatter: and in THAT direction,' waving the other paw, `lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.' `But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked. `Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.' `How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice. `You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.' A lunatic's blend of lunar herbs and blossoms, with lemongrass, guava, pink grapefruit, banyan fruit, hibiscus, and cherry blossom. LUNAR ECLIPSE Skoll the wolf who shall scare the Moon Till he flies to the Wood-of-Woe: Hati the wolf, Hridvitnir's kin, Who shall pursue the Sun. Red musk, black currant, violet leaf, wild frankincense, lavender, black orchid, Darjeeling tea, vetiver, red moss, myrrh, Moroccan spices, blackened fruit gums, and tobacco. Cheshire Moon and Moon of Ice are $17.50 each. Pisces 2008 is $20, and Lunar Eclipse is $23. Moon of Ice and Pisces vanish on January 24, 2008. Cheshire Moon and Lunar Eclipse will be live until February 22, 2008. And just in time for Valentine's Day - A double feature tribute to B-movie sci-fi horror romance brought to you by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Dark Delicacies! The scentmasters of the WEIRD In their LATEST and most TERRIFYING!  ++ DIARY OF A LOVESTRUCK TEENAGE CANNIBAL The NIGHTMARE TERROR of TEENAGE love gone GRISLY! She's HELL-BENT on romance, THRILL-CRAZED, and HUNGRY! There's NO ESCAPE from her clutches! A deranged darling, sweet and sociopathic! Clotted vanilla cream, pink pepper, grapefruit, blood lily, red ginger, English pear, and lemon-squeezed candyfloss! ++ I MARRIED A VAMPIRE FROM PLANET X Unspeakable HORROR and SHOCKING supernatural space SEX! Can they find MARITAL BLISS on EARTH? A blend of blood-soaked daemonorops, black amber, dark musk, glistening leather, caraway, smoky myrrh, cinnamon, and clove that is glowing with a luminescent, space-addled coating of clary sage, lemon balm, white grapefruit rind, mandarin, green melon, and white musk. Available solely through those wacky kids at Dark Delicacies. Shipping of the B-Movie scents will begin after January 25, 2008. IMP REMINDER! Imps are not available for the following categories of scents: Limited Edition Carnaval Diabolique Lunacy Blends / Astrological Blends The Neil Gaiman Series The Stardust Series The Good Omens Series The Shojo Beat scents Any Twilight Alchemy Lab oils Any oils offered at Black Phoenix Trading Post The following imps are sold only in pre-packaged full sets: Panacea The Chakras The Salon If you request a sample of a limited edition scent, we will swap for a random general catalog scent. And, with the rising of Pisces, this cycle's Suspiciendo Despicio series is concluded. Thanks, everyone! Happy Loonacee! From the 14 January 2008 update: Love is in the air at Black Phoenix, and it has suffused both our Limited Edition section and the general catalogue. First things first: the Love Potions section is now "Ars Amatoria". Why? Because we're a little mercurial here at the Lab, and it seemed like a good idea. New to Ars Amatoria… ++ GENERAL CATALOGUE: ARS AMATORIA DEEP IN EARTH Deep in earth my love is lying And I must weep alone. Rose geranium, Spanish moss, Irish yew, and graveyard dirt. DEFUTUTA Good Gods, what a night that was, The bed was so soft, and how we clung, Burning together, lying this way and that, Our uncontrollable passions Flowing through our mouths. If I could only die that way, I'd say goodbye to the business of living. Olive blossom, honey, smoky vanilla, cinnamon, jasmine, sandalwood, and champaca flower. FASCINUM Hic habitat felicitas! The penis was a potent and popular symbol of good fortune, strength, power, and fertility in ancient Rome. Images of phalluses adorned Roman homes and shops, bringing the positive energy that the symbol represents into the lives of the inhabitants. Golden amber, golden musk, litsea cubeba, cedar, and saffron. L'ECOLE DES FILLES We sang till almost night, and drank my good store of wine; and then they parted and I to my chamber, where I did read through L'Escholle des Filles; a lewd book, but what doth me no wrong to read for imagination's sake… and after I had done it, I burned it, that it might not be among my books to my shame. Published around 1655, this is considered to be the origin of modern pornography in France. It is a discourse between two young ladies, the elder instructing the younger in the ways of passion. This is a libertine's celebration of decadence, debauchery, and sexual freedom: orange blossom, ambergris, orris root, white rose, lemon balm, jonquil, carrot seed, and benzoin. LOVE'S TORMENTS Love's torments sought a place of rest, Where all might drear and lonely be; They found ere long my desert breast, And nestled in its vacancy. White sandalwood, neroli, and vetiver. TO A WOMAN Thy fatal shafts unerring move, I bow before thine altar, Love. I feel thy soft resistless flame Glide swift through all my vital frame. For while I gaze my bosom glows, My blood in tides