Sandalwood - White

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    A Glimpse Perfume Oil

    A glimpse through an interstice caught,
    Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner,
    Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,
    A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,
    There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.

    – Walt Whitman

    A quiet scent, gentle: soft brown leather, a rustle of leaves, warm skin, white sandalwood.

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    Anathema Device Perfume Oil

    She was a bright child, with a pale face, and black eyes and hair. As a rule she tended to make people feel uncomfortable, a family trait she had inherited, along with being more psychic than was good for her, from her great-great-great-great-great grandmother.

    She was precocious, and self-possessed. The only thing about Anathema her teachers ever had the nerve to upbraid her for was her spelling, which was not so much appalling as 300 years too late.

    White sandalwood, blackcurrant, bourbon vanilla, and warm amber.

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    Annales Veteris et Novi Testamenti Perfume Oil

    Archbishop James Usher (1580–1656) published Annales Veteris et Novi Testamenti in 1654, which suggested that the Heaven and the Earth were created in 4004 B.C. One of his aides took the calculation further, and was able to announce triumphantly that the Earth was created on Sunday the 21st of October, 4004 B.C., at exactly 9:00 A.M., because God liked to get work done early in the morning while he was feeling fresh.

    This too was incorrect. By almost a quarter of an hour.

    The whole business with the fossilized dinosaur skeletons was a joke the paleontologists haven’t seen yet.

    Fossilized amber, dusty white sandalwood, galbanum, balsam of Peru, and brown oakmoss.

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    Beauty, The Aggrieved Perfume Oil

    A white rose draped by a delicate, pale, sheer veil of vanilla, the depth and darkness of her black lace embodied by tobacco absolute, Indonesian patchouli, Bulgarian oakmoss, frankincense, white sandalwood, and myrrh.

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    Bone Orchard Home & Linen Spray

    Back in prison, Low Key Lyesmith had once referred to the little prison cemetery out behind the infirmary as the Bone Orchard, and the image had taken root in Shadow’s mind. That night he had dreamed of an orchard under the moonlight, of skeletal white trees, their branches ending in bony hands, their roots going deep down into the graves. There was fruit that grew upon the trees in the bone orchard, in his dream, and there was something very disturbing about the fruit in the dream, but on waking he could no longer remember what strange fruit grew on the trees, nor why he found it so repellent.

    Clacking white sandalwood bones, grave soil, and the bruise-purple fruits of death and decay.

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  • Boney Moon 2022 Perfume Oil

    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, white musk, ambergris accord, and radiant, crisp lunar herbs.

    Art by Drew Rausch!

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    Bourbon & Bone Hair Gloss

    Clacking white sandalwood drenched in whiskey and a puff of cigar smoke.

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  • Brown Jenkin Perfume Oil

    The yellowed country records containing her testimony and that of her accusers were so damnably suggestive of things beyond human experience – and the descriptions of the darting little furry object which served as her familiar were so painfully realistic despite their incredible details.

    That object – no larger than a good-sized rat and quaintly called by the townspeople “Brown Jenkin – seemed to have been the fruit of a remarkable case of sympathetic herd-delusion, for in 1692 no less than eleven persons had testified to glimpsing it. There were recent rumours, too, with a baffling and disconcerting amount of agreement. Witnesses said it had long hair and the shape of a rat, but that its sharp-toothed, bearded face was evilly human while its paws were like tiny human hands. It took messages betwixt old Keziah and the devil, and was nursed on the witch’s blood, which it sucked like a vampire. Its voice was a kind of loathsome titter, and it could speak all languages. Of all the bizarre monstrosities in Gilman’s dreams, nothing filled him with greater panic and nausea than this blasphemous and diminutive hybrid, whose image flitted across his vision in a form a thousandfold more hateful than anything his waking mind had deduced from the ancient records and the modern whispers.

    A small, furry, sharp-toothed scent that will nuzzle you curiously in the black hours before dawn: dusty white sandalwood and orris root, dry coconut husk, creeping musk, and the residue of ceremonial incense.

