Honeysuckle

  • Anathema

    A scent as heavy as thunder from the Vatican, with notes that inspire every sin and excess. Black opium, with vetivert and honeysuckle.

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  • Chimera

    The fiery, volatile scent of cinnamon, thickened by myrrh, honeysuckle, and copal.

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  • Dawn: Maiden

    Tea roses, honeysuckle, heliotrope, olive blossom, milk, and honey.

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  • Eostre of the Dawn

    There was a woman sitting on the grass, under a tree, with a paper tablecloth spread in front of her, and a variety of Tupperware dishes on the cloth.

    She was—not fat, no, far from fat: what she was, a word that Shadow had never had cause to use until now, was curvaceous. Her hair was so fair that it was white, the kind of platinum-blonde tresses that should have belonged to a long-dead movie starlet, her lips were painted crimson, and she looked to be somewhere between twenty-five and fifty.

    As they reached her she was selecting from a plate of deviled eggs. She looked up as Wednesday approached her, put down the egg she had chosen, and wiped her hand. “Hello, you old fraud,” she said, but she smiled as she said it, and Wednesday bowed low, took her hand, and raised it to his lips.

    He said, “You look divine.”

    “How the hell else should I look?” she demanded, sweetly. “Anyway, you’re a liar. New Orleans was such a mistake—I put on, what, thirty pounds there? I swear. I knew I had to leave when I started to waddle. The tops of my thighs rub together when I walk now, can you believe that?” This last was addressed to Shadow. He had no idea what to say in reply, and felt a hot flush suffuse his face. The woman laughed delightedly. “He’s blushing! Wednesday, my sweet, you brought me a blusher. How perfectly wonderful of you. What’s he called?”

    “This is Shadow,” said Wednesday. He seemed to be enjoying Shadow’s discomfort. “Shadow, say hello to Easter.”

     

    Jasmine and honeysuckle, sweet milk and female skin.

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  • Fairy Bites

    “It bit me!”
    “What did you expect fairies to do?”
    “I thought they did nice things.
    Like — like granting wishes.”
    “Shows what you know, don’t it?”

    Osmanthus and raw honey with lavender, chamomile, white peppermint, raspberry, honeysuckle, thyme, bergamot, and Dracula orchid.

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  • Ghost Music

    Gloomy and bare the organ-loft,
    Bent-backed and blind the organist.
    From rafters looming shadowy,
    From the pipes’ tuneful company,
    Drifted together drowsily,
    Innumerable, formless, dim,
    The ghosts of long-dead melodies,
    Of anthems, stately, thunderous,
    Of Kyries shrill and tremulous:
    In melancholy drowsy-sweet
    They huddled there in harmony.
    Like bats at noontide rafter-hung.

    – Robert Graves

    Sheets of white musk and lavender curling around a melancholy song of violet root, iris, neroli, and honeysuckle.

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  • 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.

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  • Juliet

    Sweet pea with stargazer lily, calla lily, heliotrope, honeysuckle, white musk and a touch of fresh pear.

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  • Materialisation

    Undoubtedly the greatest marvel of Spiritualism is the materialisation of the spirit form. It is highly interesting to study the gradual development of this phenomenon. It was not till some years after the advent of modern Spiritualism that materialisation was heard of. At first the spirits had power only to materialise a hand or foot, and that very imperfectly; then they were able to produce faces, several sometimes showing at one séance; but even at that time the spirits prophesied that the time would shortly come when they should be able to materialise a complete human form, and walk about in our midst. That time has now come. On two occasions I have witnessed the phenomenon of a spirit reincarnating itself — putting on a material body and dress — the body to all intents a human body, and the dress fabric of earthly produce. The spirit has not suddenly burst on my view in a perfected form, but slowly evolved out of nothingness before my eyes, and again melted away, repeating the process again and again!
    – Experiences in Spiritualism: A Record of Extraordinary Phenomena Witnessed Through the Most Powerful Mediums, With Some Historical Fragments Relating to Semiramide, Given by the Spirit of and Egyptian Who Lived Contemporary With Her by Catherine Berry

    A quiet perfume that emerges slowly out of nonbeing: white musk, ambergris accord, coconut, almond milk, and honeysuckle.

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  • New Orleans

    Reminiscent of hothouse blooms on a humid night, ripe, but touched with decay. Sweet honeysuckle and jasmine with a hint of lemon and spice.

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  • Parthenope

    Honeysuckle, orris, moss, musk, benzoin, oakmoss, and star jasmine.

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  • Shanghai

    The crisp, clean scent of green tea touched with lemon verbena and honeysuckle.

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  • Swans on the River

    Honeysuckle, white tuberose, gardenia petals, and wet green leaves.

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  • The Hare

    In the black furrow of a field
    I saw an old witch-hare this night;
    And she cocked her lissome ear,
    And she eyed the moon so bright,
    And she nibbled o’ the green;
    And I whispered ‘Whsst! witch-hare,’
    Away like a ghostie o’er the field
    She fled, and left the moonlight there.

    A leaper between worlds, the tiny trickster; she soars through liminal spaces, dancing in the strange shadows of dawn and twilight.

    Warm fur and mandrake root, blue sage and tall grasses, honeysuckle-tinged moonlight, carrot seed, comfrey, and dandelion.

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  • Twilight

    An enigmatic, otherworldly scent, brimming with power and mystery.

    Lavender and jasmine, with a touch of glowing honeysuckle.

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  • War

    She finished the drink, hefted the sword over one shoulder, and looked around at the puzzled factions, who now encircled her completely. ‘Sorry to run out on you, chaps,’ she said. ‘Would love to stay and get to know you better.’

    The men in the room suddenly realized they didn’t want to know her better. She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, but not up close.

    And she held her sword, and she smiled like a knife.

    Red ginger, black spices, patchouli, honeysuckle, and three blood-soaked red musks.

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