impetuous flows; Hope, fear, and joy alternate roll, And floods of transports whelm my soul. My faltering tongue attempts in vain In soothing murmurs to complain; My tongue some secret magic ties, My murmurs sink in broken sighs. Condemned to nurse eternal care, And ever drop the silent tear, Unheard I mourn, unknown I sigh, Unfriended live, unpitied die. Benzoin, cassis bud, patchouli, rose otto, and petitgrain. And, the new Limited Edition scents… ++ LUNAR NEW YEAR EARTH RAT A new year's blessing! Peony, China's national flower, with bamboo for flexibility, plum blossom for perseverance, courage, and hope, tangerine for wealth, lychee for strong family relationships and peace in the home, orange for happiness, pine resin for constancy, golden kumquat and quince for prosperity, narcissus and King mandarin for good fortune, coconut for longevity, and candied melon for good health, with a splash of blazing red of dragon's blood... to help you scare away the rampaging Nian. PARENTALIA The Day of the Fathers. A festival of remembrance, honoring family that has passed into the next life. Cypress, rose, violet, frankincense, ambrette, marjoram, and Lebanese cedar. ++ LUPERCALIA 2008 UPDATE ANACTORIA I feel thy blood against my blood; my pain Pains thee, and lips bruise lips, and vein stings vein. Let fruit be crushed on fruit, let flower on flower Breast kindle breast, and either burn one hour. Why wilt thou follow lesser loves? are thine Too weak to bear these hands and lips of mine? The scent of the throes of violent passion: entangled limbs, teeth on flesh, furiously grasping hands, the taste of blood and sweat. Golden amber, white honey, red currant, daemonorops, kush, and Arabian musk. KHAJURAHO 2008 The fabled Khajuraho temples of India are shrines of love in all its myriad forms. They are a celebration of love itself -- transcendental, spiritual and erotic. This is a rejection of sorrow, spiritual ennui and despair. The sexual motifs that adorn the temples, and the temples themselves, are monuments to ecstasy and to passion, and through that, they are also monuments to spiritual fulfillment. It is believed that the realization of moksha by dedicating oneself to adhyatma and dharma can be attained only by first experiencing sexual satisfaction. In the midst of the drudgery and struggle that we sometimes endure during the course of our Earthly lives, it is vitally important that we remember the joy found in kama, and that in kama we can achieve transformation of the body and soul. This is a blissful, euphoric blend based on an ancient Indian love potion: honey, date palm, tuberose, davana blossom, amber, white sandalwood, vanilla bean, Damask rose, and champaca flower. LUPERCI 2008 Piss off, Saint Valentine! Lupercalia is an ancient Roman celebration, held on February 15th, that kicked in the advent of Spring with a very, very festive purification, fertility and sexuality ritual. The ritual began near the cave of Lupercal on the Palatine, an area sacred to Faunus, as well as Ruminia, Romulus and Remus. During Lupercalia, Vestal Virgins first made offerings of sacred cakes to the fig tree under which the she-wolf suckled the Sacred Twins. A dog and two goats were then offered in sacrifice to Faunus. The blood of the sacrifice was smeared onto two naked patrician youths, who were assisted by the Virgins, and the blood was wiped clean with sacred wool dipped in milk. The youths donned the skins of the sacrificial goats, wielding whips made from the goat skins, and then led the priests and the Virgins around the pomarium, and around the base hills of Rome. This was a ceremony of great happiness and merriment, and was of particular interest to young women: being touched by the goat-whips young men that led the procession ensured their fertility in the coming year. It is believed that, after the initial rite, male participants would draw the name of an available maiden, with whom he spent the rest of the night. This scent is for the Luperci, the Chosen of Faunus, the Brothers of the Wolf: raw, down and dirty patchouli, Gurjam balsam, and essence of Sampson Root sweetened with the heightened sexuality of beeswax, virile juniper, oakmoss, ambrette seed over honey and East African musk. PARLEMENT OF FOULES 2008 For the Valentine's Day purists. For this was on seynt Volantynys day Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his mate. Medieval romance and courtly love. White rose and soft resins. RED LANTERN 2008 A tribute to the opium den cum bawdyhouses of Shanghai in the 1930's. Golden amber, blonde tobacco, Sudanese black coconut, rich caramel, black currant, white opium and delphinium laced with a sensual blend of Asian spice. SMUT 2008 Smut! Smut! Smut! Three swarthy, smutty musks sweetened with sugar and woozy with dark booze notes. VALENTINE OF ROME Many legends surround St. Valentine, and history has yet to show, conclusively, which ones are true and which are fiction. One tale claims that Valentine was a 3rd century Christian priest. When Emperor