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    Channel Snow Perfume Oil

    Television static made manifest, with a glimpse of perversions hidden beneath: benzoin, black pepper, white sandalwood, olibanum, ambergris accord, galbanum, and O3.

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  • Con El Dolor de la Mortal Herida Perfume Oil

    Con el dolor de la mortal herida,
    de un agravio de amor me lamentaba;
    y por ver si la muerte se llegaba,
    procuraba que fuese más crecida.

    Toda en el mal el alma divertida,
    pena por pena su dolor sumaba,
    y en cada circunstancia ponderaba
    quesobrabanmil muertes a una vida.

    Y cuando, al golpe de uno y otro tiro,
    rendido el corazón daba penoso
    señas de dar el último suspiro,

    no sé con qué destino prodigioso
    volví en mi acuerdo y dije:—¿Qué me admiro?
    ¿Quién en amor ha sido más dichoso?

    – – –

    Love opened a mortal wound.
    In agony, I worked the blade
    to make it deeper. Please,
    I begged, let death come quick.

    Wild, distracted, sick,
    I counted, counted
    all the ways love hurt me.
    One life, I thought ― a thousand deaths.

    Blow after blow, my heart
    couldn’t survive this beating.
    Then ― how can I explain it?

    I came to my senses. I said,
    Why do I suffer? What lover
    ever had so much pleasure?
    – Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, translation by Joan Larkin and Jaime Manrique

    Heady red roses and white sandalwood pierced by Oman frankincense.

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    Cooling Breeze Perfume Oil

    Juniper berries, green tea, white sandalwood, and bamboo shoots.

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    Cytherea Perfume Oil

    White sandalwood, patchouli, white amber, orris, bourbon vanilla, champaca flower, and kush.

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    Dalliance With an Amorous Bat Demon Perfume Oil

    Honeyed patchouli, sweet benzoin, smoky labdanum, and white sandalwood.

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    Death on a Pale Horse Perfume Oil

    And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.

    The End of All Things: empty white musk and mint seeped with solemn lavender, doleful patchouli and vetiver, scythe-sharp yuzu and lime, with geranium bourbon, white sandalwood and calla lily.

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    Dodo Perfume Oil

    ‘In that case,’ said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, ‘I move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more energetic remedies –’

    ‘Speak English!’ said the Eaglet. ‘I don’t know the meaning of half those long words, and, what’s more, I don’t believe you do either!’ And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds tittered audibly.

    ‘What I was going to say,’ said the Dodo in an offended tone, ‘was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.’

    ‘What is a Caucus-race?’ said Alice; not that she wanted much to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that somebody ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.

    ‘Why,’ said the Dodo, ‘the best way to explain it is to do it.’ (And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)

    First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (‘the exact shape doesn’t matter,’ it said,) and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there. There was no ‘One, two, three, and away,’ but they began running when they liked, and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out ‘The race is over!’ and they all crowded round it, panting, and asking, ‘But who has won?’

    This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo said, ‘everybody has won, and all must have prizes.’

    Red musk, lemon peel, sugar cane, cassia, white sandalwood, mango, and agarwood.

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    Dragon’s Bone Perfume Oil

    The dry, thin scent of a draconic ossuary. Dragon’s blood resin with white sandalwood, dusty orris and crisp blondewood.

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    Egoyomi Perfume Oil

    Peach cream, white sandalwood, and honey.

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    Eve Perfume Oil

    Eve is eternal: in three-thousand years, she has likely traveled the length and breadth of the world, immersed in innumerable cultures throughout the ages, observing the ebb and flow of humanity and the imperishability of nature itself. Despite her age, she is the character that seems most rooted, always experiencing each moment with open eyes, always fully present.

    Her scent is one that travels through the eons: the Irish moss, yarrow, and hawthorn of the Iron Age Britons, ancient Rome’s omphacium and honey, myrrh and calamus from Egypt, the frankincense and damask roses of the Florentine Renaissance, white sandalwood from the Far East, Moroccan saffron and rose water, and a swirl of incense from the souks.

