Carrot Seed

  • Haunted Housewife Perfume Oil

    “When mothers try to live the way our culture encourages us to, as almost literally selfless vehicles for others’ fulfillment, we become something else, something cold and hungry, something you wouldn’t want to see standing over your bed in the dark.”

    A thin, sorrowful, lonely scent: white musk and dust, elemi and white amber, carrot seed and opium tar accord.

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    Seven Word Story: Envy Perfume Oil

    The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was Envy. The winning entry was submitted by Tyler Butler:

    Galatea wept as Pygmalion carved new statues

    Marble-white sandalwood, vanilla blossom, and orris root veined with whorls of ambergris accord, rose-touched with life, slowly shattering tears of bitter carrot seed and cistus.

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    Seven Word Story: Greed Perfume Oil

    The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was Greed. The winning entry was submitted by Melanie C:

    Killed the last rhino for its horn.

    Ambergris accord, orris root, and carrot seed.

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    The Hourglass Perfume Oil

    “I feel like all the sands are at the bottom of the hourglass.”
    “Turn it over, then.”

    The white roses and orange blossoms of hope penetrating despair’s black fog of opoponax, black myrrh, bruised violet, clove, funereal lily, and grief-struck carrot seed.

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  • We Wear the Mask Perfume Oil

    We wear the mask that grins and lies,
    It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, –
    This debt we pay to human guile;
    With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
    And mouth with myriad subtleties.

    Why should the world be over-wise,
    In counting all our tears and sighs?
    Nay, let them only see us, while
    We wear the mask.

    We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
    To thee from tortured souls arise.
    We sing, but oh the clay is vile
    Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
    But let the world dream otherwise,
    We wear the mask!
    – Paul Laurence Dunbar

    This poem – this song – is one that has moved me since my childhood, and it’s so incredibly difficult to translate it into scent. I don’t know if I am capable of doing honor to Dunbar’s words; all I can do is craft something that is akin to how much this makes my heart clench. The scent I have chosen is a soft lavender with dry woods, carrot seed and iris, sandalwood smoke, and wisteria.

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