Claudius II declared that his soldiers were never to marry - the emperor believed that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and children - Valentine continued to perform wedding ceremonies in secret. When the emperor learned of Valentine's disobedience, he imprisoned the priest. The emperor chose to interrogate the priest himself, and despite his fury at his orders being flagrantly disobeyed, he was impressed with the priest's intelligence, wisdom, and passion. He attempted to convert the priest to the Roman faith, and was furious when he failed. While incarcerated, Valentine fell in love with his jailor's blind daughter. Through God's grace and the power of Valentine's pure and true love for this woman, he was able to cure her blindness with a touch. Before he was beaten and beheaded, he sent her a letter expressing his feelings for her, signed 'From Your Valentine'. Ecclesiastical incense, Roman flora, and the fruits of martyrdom: cypress, olive blossom, frankincense, myrrh, and blood accord. ++ LUPERCALIA: LOVE POEMS A FAREWELL TO FALSE LOVE Sir Walter Raleigh Farewell, false love, the oracle of lies, A mortal foe and enemy to rest, An envious boy, from whom all cares arise, A bastard vile, a beast with rage possessed, A way of error, a temple full of treason, In all effects contrary unto reason. A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers, Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose, A sea of sorrows whence are drawn such showers As moisture lend to every grief that grows; A school of guile, a net of deep deceit, A gilded hook that holds a poisoned bait. A fortress foiled, which reason did defend, A siren song, a fever of the mind, A maze wherein affection finds no end, A raging cloud that runs before the wind, A substance like the shadow of the sun, A goal of grief for which the wisest run. A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear, A path that leads to peril and mishap, A true retreat of sorrow and despair, An idle boy that sleeps in pleasure's lap, A deep mistrust of that which certain seems, A hope of that which reason doubtful deems. Sith then thy trains my younger years betrayed, And for my faith ingratitude I find; And sith repentance hath my wrongs bewrayed, Whose course was ever contrary to kind: False love, desire, and beauty frail, adieu. Dead is the root whence all these fancies grew. Pale lavender, sweet violet, balsam of Peru, and paperwhite narcissus. THE CLOD AND THE PEBBLE William Blake Love seeketh not Itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care; But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hells despair. So sang a little Clod of Clay, Trodden with the cattle's feet; But a Pebble of the brook, Warbled out these metres meet. Love seeketh only Self to please, To bind another to Its delight: Joys in anothers loss of ease, And builds a Hell in Heavens despite. Rose otto, clove, patchouli, Indian sandalwood, nutmeg, and cedar. THE FLOWER SONG Unknown, Written during Egypt's New Kingdom To hear your voice is pomegranate wine to me: I draw life from hearing it. Could I see you with every glance, It would be better for me Than to eat or to drink. Pomegranate wine, lotus root, river reeds, hyssop, and barley. HER VOICE Oscar Wilde The wild bee reels from bough to bough With his furry coat and his gauzy wing. Now in a lily-cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a-swing, In his wandering; Sit closer love: it was here I trow I made that vow, Swore that two lives should be like one As long as the sea-gull loved the sea, As long as the sunflower sought the sun -- It shall be, I said, for eternity 'Twixt you and me! Dear friend, those times are over and done, Love's web is spun. Look upward where the poplar trees Sway and sway in the summer air, Here in the valley never a breeze Scatters the thistledowns, but there Great winds blow fair From the mighty murmuring mystical seas, And the wave-lashed leas. Look upward where the white gull screams What does it see that we do not see? Is that a star? or the lamp that gleams On some outward voyaging argosy, -- Ah! can it be We have lived our lives in land of dreams! How sad it seems. Sweet, there is nothing left to say But this, that love is never lost. Keen winter stabs the breasts of May Whose crimson roses burst his frost, Ships tempest-tossed Will find a harbour in some bay, And so we may. And there is nothing left to do But to kiss once again, and part, Nay, there is nothing we should rue, I have my beauty, -- you your Art. Nay, do not start, One world was not enough for two Like me and you. Hyacinth, beeswax, wild roses, vanilla amber, lily of the valley, tiger lily, honeysuckle, carnation, and heliotrope. LA VITA NUOVA Dante Alighieri In that book which is My memory... On the first page That is the chapter when I first met you Appear the words... Here begins a new life Apple blossom, white rose, lemon balm, and champagne grape. LONGING Matthew Arnold Come to me in my dreams, and then By day I shall be well again. For then the night will more than pay The hopeless longing of the day. Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times, A messenger from radiant climes, And smile on thy new world, and be As kind to others as to me. Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth, Come now, and let me dream it truth. And part my hair, and kiss my brow, And say My love! why sufferest thou? Come to me in my dreams, and then By day I shall be well again. For then the night will more than pay The hopeless longing of the day. Rose geranium, frankincense, Ceylon cinnamon, golden musk, bay rum, and bois du rose. LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY Percy Bysshe Shelley The fountains mingle with the river, And the rivers with the ocean; The winds of heaven mix forever, With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle; -- Why not I with thine? See! the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; No sister flower would be forgiven, If it disdained it's brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea; -- What are all these kissings worth, If thou kiss not me? Vanilla, saffron, and cream. NIGHT THOUGHTS Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Stars, you are unfortunate, I pity you, Beautiful as you are, shining in your glory, Who guide seafaring men through stress and peril And have no recompense from gods or mortals, Love you do not, nor do you know what love is. Hours that are aeons urgently conducting Your figures in a dance through the vast heaven, What journey have you ended in this moment, Since lingering in the arms of my beloved I lost all memory of you and midnight. Lilac, blue musk, dianthus, cedar, neroli, ozone, and luminous Eastern herbs. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE Christopher Marlowe Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills and fields, Woods or steepy mountains yields. And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle; A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair-lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and ivy buds, With coral clasps and amber studs; And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning; If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love. Heather, clover, Irish moss, English ivy, tea rose, and carnation. THE PRESENCE OF LOVE Samuel Taylor Coleridge And in Life's noisiest hour, There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee, The heart's Self-solace and soliloquy. ______________________ You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within; And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart Thro' all my Being, thro' my pulses beat; You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light, Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake. And looking to the Heaven, that bends above you, How oft ! I bless the Lot, that made me love you. White musk, rose-swirled amber, pink grapefruit, and jasmine. SAPPHICS Algernon Charles Swinburne All the night sleep came not upon my eyelids, Shed not dew, nor shook nor unclosed a feather, Yet with lips shut close and with eyes of iron Stood and beheld me. Then to me so lying awake a vision Came without sleep over the seas and touched me, Softly touched mine eyelids and lips; and I too, Full of the vision, Saw the white implacable Aphrodite, Saw the hair unbound and the feet unsandalled Shine as fire of sunset on western waters; Saw the reluctant Feet, the straining plumes of the doves that drew her, Looking always, looking with necks reverted, Back to Lesbos, back to the hills whereunder Shone Mitylene; Heard the flying feet of the Loves behind her Make a sudden thunder upon the waters, As the thunder flung from the strong unclosing Wings of a great wind. So the goddess fled from her place, with awful Sound of feet and thunder of wings around her; While behind a clamour of singing women Severed the twilight. Ah the singing, ah the delight, the passion! All the Loves wept, listening; sick with anguish, Stood the crowned nine Muses about Apollo; Fear was upon them, While the tenth sang wonderful things they knew not. Ah the tenth, the Lesbian! the nine were silent, None endured the sound of her song for weeping; Laurel by laurel, Faded all their crowns; but about her forehead, Round her woven tresses and ashen temples White as dead snow, paler than grass in summer, Ravaged with kisses, Shone a light of fire as a crown for ever. Yea, almost the implacable Aphrodite Paused, and almost wept; such a song was that song. Yea, by her name too Called her, saying, "Turn to me, O my Sappho;" Yet she turned her face from the Loves, she saw not Tears for laughter darken immortal eyelids, Heard not about her Fearful fitful wings of the doves departing, Saw not how the bosom of Aphrodite Shook with weeping, saw not her shaken raiment, Saw not her hands wrung; Saw the Lesbians kissing across their smitten Lutes with lips more sweet than the sound of lute-strings, Mouth to mouth and hand upon hand, her