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    Exotic Bazaar Home & Linen Spray

    Nepalese amber, white sandalwood, black peppercorn, ambrette seed, neroli, coconut sugar, cardamom pods, ginger, fennel, bitter almond, liquorice root, henna, copaiba balsam, and spikenard.

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    Eyeball Seaboar Alchemy Lab Perfume Oil

    Scratched at the last minute on the advice of our legal counsel, who was afraid people might misunderstand and pour the perfume directly into their eyes. “For External Purposes Only Seaboar” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

    White sandalwood, sweet patchouli, sea salt, Italian bergamot, and honey.

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  • GHOST LILY, WHITE SANDALWOOD, AND AMBERGRIS ACCORD
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    Hagoromo-No-Taki Hair Gloss

    Tahitian vanilla, coconut cream, orris root, sugar cane, and white sandalwood.

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    Hammy Northern Mockingbird Perfume Oil

    A dusty, dry woody scent that manages to be surprisingly flamboyant: white sandalwood, violet leaf, orris root, cardamom pod, and Texas cedar.

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  • Hunger Moon 2021 Perfume Oil

    When Hunger Moon hangs high in the sky, the fields are frozen, and game is piteously scarce. Sleet covers the ground, and biting winds chill to the bone. This is a quiet, cold perfume: desolate and despairing. It is a clear night sky that and bracing chill wind that bears the promise of snow, sharpened by the pain of hunger, and the sharp, rasping stab of thirst. Ozone, white sandalwood, eucalyptus, camphor, crystallized white amber, verbena, oakmoss, clary sage, and a hint of white citrus rind.

    The accompanying Lunacy Tee can be found here!

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    II. The Priestess Perfume Oil

    Her skin was pale, and her eyes were dark, and her hair was dyed black. She went on a daytime talk show and proclaimed herself a vampire queen. She showed the cameras her dentally crafted fangs, and brought on ex-lovers who, in various stages of embarrassment, admitted that she had drawn their blood, and that she drank it.

    “You can be seen in a mirror, though?” asked the talk show hostess.

    She was the richest woman in America, and had got that way by bringing the freaks and the hurt and the lost out in front of her cameras and showing their pain to the world.

    The studio audience laughed.

    The woman seemed slightly affronted. “Yes. Contrary to what people may think, vampires can be seen in mirrors and on television cameras.”

    “Well, that’s one thing you finally got right, honey,” said the hostess of the daytime talk show. But she put her hand over her microphone as she said it, and it was never broadcast.

    White sandalwood, life everlasting, nicotiana, iris pallida, and juniper berry.

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    In Templum Dei Perfume Oil

    Oman frankincense, cistus labdanum, white sandalwood, and liquidambar.

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    Inesite Phoenix Perfume Oil

    A spray of rose-tinted blades: rose otto, razor-sharp white musk, white sandalwood, sugar musk, red currant, vanilla, green cognac, and guava.

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    Informal Tea Hair Gloss

    Green tea, white sandalwood, and white amber.

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    Kaidan Perfume Oil

    Youngest of The Paradigm, when Kaidan recites the ghost stories of Japanese legend, she brings their spectral warriors to life.

    Rosehip, plum blossom, white sandalwood, jonquil, and amber-laden incense.

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  • Kyoto Perfume Oil

    A gentle, soothing blend of cherry blossom, white sandalwood and star anise.

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  • Le Bois Sacré Cher Aux Arts et Aux Muses Perfume Oil

    Pierre Puvis de Chavannes

    A serene, inspiring, contemplative blend of osmanthus, water lilies, white sandalwood, cypress, and pale incense.

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    Luke 10:25-37 Perfume Oil

    On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

    “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”

    He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'[c]; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.'”

    “You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

    But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

    In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii[e] and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

    “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

    The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

    Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

    Go and do likewise: golden amber and saffron, white sandalwood, and clove.

