Patchouli - Black

  • All Hallows Chaos: Samhain

    “Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist in creating out of void, but out of chaos.”
    ― Mary Shelley, 1831

    This Samhain, we’re reveling in the desecration of a classic blend: “Damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.”

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  • Black and Red Candy Canes

    Every year at BPAL, we put up our tiny black Yule tree in the front parlor. It has red lights, and it’s decorated with whatever we have handy. I don’t remember when we got this little tree, but it’s been a Yule staple here as long as I can remember. There are always black and red candy canes on the tree; I don’t know what they actually taste like, because these things have been with us forever and are a bajillion years old. They are probably lethal by now.

    Red musk, star anise, clove bud, labdanum, opium pod, and black patchouli.

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  • Fuck You, Said the Raven

    “Hey,” said Shadow. “Huginn or Muninn, or whoever you are.”

    The bird turned, head tipped, suspiciously, on one side, and it stared at him with bright eyes.

    “Say ‘Nevermore,'” said Shadow.

    “Fuck you,” said the raven.”

    Glossy black, rough, and gravelly: violet-gilded opoponax, black patchouli, myrrh, and oak leaf.

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  • Moons of Saturn: Mimas

    Son of Gaia, slain by Hephastus with red-hot iron, incinerated by Zeus’ lightning bolts. Not a lucky fellow at all.

    A thunderclap of ozone and red peppercorn slicing through sweet vetiver, black patchouli, and opoponax.

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  • 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.

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  • Seven Word Story: Wrath

    The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was WRATH. The winning entry was submitted by Miss Paulette:

    The poison worked slowly, to her delight.

    Bitter almond swirled into black patchouli, with red amber, rum absolute, and lemon peel.

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  • Sin

    Thouroughly corrupted: amber, sandalwood, black patchouli and cinnamon.

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  • The Organ Grinder

    A handsome, dark-skinned man weaves and dances his way through the crowd. Veves have been burned into the face of his old acoustic guitar, which he strums casually as he strolls though the crowd. A winged Capuchin monkey is balanced on his shoulder, holding out a rusty metal cup. The guitar player’s melancholy chords begin to mingle strangely with a cacophonous jangling sound. The discordant symphony grows and swells as he moves toward a cloaked and hooded figure; this spectre’s skeletal hands operate a dilapidated barrel organ that stands at a crossroads in the midway. As they come together, the music hits a nightmarish crescendo; your heart heaves with longings unfulfilled, your vision swims, and your head is filled with whispered incantations and gallows secrets. In that instant, you suddenly understand the profundity of deals made in Heaven and Hell, and the price of desire.

    Almond milk, sarsaparilla, tobacco smoke, High John the Conqueror root, coconut hull, black patchouli and white pine bark.

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  • Umbra – Resurrected

    The deepest, darkest point in a shadow; the area contained within the shadow of an eclipse. East African black patchouli, cedarwood, vetiver and a dribble of cinnamon.

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  • Urd

    Fate

    Muscadine, black and red patchouli, cereus and nag champa.

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