chosen, Fairer than all men; Only saw the beautiful lips and fingers, Full of songs and kisses and little whispers, Full of music; only beheld among them Soar, as a bird soars Newly fledged, her visible song, a marvel, Made of perfect sound and exceeding passion, Sweetly shapen, terrible, full of thunders, Clothed with the wind's wings. Then rejoiced she, laughing with love, and scattered Roses, awful roses of holy blossom; Then the Loves thronged sadly with hidden faces Round Aphrodite, Then the Muses, stricken at heart, were silent; Yea, the gods waxed pale; such a song was that song. All reluctant, all with a fresh repulsion, Fled from before her. All withdrew long since, and the land was barren, Full of fruitless women and music only. Now perchance, when winds are assuaged at sunset, Lulled at the dewfall, By the grey sea-side, unassuaged, unheard of, Unbeloved, unseen in the ebb of twilight, Ghosts of outcast women return lamenting, Purged not in Lethe, Clothed about with flame and with tears, and singing Songs that move the heart of the shaken heaven, Songs that break the heart of the earth with pity, Hearing, to hear them. Tonka, oakmoss, tolu balsam, grey amber, myrrh, and muguet. THE RAGGED WOOD William Butler Yeats O, hurry, where by water, among the trees, The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh, When they have looked upon their images Would none had ever loved but you and I! Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky, When the sun looked out of his golden hood? O, that none ever loved but you and I! O hurry to the ragged wood, for there I will drive all those lovers out and cry O, my share of the world, O, yellow hair! No one has ever loved but you and I. Lily of the Valley, star jasmine, benzoin, vanilla, plumeria, bergamot, Terebinth pine, juniper berry, and tea rose. TO HELEN Edgar Allan Poe I saw thee once - once only - years ago: I must not say how many - but not many. It was a July midnight; and from out A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven, There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, Upon the upturned faces of a thousand Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That gave out, in return for the love-light, Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence. Clad all in white, upon a violet bank I saw thee half reclining; while the moon Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses, And on thine own, upturn'd - alas, in sorrow! Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,) That bade me pause before that garden-gate, To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses? No footstep stirred: the hated world an slept, Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven! oh, God! How my heart beats in coupling those two words!) Save only thee and me. I paused - I looked And in an instant all things disappeared. (Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!) The pearly lustre of the moon went out: The mossy banks and the meandering paths, The happy flowers and the repining trees, Were seen no more: the very roses' odors Died in the arms of the adoring airs. All - all expired save thee - save less than thou: Save only the divine light in thine eyes Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes. I saw but them - they were the world to me! I saw but them - saw only them for hours, Saw only them until the moon went down. What wild heart-histories seemed to he enwritten Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres! How dark a woe, yet how sublime a hope! How silently serene a sea of pride! How daring an ambition; yet how deep How fathomless a capacity for love! But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight, Into a western couch of thunder-cloud; And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained; They would not go - they never yet have gone; Lighting my lonely pathway home that night, They have not left me (as my hopes have) since; They follow me - they lead me through the years. They are my ministers - yet I their slave. Their office is to illumine and enkindle My duty, to be saved by their bright light, And purified in their electric fire, And sanctified in their elysian fire. They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope), And are far up in Heaven - the stars I kneel to In the sad, silent watches of my night; While even in the meridian glare of day I see them still - two sweetly scintillant Venuses, unextinguished by the sun! Electric ozone, opaline notes, moonflower, white amber, beeswax, and three roses. And last, but not least, a temporary wing has been added to the Salon. Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements is a Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Salon Limited Edition series celebrating the joy, humor, playfulness, and thrill of sexual intercourse through scent interpretations of Edo era Japanese erotic art. This exhibit contains explicit depictions of sexual acts and nudity, and viewer discretion is advised. Earth Rat, Parentalia, and all of our Lupercalia blends are $17.50, with the exception of the Salon Limited Edition series, Novel Ideas For Secret Amusements, which are $27.50 each. The Yule, Anniversary, and Resurrected blends will be available until January 15, 2008. The Lupercalia blends, Earth Rat, and Parentalia, will be available until March 23, 2008. The Black Phoenix Trading Post update will be live soon, and we'll be back for Lunacy! From the Midwinter 2007 update: Happy Yuletide, boys and girls! We have two offerings for this month's Lunacy: OLD MOON The cold earth slept below; Above the cold sky shone; And all around, With a chilling sound, From caves of ice and fields of snow The breath of night like death did flow Beneath the sinking moon. The wintry hedge was black; The green grass was not seen; The birds did rest On the bare thorn's breast, Whose roots, beside the pathway track, Had bound their folds o'er many a crack Which the frost had made between. Thine eyes glow'd in the glare Of the moon's dying light; As a fen-fire's beam On a sluggish stream Gleams dimly-so the moon shone there, And it yellow'd the strings of thy tangled hair, That shook in the wind of night. The moon made thy lips pale, belov'd; The wind made thy bosom chill; The night did shed On thy dear head Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie Where the bitter breath of the naked sky Might visit thee at will. A dark, still winter's night. The cold, white moon shines on frozen ground dusted with silent snow: evergreen, juniper, winterberry holly, bayberry, Viking black chokeberry, hemlock, and yew, ice-rimed, gilded by traditional lunar herbs and flowers. AQUARIUS 2007 Fixed air: the essence of idealism. Wisteria, myrrh, anise, galbanum, bryony, and pomegranate. The Wheel of the Julian/Gregorian Year is completed, and with 2007's passing went the last of our shapeshifter LE's. And new at Black Phoenix Trading Post:  Both the Lunacy scents and the Lunacy tee will be live until December 26, 2007. In order to make room for several upcoming series and single shot additions to portions of our general catalogue, we are forced to cull the herd. The following blends are being discontinued. They will be offline when the January Lunacy comes down on January 24, 2008. Ahathoor Asphodel Calliope Clio Erato Euterpe Goneril Hamadryad Kostnice Melpomene Penthus Phantom Polyhymnia Rage Shroud Terpsichore Thaleia Urania Vinland Yerevan LVRH: Ahathoor LVRH: Khephra LVRH: Ra LVRH: Tum Have a safe, sane, and sexy winter season, everyone! From the 21 November 2007 update: Blue Moon threw us for a loop this year, so this month we are doing something a little different for Lunacy. Old skool Lunacies will resume, as scheduled, next month. SEA OF TRANQUILITY Look how the pale Queen of the silent night doth cause the ocean to attend upon her, and he, as long as she is in sight, with his full tide is ready here to honor; But when the silver waggon of the Moon is mounted up so high he cannot follow, the sea calls home his crystal waves to morn, and with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow. Silver-dusted lotus, white amber, rose otto, passion flower, white sandalwood, buttonweed, and white poppy. TANUKI Tan Tan Tanuki no kintama wa, Kaze mo nai no ni, Bura bura! The mischievous sake-swigging, debt-riddled shapeshifting raccoon dog. These creatures carry a fistfuls of counterfeit cash and wear leaves from Buddha's sacred lotus atop their heads. Their kin-tama -- golden balls -- are so large that they can swing them over their shoulders like backpacks, and are so taut that they can play them like drums. They are masters at the art of transformation, and live to overindulge in wine and women. A scent of hedonistic, uninhibited joy: bamboo reed, plum blossom, persimmon, magnolia, black pine, sweet osmanthus, flowering cherry, mandarin orange, wisteria, and yuzu. CAPRICORN 2007 Cardinal earth: the essence of control. Solomon's Seal, pine, amaranth, ambrette, cypress, wild tobacco, and hemp. Sea of Tranquility and Tanuki are $17.50 each, and Capricorn 2007 is $20.00. The Lunacy (both BPAL and BPTP) will be live until approximately 9pm PST on Monday, November 26, 2007. Tonight, there's a gigantic BPTP update. Check out the Trading Post New Schtuff Page! Happy holidays, everyone! From the 18 November 2007 update: As of November 25, 2007, the Poe Collection will be available at Dark Delicacies in Burbank, CA. We will be kick-starting it with them at the Dark Delicacies shop from 2-5pm on that day. Dark Delicacies 4213 W. Burbank Blvd Burbank, CA 91505 818-556-6660 888-DARKDEL This month marks DD's 13th Anniversary, and to commemorate it, we have created Black Lace: the embodiment of Victorian funereal elegance. A delicate sugar-spun vanilla cream cotton, stained by tobacco and incense smoke, Indian musk, and drops of cognac. Black Lace will be available through Dark Delicacies as of November 25th, and will be on sale during our trunk show that day. The Salon: Traveling Exhibition is |