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    Lyonesse Perfume Oil

    Then rose the King and moved his host by night
    And ever pushed Sir Mordred, league by league,
    Back to the sunset bound of Lyonesse —
    A land of old upheaven from the abyss
    By fire, to sink into the abyss again;
    Where fragments of forgotten peoples dwelt,
    And the long mountains ended in a coast
    Of ever-shifting sand, and far away
    The phantom circle of a moaning sea.

    Golden vanilla and gilded musk, stargazer lily, white sandalwood, grey amber, elemi, orris root, ambergris and sea moss.

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    Matthew 18:6 Perfume Oil

    But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.

    White sandalwood, honey, and champaca.

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    Moons of Saturn: Hati Perfume Oil

    East sat the crone,

    in Iárnvidir,

    Fenrir’s progeny:

    of all shall be

    one especially

    the moon’s devourer,

    in a troll’s semblance.

    Hati Hróðvitnisson, He Who Hates, the Enemy, He Who Swallows the Moon. The son of Fenris, he feasts on the flesh of the dead and on the final day, he will devour the moon and spatter the skies with blood.

    He is sated with the last breath

    of dying men;

    the gods’ seat he

    with red gore defiles:

    swart is the sunshine

    then for summers after;

    all weather turns to storm.

    Frost-limned fur, hackles hunched with insatiable, implacable rage, and death-white fangs crusted with clove-tinted blood.

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    Mouse’s Long and Sad Tale Perfume Oil

    ‘Fury said to a
    mouse, That he
    met in the
    house,
    “Let us
    both go to
    law: I will
    prosecute
    YOU. –Come,
    I’ll take no
    denial; We
    must have a
    trial: For
    really this
    morning I’ve
    nothing
    to do.”
    Said the
    mouse to the
    cur, “Such
    a trial,
    dear Sir,
    With
    no jury
    or judge,
    would be
    wasting
    our
    breath.”
    “I’ll be
    judge, I’ll
    be jury,”
    Said
    cunning
    old Fury:
    “I’ll
    try the
    whole
    cause,
    and
    condemn
    you
    to
    d
    e
    a
    t
    h
    .”

    Vanilla, two ambers, sweet pea and white sandalwood.

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    Mouse’s Long and Sad Tale Silk Soap

    Vanilla, two ambers, sweet pea and white sandalwood.

    Olive Oil, Organic Unrefined Shea Butter, Virgin Organic Coconut Oil, Castor Oil, Distilled Water, Sodium Hydroxide, Silk Peptide, Purple Brazilian Clay, Titanium Dioxide, Pink Brazilian Clay

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    Mr. Ibis Perfume Oil

    The smoke stung Shadow’s eyes. He wiped the tears away with his hand, and, through the smoke, he thought he saw a tall man in a suit, with gold-rimmed spectacles. The smoke cleared and the boatman was once more a half-human creature with the head of a river bird.

    Papyrus, vanilla flower, Egyptian musk, African musk, aloe ferox, white sandalwood.

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  • Ode on Melancholy Perfume Oil

    No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
    Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
    Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d
    By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
    Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
    Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
    Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
    A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries;
    For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
    And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.

    But when the melancholy fit shall fall
    Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
    That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
    And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
    Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
    Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
    Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
    Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
    Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
    And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

    She dwells with Beauty — Beauty that must die;
    And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
    Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
    Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
    Ay, in the very temple of Delight
    Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
    Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
    Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine;
    His soul shalt taste the sadness of her might,
    And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

    Beauty, joy, pleasure and delight: devastated. This is the scent of the hopelessness, torment and despair of love. Lavender and wisteria, heart-wrenching pale rose, desolate white sandalwood and thin, tear-streaked white musk.

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  • Portrait of Magdaleine Pinceloup de la Grange née de Parseval Perfume Oil

    Jean-Baptiste Perronneau

    An aristocratic 18th century French perfume dabbed on lilac velvet, gently purring with soft grey amber and feline musk, and tinkling with tiny golden bells. Grasse jasmine and rose otto nestled in ambergris accord, frankincense, white sandalwood, bourbon vanilla, cardamom, amber, coriander, and galbanum.

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  • Rabbit Moon 2021 Perfume Oil

    “Hallo, Rabbit,” he said, “is that you?”
    “Let’s pretend it isn’t,” said Rabbit, “and see what happens.”

    – AA Milne

    Rabbit Moon is an oil of fecundity, shrewdness, swiftness, and cunning. It embodies liminality, rebirth, regeneration, immortality, endurance, cunning, and getting the last laugh.

    Long green grasses, warm speckled fur, cardamom pod, sweet ambrette seed, caramelized bourbon vanilla, toasted clove, sweetened 3-year aged patchouli, gardenia petals, white sandalwood, nutmeg, and Cambodian oud.

    The accompanying Lunacy Tee can be found here!

    Out of Stock
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    Seraphim Perfume Oil

    A perfume sacred to the highest of the angelic hosts: calla lily, wisteria, white sandalwood, Damascus rose and frankincense.

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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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  • Soft Reboot Perfume Oil

    A purifying blend crafted to help you release old patterns, sever problematic connections, and clear your cache of unwanted and corrupted data. Delete all the apps that no longer serve you: copal, white sandalwood, sage, frankincense, elemi, lavender, palo santo, salt, and nutmeg.

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  • The Black Tower Perfume Oil

    Say that the men of the old black tower,
    Though they but feed as the goatherd feeds,
    Their money spent, their wine gone sour,
    Lack nothing that a soldier needs,
    That all are oath-bound men:
    Those banners come not in.

    There in the tomb stand the dead upright,
    But winds come up from the shore:
    They shake when the winds roar,
    Old bones upon the mountain shake.

    Those banners come to bribe or threaten,
    Or whisper that a man’s a fool
    Who, when his own right king’s forgotten,
    Cares what king sets up his rule.
    If he died long ago
    Why do you dread us so?

    There in the tomb drops the faint moonlight,
    But wind comes up from the shore:
    They shake when the winds roar,
    Old bones upon the mountain shake.

    The tower’s old cook that must climb and clamber
    Catching small birds in the dew of the morn
    When we hale men lie stretched in slumber
    Swears that he hears the king’s great horn.
    But he’s a lying hound:
    Stand we on guard oath-bound!

    There in the tomb the dark grows blacker,
    But wind comes up from the shore:
    They shake when the winds roar,
    Old bones upon the mountain shake.

    A sepulchral, desolate scent. Long-dead soldiers, oath-bound; the perfume of their armor, the chill wind that surges through their tower, white bone and blackened steel: white sandalwood, ambergris, wet ozone, galbanum and leather with ebony, teak, burnt grasses, English ivy and a hint of red wine.

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    The Drunkard’s Dream Perfume Oil

    The drunk in the graveyard raised his bottle to his lips. One of the gravestones flipped over, revealing a grasping corpse; a headstone turned around, flowers replaced by a grinning skull. A wraith appeared on the right of the church, while on the left of the church something with a half-glimpsed, pointed, unsettlingly birdlike face, a pale, Boschian nightmare, glided smoothly from a headstone into the shadows and was gone. Then the church door opened, a priest came out, and the ghosts, haunts, and corpses vanished, and only the priest and the drunk were left alone in the graveyard. The priest looked down at the drunk disdainfully, and backed through the open door, which closed behind him, leaving the drunk on his own.

    The clockwork story was deeply unsettling. Much more unsettling, thought Shadow, than clockwork has any right to be.

    “You know why I show that to you?” asked Czernobog.

    “No.”

    “That is the world as it is. That is the real world. It is there, in that box.”

    Red currant and labdanum with opoponax, vetiver, grave moss, white sandalwood, and khus.

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    The Harlot’s House Perfume Oil

    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.

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  • The Last Unicorn Perfume Oil

    The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam, but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea.

    Frosty lilac petals, iris pallida root, orris, violet leaf, white chocolate, coconut, wild lettuce, white sandalwood, white gardenia and oakmoss.

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    The Mountebank Perfume Oil

    The Hustler, the Scoundrel, the Grifter, using the magic of misdirection, charm, and subtlety to swindle his way through this world, and through all worlds, seen and unseen. Eloquent and glib, he is the quintessential knave. He is the Guardian of Gamblers and the Protector of Con-Men.

    A confidence trick: leather, sweet balsam, white sandalwood, thieves’ rosin, and dusty lavender.

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  • The Queen and the Page Perfume Oil

    Marianne Stokes

    Orris root and white sandalwood, amber silk, Oman frankincense, pine needles, and velvet mosses.

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  • The Raven Perfume Oil

    Sleek, dark, and ominous. Violet and neroli mingled with iris, white sandalwood and dark musk.

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  • The Return of Persephone

    Frederic Leighton
    White sandalwood and pomegranate.

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  • The Robeky Venus Perfume Oil

    Diego Velázquez
    Ambergris, tea roses, vanilla silk, white sandalwood, labdanum, and red currant.

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    Tristran Perfume Oil

    Tristran put down his wooden cup of tea, and stood up, offended.

    “What,” he asked, in what he was certain were lofty and scornful tones, “would possibly make you imagine that my lady-love would have sent me on some foolish errand?”

    The little man stared up at him with eyes like beads of jet. “Because that’s the only reason a lad like you would be stupid enough to cross the border into Faerie. The only ones who ever come here from your lands are the minstrels, and the lovers, and the mad. And you don’t look like much of a minstrel, and you’re – pardon me saying so, lad, but it’s true – ordinary as cheese-crumbs. So it’s love, if you ask me.”

    “Because,” announces Tristran, “every lover is in his heart a madman, and in his head a minstrel.”

    Dust on your trousers, mud on your boots, and stars in your eyes: redwood, tonka bean, white sandalwood, lemon peel, patchouli, rosewood, coriander, and crushed mint.

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    Veil Perfume Oil

    A quiet scent, soft, calm and enigmatic. A perfume of mystery, of whispers, and of secrets behind secrets. White sandalwood, lilac, gardenia, violet, orris, lavender and ylang ylang.

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    Vicomte de Valmont Perfume Oil

     I promised her my eternal love, and I actually thought that for a couple of hours. 

    Rake, scoundrel, demon in a frock coat. Devilishly seductive, ultimately tragic; a villain undone and redeemed by love. Based on an 18th century gentlemen’s cologne: ambergris, white musk, white sandalwood, Spanish Moss, orange blossom, three mints, jasmine, rose geranium and a spike of rosemary.

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    We Must Love One Another or Die Perfume Oil

    For the past several years, it has been increasingly challenging crafting Lupercalia. How difficult it is to think of love or lust or beauty when we are slowly suffocating in the grip of an increasingly authoritarian regime! Objectively and intellectually, I know that we all need joyful release and rest from care, and that a series like Lupercalia is traditionally a balm for grief and sorrow, but emotionally… it’s sometimes hard to shift gears towards romance and passion when you’re being confronted daily with so much grief and suffering. I want to craft a series filled with laughter, silliness, and joy, but sometimes it’s so hard.

    I’m reminded of a snippet of a poem of WH Auden’s: September 1, 1939 –

    All I have is a voice
    To undo the folded lie,
    The romantic lie in the brain
    Of the sensual man-in-the-street
    And the lie of Authority
    Whose buildings grope the sky:
    There is no such thing as the State
    And no one exists alone;
    Hunger allows no choice
    To the citizen or the police;
    We must love one another or die.

    Defenceless under the night
    Our world in stupor lies;
    Yet, dotted everywhere,
    Ironic points of light
    Flash out wherever the Just
    Exchange their messages;
    May I, composed like them
    Of Eros and of dust,
    Belaguered by the same
    Negation and despair,
    Show an affirming flame.

    I offer you some smut and a few lines of love and longing in the hopes that we can keep our affirming flames burning during these dark and tumultuous times: white rose, muguet, white sandalwood, ambrette seed, vetiver, and smoke.

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  • Zephyr Perfume Oil

    A gentle white scent, breezes laced with the scent of springtime blooms and citrus. Lemon, lemon verbena, neroli, white musk, white florals, white sandalwood, China musk, bergamot and a drop of vanilla.

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